As he talked he reached around her waist to the front of her jeans, searching with hard fingers for the fastening.
She didn’t have enough room to leverage out a serious blow. No normal human woman could have broken his hold.
But she wasn’t quite a normal human woman.
Telekinesis can be a finicky Power. Some people could manipulate things from a distance away. Others, usually those with a lesser degree of Power like her, needed to be able to touch what they wanted to shift.
Since Claudia’s aptitude for telekinesis wasn’t much, she’d had to work to figure out what she could and couldn’t do. Someone else might not have bothered, but the army was interested in her talents, and they spent a lot on training her. She was interested too, and she worked hard at every opportunity they gave her. As a result, what she could do was well thought out and well practiced.
She could hit like a motherfucker. Kick like one too. From a standstill, she could throw a roundhouse punch that could bring a two-ton troll to its knees.
She had to be careful when she was fighting those of the Elder Races who were faster than she was, and whose bodies were more durable. She had to think strategically. Turned out, she was good at doing that too. Fighting was a dance like no other, as each one of her opponents became her partner for a deadly brief period of time.
She had maybe eight inches of space to work with. That was more than enough. She struck back with her elbow and hit Junior’s midsection.
Junior coughed out all his breath and crumpled to the ground. She twisted around.
He had no air in his lungs with which to speak. His bulging gaze was astonished. It asked her, What the fuck?
So she answered his question. She showed him what the fuck. She kicked him in the chest, using her foot to leverage his body weight. The blow lifted him off the ground and slammed him into the back of the building several yards away. When his three friends rushed her, she showed them what the fuck too.
When she finished with the would-be rapists and walked away, all four of them were on the ground. Two of them were unconscious, and one of them was crying.
Because Junior wasn’t the only one who had a hellish temper.
Claudia had a hellish temper too.
Chapter Five
Sacrifice
“Wake up, Precious,” a male said.
Luis came awake instantly. Once again, he almost lunged to attack but he managed to check himself before he tore off the other male’s face. It was the older man, the veterinarian. Jackson. She wouldn’t like it if Luis hurt him.
Jackson was a smart man. He had jerked back as Luis came awake. “Here now, none of that,” he said gruffly. Despite his obvious age and experience, the human didn’t sound nearly as confident as Claudia had when she’d shushed Luis. “I’ve got something for you.”
Luis was in the trailer, but Claudia wasn’t. A strange male, also human but much younger than Jackson, stood well away from them both, his nervous scent spiking the air.
Luis bared his teeth. He was groggy, confused and angry that the men had gotten into the trailer and Claudia had slipped away without waking him up. That would never have happened if he hadn’t been injured and heavily medicated. She had promised to protect him. Where had she gone?
Then Jackson showed him three liquid-filled vials. He stared. Jackson offered him the chance to sniff them but he didn’t bother. In his mind’s eye, the vials shone with Power.
“Don’t worry, son,” Jackson said. “I’m not gonna talk baby talk at you and ask if you’ll take the num-nums. I have a feeling you’d bite me a whole lot sooner’n you’d bite her. Feel like having a drink?”
“That’s all we had at the Urgent Care Clinic, Dan,” said the strange man. “You didn’t tell me why you needed it. You’re not really going to give thousands of dollars worth of healing potion to a dog, are you?”
“Yeah, Stewart, I think I am,” said Jackson. With a near-silent grunt, he levered himself down on one knee in front of Luis. “At least I’m gonna give him one to start with. We’ll see how that goes.”
“It’s going to take at least twenty-four hours for the clinic to replace those,” said Stewart. “Who’s gonna pay for them?”
“Not real sure about that part,” Jackson said. “I feel certain the money will come from somewhere. If nothing else, I’m betting his new owner will chip in. Worse comes to worse, I’ll pay for them myself. But I don’t think I’ll have to.”
“He’s a dog.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t think he’s just any dog, Stew.”
Luis watched intently as Jackson uncapped a potion and poured it into a shallow dish. He pushed upright enough so that he could drink, ignoring the harsh explosion of pain that his movement caused. He had his nose in the dish almost before Jackson could set it on the floor. Breathing shallowly, he lapped at the small, valuable amount of liquid and forced his swollen throat muscles to work. Power exploded like a sunburst inside him, flaring outward until his raw, abraded skin felt like it was on fire.
“Want another one?” Jackson asked.
Luis nodded.
“Well, fuck me dead and gone,” Stewart said. The other human sounded shaken.
“A heartfelt, if unsavory, sentiment,” Jackson said. He blew out a breath and poured a second one in the dish, and then the third.
Luis gulped them down.
“Mind if I take some of these bandages off?”
Luis growled, still drinking.
“Oh-kay,” Jackson said, drawing back. “Guess you’ll handle taking the bandages off yourself.”
Luis finished the last of the potion and lay back down, panting as the healing spell spread through his abused body. Broken ribs knitted, and torn muscle and skin mended. Healing potions did an amazing amount of good, but they weren’t pain-free. He felt like his whole body was immersed in flames.
Luckily the humans knew enough to stand well back and let the process occur, because for a short time he felt blinded, out of control. If either had been foolish enough to touch him, he really might have savaged them.
A formless amount of time later, the flames in his body eased. He stretched carefully, taking note of the changes. The pain in his rib cage and throughout his body was now a dull ache. He wasn’t completely healed. His injuries had been too severe, and the Power in stored healing potions was not as potent as fresh spells thrown by a healer.
But the disorientation from his injuries and the medication had burned away, and his mind could finally function again. He could take a deep breath without a stabbing pain in his chest, his raw abrasions had closed over, and the bullet wounds had closed enough so that they were no longer bleeding.
All of that might mean the difference between life and death, because now he was no longer helpless.
He nosed under the blanket to tear at the bandages with his teeth. Then he rolled over, onto all four paws, and shape-shifted. He stood as he changed, instinctively ducking his head in case the ceiling of the trailer was too low for his height.
Both Jackson and Stewart took a couple steps back, staring. Yeah, he got that kind of reaction from some people, more often from other males. He stood at six and a half feet tall when he wasn’t slouching, and his body was all muscle.
Usually females took a few steps closer.
Stewart whispered, “Holy snot.”
“Where did she go?” Luis asked Jackson. He rotated his shoulders carefully and stretched stiff neck muscles.
“She went to the bars,” Jackson said. “Been gone about an hour now.”
Luis snapped out a curse while he ran another mental check on his condition. He needed to get to his supplies, but first he needed to get to Claudia to make sure she was all right.
What the hell was she thinking, going out? She had seen up close and personal what Scott Bradshaw and his friends were capable of doing, and thanks to Rodriguez, her role in today’s events would be well-known by now.
The nearest bar was almost a m
ile away. Could he run it? Yeah, he could, but it would be uncomfortable, since his ribs were still healing. In another day, maybe two, that wouldn’t matter and he would be able to run the day away, but he wasn’t there quite yet.
“I need clothes,” he said. “And I need to borrow your car.”
Jackson shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, son, but I ain’t got any clothes that’ll fit you.”
“He might be able to squeeze into some sweatpants,” Stewart said. “Or a loose pair of boxers, if you wear them. You know, to at least cover the basics…” The human waved a hand vaguely in the direction below Luis’s waist, looking away.
Another time the human’s discomfort with his nudity might have made Luis grin, but not now. His muscles were jumping with adrenaline, and every word they spoke felt like a delay. He could change back to a dog and make that uncomfortable run for the bars, but he didn’t want to give anybody plausible deniability for shooting a dangerous stray they found running loose through town. Better to stay in human form and take a vehicle.
From outside the trailer, another man called, “Dan, Stewart—what’s keeping you back there? Are we playing poker any time soon?”
“I’ll try on anything you’ve got,” Luis said to Jackson.
“Right,” Jackson said.
Even as the two humans turned to leave, lights flashed across the trailer windows. A car pulled around the corner of the house and rolled to a stop. The headlights cut out. Luis gently nudged the curtain away from the window, looking outside as the trickle of adrenaline running through his veins became a flood.
The car was a 1984 BMW. Claudia climbed out of the driver’s seat. She still wore jeans and a black sweatshirt, her lean, graceful body and hard, composed face illuminated by the light that shone from the house’s windows. Metal glinted briefly as she tucked her Glock at the small of her back. Luis relaxed as his immediate sense of urgency eased. He let the curtain fall back into place.
“Be right back,” Jackson said. Stewart had already stepped out, the frigid night air swirling into the trailer’s interior.
Luis nodded. He glanced at the older male as he said, “Thanks. For everything.”
Jackson returned the nod then shut the door behind him as he left.
Luis twitched the curtain aside again. He watched Jackson intercept Claudia, and they stood close together, talking. Claudia glanced at the trailer.
He turned away and looked around the interior. After a moment’s hesitation, he strode over to the shadowed alcove of the bed, took a sheet, folded it a couple of times then wound it around his waist. You know, to at least cover the basics.
As he knotted it, the trailer door opened again and Claudia stepped inside, talking as she entered. “Jackson told me about the healing potions and that you were able to—” Her voice cut off abruptly.
He turned to face her, one eyebrow raised, and a vain part of him felt intensely satisfied as she looked as poleaxed as Jackson and Stewart had, her vivid green gaze stricken.
Then one corner of her beautiful mouth lifted. She said, “Boy howdy, Precious, you really are one big son of a bitch.”
“Yes,” he said.
He walked over to her, moving gently. The distance was not far, perhaps four paces. Her expression changed and grew wary, eyes watchful, but, he was glad to see, she didn’t retreat like Jackson and Stewart had. Ready to pull back at any sign of aversion, he bent and tilted his head. He noticed she held her breath, but he didn’t. He inhaled deeply her warm scent that carried a hint of gun oil and now held a hint of beer.
So goddamn hot. And that was no longer hypothetical.
He pressed his lips lightly, quickly, to the high, firm curve of her cheekbone and drew back to look into her eyes. He said quietly, “Thank you for saving my life.”
The stiff wariness eased from her long body. She gave him a faint but real smile. There were tiny laugh lines in her smooth, tanned skin, at the corners of her mouth and her eyes.
“You’re welcome, Luis.”
Really shaken for the first time that evening, Claudia tried to hide the impact that Luis in his human form had on her.
He was so tall, she noticed he had to be careful that he didn’t scrape his head on the trailer’s ceiling. His body was massive, heavy muscles overlaid on strong, sturdy bones, with a wide, powerful chest that tapered to a long, washboard stomach. His smooth, brown, silken-looking skin wrapped the whole package like the world’s most extravagant Christmas gift, and that sheet he’d knotted at his lean hips was the bow. He had dark, bitter-chocolate eyes, boldly molded features and a mouth that was so full and sensual, it should have looked girlish but didn’t. His thick, black, gleaming hair held a hint of curl. It was a touch too long for the style he wore and flopped in his eyes, as though he were a couple weeks’ late in getting it cut.
As he walked toward her, he moved with a fighter’s easy, athletic confidence, and when he brushed her cheek, his mouth was very warm against her chilled skin.
She was used to big, tough men, and experienced with commanding them in combat missions. In some ways, Luis’s physical presence was so damn familiar it was comforting on a visceral level. That was disturbing all on its own, because her gut insisted that she recognized him and his presence filled a hole that had been inside of her ever since she had lost the others in her unit and retired.
As if that weren’t enough to knock her off balance, his presence had an intense vitality filled with a sexuality that ran dark and hot. It was sultry, powerful. It was knowledgeable. He carried that knowledge in his DNA, and it manifested in every languid, graceful move of his body and in those dark, intelligent eyes.
This was a man who’d had a whole lot of sex and he really, really liked it. And why wouldn’t he? By the time he hit puberty, every female he met and probably several of the males would have fallen over in invitation the moment they laid eyes on him.
And she was not immune either to his particularly potent brand of alchemy.
She had not felt sexual interest or desire in over three years. She had really been okay with the thought that perhaps that part of her life was over, which made it doubly shocking to have her sexuality come roaring back to life like a lit match thrown on a lake of kerosene. Heat washed through her body, and she could tell by his small smile that he knew it. He would be able to tell by her scent she was attracted to him.
The final sucker punch? He was so goddamn young.
Goddamn. Young.
Good Christ, even taking into account that he was Wyr and not human, she was fairly confident that he was somewhere in his mid-twenties.
Which meant she was a good fifteen years older than he was.
Fifteen years. It was actually, physically possible that she might be old enough to be his mother.
She turned away. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. She looked down at them. They were shaking. She clenched them into fists and willed the shaking to stop.
“Jackson said you went out to the bars,” he said. With that slight touch of accent, his voice was just like the rest of him, low and dark and sinful like melted chocolate.
What happened to that insulation she had worked so hard to maintain for the last few years? It had been stripped away by the desert sun and an animal’s suffering, and now she felt raw and critically vulnerable. She had to clench her teeth a moment before she could reply.
“I bought you—us—some time,” she said.
“How?” He was light on his feet and so silent she didn’t even know that he had moved until she heard the fridge door open. “Mind if I have some of this tea?”
“Help yourself.” Having gotten herself marginally under more control, she turned around. His immense back was still marred with faint marks where the skin was newly healed, and a shadow of muscle rippled as he twisted the cap off the bottle of tea and tilted his head back to drink. His skin would be warm. She wondered if it was as silken as it looked, and she closed her eyes against the sight. She remembered he h
ad asked her a question, and she told him, “I attracted the attention of Bradshaw Junior and company.”
In the next instant, she felt his hands close over her shoulders. God, he was so fast. His grip was very large and strong. If anyone else had grabbed her like that, she would have put them on the floor, but she didn’t do that this time. Instead, she just opened her eyes.
He looked tense, dark gaze concerned. “What did they do?”
“They were working themselves up to come after you,” she said. “I was worried they might try something like that. The sandstorm had blown in, the phone lines were down, and you were too bad off to travel. I had no idea Jackson would become so innovative, and scare up some healing potion. So I got them alone, and I broke some bones.”
“Broke some bones,” he said. His face went blank.
She smiled. “Someone should find them before morning. If they aren’t headed to the nearest ER by now, they will be soon. Luis, they are out of commission. That will draw attention from Bradshaw Senior, which will probably make things worse in the long run, but with cell reception and landlines down, someone will have to drive the news out. I also expect that Rodriguez will show up here sooner or later, but I figured it was the right price to pay, so that you, Jackson and his poker buddies would be safe for the night. I wouldn’t want to relax too much in case Rodriguez gets extra enthusiastic, but I think things should be quiet enough until dawn.”
“You’re sure,” he said. His grip had become bruising. She didn’t think he realized it. “You’re sure they’re out of commission.”
She found her footing again. Suddenly calm and steady, she held his gaze. She said gently, “I’m quite sure. I knew what I was doing, and I promise you, I put them down hard.”
The expression on his face had turned raw, and those beautiful dark eyes of his filled with a remembered nightmare. He whispered, “Damn, I wish I could have seen that.”