Provoked

by Rebecca Zanetti

“Know what?” Kane maneuvered the truck around a downed pine and back onto the main road.

  “That she’s supposed to save the world.” Hopefully he didn’t have some hapless woman imprisoned somewhere. How crazy was Kane?

  “Sure. Janie gets visions.” Kane flipped on the wipers to combat the beginning of another snowstorm. “But we’re trying to make sure she doesn’t end up in danger or with the world hanging on her shoulders—we’re hoping to end the war soon.”

  “War?” Amber eyed the quiet forest outside the truck. If she jumped out, could she outrun him? “What war?”

  Kane sighed. Again. “The war. Vampires, Kurjans, Demons . . . even the shifters. Please don’t pretend you are unaware of the war. Your playing dumb insults us both.”

  Well, shit. She sure didn’t want to insult the crazy bastard. “Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  Sympathy for the poor niece, if she really existed, tightened Amber’s shoulders. “So, this Janie. She’s your real niece?”

  “Sure.” Kane leaned forward to peer into the darkening storm. “She’s been my niece since she was four years old—what an amazing little kid she was. My brother adopted her when he saved his mate from the Kurjans.”

  Okay. Which word to tackle first? The most intriguing one. “Um, mate? Your brother has a mate.”

  “Yes. My brother Talen took Janie’s mother as a mate. He was a bit overbearing at first, but you have to know Talen. His vision of the world is pretty set in stone. Though, to his credit, he found the right mate for him and everything worked out.”

  “Overbearing, huh? Hard to imagine.” Kane spun quite the story—wasn’t most genius close to madness? Poor guy. “Um, at the risk of insulting you again, what’s a Kurjan?” Amber might as well get all the facts she could in order to inform the guys who’d want to put poor Kane in a straitjacket.

  Slowly, deliberately, Kane turned his head to pin her with a hard look. “Stop it.”

  “Okay.” Agreeing seemed wise. A few more minutes and they’d be back in town. She’d run for it the second he stopped. Her gaze caught on a water bottle peeking out from under the seat. “For goodness’ sake. Why in the world would you buy bottled water?”

  “Ah, I was thirsty?”

  She shook her head. “So drink from a fountain. Do you know what that plastic does to the environment? You should care, darn it.”

  “I won’t buy water in a bottle again.”

  “Thank you.” The earth wasn’t going to last if people failed to start taking care of her. A smart man like Kane, regardless of his insanity, should realize that fact.

  He frowned, clearly puzzled.

  “What?”

  “I’m trying to figure out how to handle you,” he said.

  Her eyebrows rose until she could feel wrinkles. “Excuse me?”

  He glanced back at the road. “Three of my brothers have mates, and they all handle their women differently. I was trying to figure out the best way to handle you because I’ve had enough of the games.”

  Fear wandered down her spine on the heels of irritation. “Your brothers hurt their, ah, mates?”

  “No, of course not.” He shrugged. “Though most often, a mate ends up over a shoulder heading elsewhere. I always thought brute strength a silly way to end an argument.” His gaze raked over her. “Now I’m seeing the reasonableness of the act.”

  She cleared her throat. “They don’t harm, their, ah, mates. Right?”

  “Never.” He shook his head. “A vampire would never harm a mate.”

  Oh, Mother Earth. He said vampire.

  CHAPTER 3

  Kane drove the truck through the archway of the small town, his gaze on the snowy road, and his mind on the quiet woman in the passenger seat. She hadn’t used her right hand since getting out of her car. What kind of a weapon did she hold? Probably not a gun, or she would’ve pointed it at the drunks trying to accost her.

  Most likely she held a knife.

  An odd choice, really, considering she must know he was a vampire. She’d have little chance of harming him. While she was a demon destroyer, a powerful mind warrior. . . she was still human. Still so very fragile.

  The vulnerability she’d tried to hide in those stunning black eyes had stopped him cold. He’d even saved the two drunk morons who had planned to hurt her—an unnecessary and truly time-wasting act. But she’d asked, and he’d hurried to do her bidding.

  What in the world was wrong with him?

  He’d told Dage he could handle the mission. Talen would’ve just hog-tied the woman and dragged her home. Same with Conn, their other brother. But Kane had hoped to reason with her.

  Why did she have to be so stunning? Beautiful enhanced women were a distraction. One he couldn’t afford, even if the world hadn’t gone to hell. Two huge goals loomed before him. First and foremost, he needed to save Jase. Then he needed to cure a virus created to take out his loved ones.

  But now, he needed to find patience and some sort of camaraderie with the woman. The sooner she made her move with the weapon, the sooner he could illustrate there was no hope of escaping him. She needed to help, and she would.

  He cleared his throat. “Where should I take the snoring drunks?”

  She jumped, swinging her torso toward him, those pretty eyes wide. “Ah, good question. There’s an all-night restaurant north of the bar—we can drop them off in the parking lot.”

  Her voice trembled and her shoulders stiffened.

  Wonderful. She’d make her move at a public place. He shook his head. “Whatever you’re planning won’t work.” It was only fair to give her warning. Maybe she’d heed the threat.

  “I’m not planning anything.”

  Nope. The woman wasn’t going to heed shit. “Is there a reason you won’t help me?”

  She picked at a loose thread on her jacket. “I don’t believe you about the demons.” Her lips quirked. “I’m sorry.”

  Oh. Well, that was an odd one. “Why not?”

  “Demons don’t exist.” She scrunched up her face. “I mean, probably.”

  “You can trust me.” While he understood the need to hide her gifts, he couldn’t allow the subterfuge to continue. The sooner they got that unpleasant reality out of the way, the sooner she could help him find Jase.

  “Sure. Yeah, you’re totally trustworthy.”

  He turned west along darkened streets toward the bar. “The demons took my youngest brother hostage four years ago—and you of all people know what they’ve done to him.” A rare rage heated in Kane’s gut, and he shoved all emotion down.

  “Me of all people?”

  “Yes. As the only demon destroyer we’ve ever found, you must know what they can do. What they will do.”

  “Demon destroyer, huh?” She shifted in the seat. “You sure you have the right gal?”

  His hands tightened on the wheel. “I’m sure.”

  “You poor, crazy man.” She sighed. “How many brothers do you have?”

  So, she was going to humor him. “I have four brothers—Jase is the youngest.”

  “Where do you fall in the lineup?” Her smile whispered sweetness.

  “Smack-dab in the middle.” He fit the middle child cliché to a T. The peacemaker, the brilliant one, the one in the middle. “When the first war intruded, and my older brother had to step up as king, we all fell into place. I’m his confidant when he needs logic and order. And a plan.”

  “Sounds lonely.”

  How odd. Kane narrowed his eyes, glancing at the woman. “No. We all do our jobs.”

  “What about when you don’t want to be logical? What about when you’re angry and want to hit something?” Streetlights from quiet storefronts glinted off her nearly white hair, turning her into an angel.

  He shrugged. “That’s an indulgence I can’t allow. The king needs me logical, so I am.”

  “Maybe that’s why you went a bit . . . off the track.”

  Good Lord. Was she back to that? “Stop playing
with me, sweetheart. Logic can kick your butt as quickly, if not more efficiently, than a good broadsword.”

  “Was that a threat?” Her posture went ramrod straight.

  “Would a threat work?” he asked, an unwilling smile tingling his lips.

  “No.”

  That’s what he thought. Bright lights spilled from the all-night diner and cut through the softly falling snow like an invitation. He maneuvered the truck into the parking lot. Regret filled him as he grabbed Amber and hauled her across the seat. “We can’t have you jumping out, now, can we?” He turned to shove Chuck in the shoulder. “Wake up.”

  Chuck groaned.

  Good enough. Kane cut the engine. “They’ll awaken soon and head inside. We need to get out of here.” Jumping out, he kept a firm hand on the woman, even while helping her to the ground. What kind of a moron lifted his truck so high a lady needed assistance getting out?

  Her boots scattered snow as she landed and then regained her balance. “Thanks.” She kept her gaze on his chest.

  “Sure.” He shut the door and waited patiently for her to make a move.

  She remained still. Snow billowed softly to coat her lovely hair. A small shiver racked her shoulders.

  He peered down at her. “Amber?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you’re going to attack with whatever’s in your right hand, could you hurry it up? We need to get going.”

  She started, her gaze slashing up to him. “How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “What kind of a knife do you have?”

  Her cheeks pinkened, and she drew her hand forward. “I have a pen.”

  A blue ballpoint pen. He blinked twice, his gaze on the harmless tool.

  Maybe it was the ridiculousness of the pen. Maybe it was the woman’s courage in planning to use it on him. Or maybe it was the sheepish half-smile she gave.

  Either way, his heart rolled over.

  Warmth flushed through him, so hot, so fast, his ears rang. His mind blanked. For the first time in centuries, his brain shut off. The woman was crazy. Stepping in, he grasped her chin and tilted her head back.

  Her eyes widened, and then her gaze lowered to his lips. A soft sound of surprise emerged with her breath.

  He dove in, allowing the animal within to awaken. For the first time in three centuries, there was no thought. All instinct ruled as his mouth took hers . . . no finesse, no calculation, just pure, raw need. He shoved her against the truck, his other hand clutching her hip as he went deeper.

  Honeysuckle exploded along his taste buds as his tongue swept inside her mouth. Not gentle, not persuasive, just taking. Claiming.

  And it wasn’t enough. Not even close to enough.

  Pressing into her, body to body, heat to heat, something clicked. Beyond his brain, beyond his body . . . somewhere deeper.

  Finally, he found home.

  Her nails bit into his skin as she rose to her tiptoes, meeting him more than halfway. A small whimper escaped her as she tightened her hold, her nipples pebbling against him.

  A low growl centered in his chest, and he palmed her butt, yanking her into his erection. At the contact, fire rippled up his spine. He needed to be inside her . . . now.

  Her flesh filled his hand and he squeezed, feeling her moan inside his mouth. The jeans were a hindrance. With a growl of impatience, he slid his palm beneath her waistband and found silky smooth skin. No underwear—or she wore a thong. He slid his finger over. Yep. She was wearing a thong. Jesus, his head might blow off. As he kneaded her butt, awareness pressed in. She was cold. Or rather, her rear was cold.

  He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, his gaze on her upturned face. Snow fell on her lashes as her eyelids fluttered open. Her cheeks were rosy, her mouth bruised. Tempting lips formed a perfect O as awareness filtered into her eyes.

  Flattening her palms against his chest, she tilted her head to the side, a question pursing her lips.

  The restaurant door burst open, and several men wearing faded flannels stomped out. They stopped. The one in the front, bushy beard covering his face, frowned. “Amber? You okay?”

  Thoughts scattered across her face.

  Realization slammed Kane, but before he could react, she shoved him back. Hard.

  “Yes. I need to get inside,” she breathed. Pivoting, she hustled through the snow to the front door. “Have a good night, boys.” She darted inside the restaurant.

  The men glared and then plodded toward their various rigs to take off.

  Kane stood alone in the dark, snow cooling his face, his cock throbbing, his temper spiraling. Wait a minute. He didn’t have a temper. Damn it. Without question, he needed to get himself under control before yanking Amber back outside. His palms itched with the need to finish what they’d just started.

  The phone in his back pocket buzzed. A quick glance confirmed the call came from headquarters. For once in his life, Kane ignored the king’s call. Shoving the phone away, he eyed the restaurant door. The phone buzzed again, somehow more insistently. Jesus. He flipped the lid open. “What?”

  There was a pause before Dage spoke. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” Irritation had Kane’s voice emerging hoarse. “What’s wrong is that I’m on a mission and people keep fucking calling me. That’s what’s wrong.”

  Silence reigned for a minute. “Well, I’m fucking calling you because we intercepted a communication—two demon scouts are heading for you right now. You have about an hour before they arrive.”

  “Now that’s a good reason to call.” Kane rubbed his eyes. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “I’ll send Talen for backup.”

  Kane’s eyes flashed open. Talen had no finesse. “Keep Talen home. I’ve got this.” No way would Kane let one of his brothers manhandle Amber. Even as the thought zinged through his head, he acknowledged the irony. One kiss and he wanted to protect the woman. “I need to get a grip.”

  “What was that?”

  Shit. He’d said that out loud. What the hell was wrong with him? “I said, I have a good grip on her. I’ll be in touch.” He flipped the phone shut.

  The stress of failing time after time to rescue Jase would cause anybody to lose control for a moment. Kane straightened his shirt, taking several deep breaths of the chilly air. Calm settled over him. He hadn’t slept in too long—an easily remedied situation, and one he’d take care of the second he delivered Amber to headquarters.

  Squaring his shoulders, he swiveled around and reached the door in two strides. Tugging the thick oak open, he stepped inside. A cash register sat before him. The main area of the restaurant lay to the right, an alcove to the left. The scents of burnt bacon and scrambled eggs hit him as he viewed the mostly empty booths lining the window. Nobody sat at the stools lining the counter. Small and not even close to quaint, the restaurant didn’t do much business at three in the morning. An inebriated trio of women sat in the farthest booth—the women who’d ridden the saddles earlier. One wore a drink-riddled sash with the words FORTY AND FANTASTIC bedazzled across the middle.

  She caught his eye, smiling widely as she teetered in the booth.

  He gave a short nod and glanced around the room. Amber wasn’t in sight. Lifting his head, he inhaled. The scent of wild heather lingered under the bacon smell. Following the scent into the alcove, he stopped short in front of two restrooms, one labeled with the word HEIFERS, the other BULLS. And people thought he was clueless when it came to women. If someone called one of his sisters-in-law a heifer, they’d die. Painfully.

  He rubbed his chin and frowned at the paneled walls. “Damno is totus ut abyssus.” Shaking his head, he shoved open the door for heifers. Empty. Yet her scent clung strongly to the room. Cursing his stupidity, he strode across damaged tiles to the half-opened window at the end of three stalls. He peered out and glared at her perfect boot-prints in the snow.

  Yanking his overcoat closer, he stuck one leg over the sill, scooted under, and dropped to the ground. If his br
others could see him now, he’d never live it down. He’d lost one tiny human, and he’d just jumped out of a heifer bathroom. “Fuck.” No need to swear in Latin. His desire turned to extreme irritation. When he found Amber, and he would, they were going to get some damn things straight.

  He followed the footsteps back to the bar and an empty parking spot. She’d borrowed the Suburban that had been parked next to the building all night. Snow flew as he stomped his boots clean. “I’m the smartest fucking person on the planet,” he muttered.

  Glancing around the deserted parking lot as snow bombarded his overcoat, a smile rose from deep within him. Then laughter. Throwing back his head, he laughed until his ribs ached. Finally, he sobered and wiped his eyes.

  Now wasn’t the time for laughing.

  She’d impressed the hell out of him. Maybe he’d finally found the one person smarter than him—he’d never been outmaneuvered like this. Another chuckle escaped him as he turned to run after the most exasperating woman he’d ever met.

  But man, could she kiss.

  CHAPTER 4

  Amber tiptoed into the ancient farmhouse and paused as reality set in. Grandma Hilde was in the hospital. No need to be quiet. With a sigh, she stomped her boots free of snow on the threadbare rug and then sat on the polished wooden steps to yank off the boots.

  A low meow echoed before Picard wound around her legs. The gray tomcat had lost an eye and was missing fur down the right side of his body from some tragedy that had occurred before he’d adopted her. She picked him up, rubbing her nose against his good side. “I know I left you enough food, so stop asking for more. You wouldn’t believe the night I had.”

  Her lips still tingled.

  She shook her head. The best kiss of her life had come from a nut job. A crazy, sexy-as-hell lunatic. Life was so not fair.

  Picard purred against her for a moment and then struggled to get down. She released the finicky animal so he could dart into the kitchen.

  A clock ticked in the quiet gathering room, and darkness cascaded from the kitchen. The only two rooms on the first floor were empty without Grandma around. Amber stood, peering out the window at the snow outside. So pure and fluffy—yet so dang cold. The sun would rise in about an hour, and she should try to get some sleep.