Hunting Human

  “Come home with me.” He kept his face close to hers, his breath ghosting across her swollen lips, but the hand on her back slid away, pressing against the door of the Jeep. “Come home with me, Beth.”

  Air rushed into her lungs and back to her brain, restoring reason. Beth shook her head. “I’m not… I don’t…” She wasn’t the type of woman to take a lover lightly, and never on a first date, but for the briefest moment she considered it.

  “I’m not ready.”

  “Any more ready and we’d combust.” Something in her expression must have conveyed that her mind was set because he sighed, placed a final, brief kiss on her lips and took a strained step back. “I had to ask. At least now I know it’ll be on your mind.”

  Oh, it’ll be on my mind. Probably to the point of distraction.

  “At least say you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow, we’ll do something casual, maybe catch a movie.”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s it, just okay? I don’t have to harass you into it this time?”

  “Not this time.” A small smile played across her face.

  “I guess I’ll have to kiss you more often, especially if it’s going to make you more accommodating.” He smiled and bent his head. “Maybe I should try it again and see if I can’t change your mind about tonight…”

  Beth laughed as she dodged to the right. “Such an ego. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She unlocked the car, but Braden pulled the door open before she got the chance.

  “I’ll call you when I’m done with work, probably around six, if that works.”

  “Sure.” She tossed her purse on the passenger seat and clicked her seat belt in place. “We can meet at Angie’s.” When she turned the ignition, Braden leaned up, placed a quick kiss on her cheek then closed the door. Beth rolled down her window as she put the Jeep in reverse, “Do you need a lift to your car?”

  “Nah, I’m close. Good night, Beth.”

  “Good night.”

  Palms damp against the steering wheel and nerves still singing she curb checked as she pulled out of the parking lot. She was certain she saw Braden laughing in her rearview mirror when she curb checked pulling onto the street.

  ***

  A distant peal of thunder resonated up the street. Where the fuck was she? Markko pushed smoke through his nostrils and tossed the butt of his cigarette to the ground where it joined a dozen others. He’d tracked the Williams bitch to where she worked downtown and located her car in one of the few public lots close to her job. He’d toyed with the idea of going into the café to see if this was the right woman or not, but the last thing he wanted was an open confrontation. If this was the bitch he was looking for, he didn’t want to confront her in a coffee shop in the middle of the afternoon. No. They were going to play this game on his terms, on his schedule. He’d expose himself when she would be alone and vulnerable, and when she would feel the most violated.

  Instead, he’d retreated to her car, found a sheltered vantage point and waited. For hours. At this point, he didn’t care if this was the woman he was looking for. He was considering killing her for the inconvenience. And if it actually started to rain before she got here? Well then he’d just have to kill her slowly.

  A few minutes later, a man and a woman rounded the corner and started up the long street toward the parking lot. Wind heralding the incoming storm rushed past them, catching the woman’s skirt and making her shiver. Markko pressed closer to the alley’s opening. They were still too far away to be sure, but the woman was the right build, tall and slender, with the same brown hair he remembered from years ago. But she had her head tilted toward the man she was with, her face hidden from view.

  Cursing, Markko shifted farther forward, careful to remain out of the glow of the streetlamp. The pair walked into the deserted parking lot, backs to him, completely unaware of their audience. He continued to observe them while they stood outside of the Jeep, going through the motions of an awkward good-night.

  “Come on, come on. Fucking kiss her and get the hell out of my way.” The parking lot’s lights spilled across the pavement where the Jeep was parked, but the guy stood directly in Markko’s line of sight. If he’d step to the side Markko could get a look at the woman’s face.

  Finally, the prick found his balls and pushed the woman up against the car. Just as he thought the guy was going to grab her under her armpits and fuck her against the Jeep, he pulled back. Markko couldn’t hear what they were saying from across the street but the body language rang loud and clear. The fucking tease was saying no, and damned if that pussy didn’t pull back. Markko snorted to himself. If the prick didn’t have the balls to take what he wanted, especially when the woman was so clearly toying with him, then he deserved to spend the night with his fist.

  Finally, the woman got in her car and pulled out of the parking lot, giving Markko an unobstructed view of her face as she pulled out onto the street.

  Old anger ignited within him, pumping adrenaline through his veins and raising the hair on his arms.

  Hello, Lizzy.

  Finally, he could move forward. He’d come back tomorrow, follow her home and figure out how he wanted to play this out. It would take a few days to make arrangements to get her out of the country or find a suitable location nearby. But one thing was certain, given a week, two at the most, and he’d snare his prey. She’d squeal like a pinned rabbit as he tore apart her existence, piece by piece.

  Markko turned down the alley, thoughts consumed with plans and anticipation. The moment his back was to the parking lot, awareness shot up his spine, resting heavily against the back of his skull, raising the hair along his neck. Slowly, he turned back toward the parking lot, instinct driving him to caution. His eyes locked on the man walking out of the parking lot.

  The guy came to an abrupt halt, head snapping toward Markko’s position, eyes peering into the darkness. Though his expression remained calm and curious, his stance went wide and his shoulders squared, warrior-ready.

  “Fuck,” Markko snarled, pulling himself as far as he could into the shadow of the building behind him, carefully retreating to the next street over.

  Edwards. That bitch was spreading her legs for Edwards, probably in exchange for protection.

  Rage coiled down his spine, seizing his muscles. The stench of the alley filled his nostrils and coated his tongue. His fingers curled reflexively, tendons pulling taut to prepare for paws instead of hands. His teeth elongated in his still human mouth, slicing into his tongue. The metallic tang of his own blood narrowly kept him from shifting on the spot.

  He slammed his fists into the brick wall to his right, the pain radiating from his knuckles up through his arms fighting back the rage and adrenaline. Keeping the change in check.

  Son of a bitch.

  He spat the blood pooling in his mouth.

  Abducting and killing the woman was supposed to be simple. Easy. Fun.

  Taking her from Edwards would be an open challenge. A declaration of war.

  His wolf snarled and paced at the front of his mind. Primed for the hunt, lusting for the kill. Edwards’ bitch or not, he wouldn’t forsake his vengeance.

  She had to pay. He hadn’t left his pack and defied his father to walk away now. Edwards was little more than a complication. An irritant to be dealt with.

  Or used.

  His anger settled, low and tight in his gut. Present but contained. The haze of red clouding his mind and exciting his wolf cleared enough for the first vague notions of a plan to take hold.

  The Edwardses are nothing if not predictable.

  He’d have to move cautiously. Determine the exact relationship between Edwards and the woman. Their involvement complicated but ultimately didn’t change things. If anything, it sweetened the pay off.

  The bitch would die. Perhaps not as slowly as he’d planned; timing would be crucial. But pain—applied correctly—could stretch minutes to hours. Hours to lifetimes. She’d beg for death before he was through. And after
he finished? Well, Edwards could have her back.

  Piece by piece.

  And if her death brings war to my father’s doorstep? All the better. He’ll face the Edwards clan head-on—and expose his vulnerable back.

  Chapter Eight

  Braden pulled a beer out of the fridge, popped the top off on the counter and closed the door on a long and unproductive day. Hell, if he were honest with himself, he hadn’t been productive in more than a week. Every time he found a good working flow, something would remind him of Beth. The way she smelled, the way her skin felt beneath his fingertips, the way her breath caressed his face after they kissed. She was driving him crazy. Worse, he knew it showed. Even his secretary had noticed something was off.

  I need to get my head on straight.

  “You gonna drink that or just keep rolling it between your palms?”

  “When did you get here?” Braden glanced around Caleb. “And where’s Chase?”

  “On the phone. You were sound asleep on the couch when Chase and I came in last night. Still haven’t gotten lucky, huh? How long’s it been? A week, two?” Caleb smiled maliciously. “Losing your touch?”

  “Shut up.” Braden pushed Caleb away as his brother made a grab for the beer. “Get your own.”

  “Ah, don’t worry, everyone strikes out every now and then.” Caleb’s expression turned wicked. “Besides, the way I hear it you get the occasional, shall we say, exotic offer.”

  Braden choked on his beer. “Chase! You little shit!”

  “No need to be embarrassed.” Caleb moved around him to retrieve another beer from the fridge. “The way Chase tells it, he—I mean she—was quite the looker. Long, powerful legs, short skirt, killer heels…”

  “Caleb.” Braden set his beer down on the counter.

  “Shut up?” Caleb asked with a smile.

  “Yeah.” Braden cracked his knuckles.

  “Alright, alright. Out of brotherly respect I’ll drop it.”

  Chase came in and dropped into the black leather club chair across from Braden. “We need to talk.”

  “Fuck, what now?” Braden asked.

  “Jason just reported in.”

  “And?” Braden leaned forward, lines creasing his forehead.

  “He’s been tailing Markko off and on for over a week now. He’s a slippery bastard.” Chase frowned and glanced out the window; Braden knew he was itching to get out and start looking for Markko.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “You can’t keep me here forever.” Chase snapped his head up, fury tightening his expression.

  “A week or two isn’t going to kill you.”

  Caleb made a frustrated noise. “Enough. Chase, stop acting like a child. Braden, stop acting like his mother. What’s the bad news?”

  Chase ran his hands through his hair. “He’s been following you some, Braden. He’s also been to Angie’s.”

  “Fuck.”

  “It gets better.” Chase stared steadily at Braden. “We think he may be following that girl.”

  “What girl?” A tendril of unease unfurled in Braden’s mind, sliding down his spine like water down an icicle.

  “The one you’ve been seeing.” Chase released a strangled breath, as if he anticipated an explosion any second.

  “Just what the hell are you saying?”

  “Just that he seems very interested in her.”

  “And what?” Braden forcibly uncurled his fists and stretched his fingers. “And what else, Chase?”

  “Look, we know he’s been following you, usually when you’re with her,” Chase said, his voice flat.

  “Since when?” Anger exploded through Braden. How long had Markko been following them, following Beth?

  “Since the first night you went out.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you say something sooner?” Braden hissed.

  “Because we don’t know what he wants. Or why he’s here. He keeps switching motels, slipping the people assigned to him. But we know he’s been watching the two of you when you’re together. I felt it was worth waiting to see if he tipped his hand,” Chase said, the words carefully measured.

  “Jesus, Chase. Bad enough he’s been following me. I can take care of myself. But how many times has he been to Angie’s? Or followed Beth when I wasn’t around? He’s dangerous.” Braden growled, shoving his fingers through his hair in an effort not to throttle his brother.

  “Look, he hasn’t been back to Angie’s since the first night you went out with the woman. From what Jason said he didn’t stay long and he didn’t go in. After that he walked a couple blocks, waited around in an alley for a couple hours.”

  “Waited for what, exactly?” Braden asked, fury burning away the rest of his unease.

  “Mostly he just stood there smoking. Left a pile of cigarette butts in the alley. After you said good-night to your date in the parking lot, he left.”

  “But what the fuck was Markko doing there in the first place?” A slick wave of dread consumed him—Markko had obviously witnessed the kiss he’d shared with Beth. Would he consider her leverage in whatever game he was playing?

  “We don’t know yet.” Chase exploded out of his chair and strode to the window. “His behavior is completely atypical for what we know about him. He’s alone. He’s exercising patience. This guy is dangerous, but if we take him out now, we’ll never know what his endgame is. Or what relationship he has with a woman that’s suddenly become a fixture in your life,” Chase added.

  “Just what are you implying?”

  “Just that he wasn’t standing outside your loft or your parking garage.” Chase leaned against the wall, his expression guarded.

  “So? Maybe he didn’t know where to look,” Caleb interjected.

  “Could be.” Chase shrugged, “Or he might not have been waiting for Braden, at all.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Braden took his empty beer bottle to the kitchen. “That lot is the closest public parking to Angie’s. He could have guessed that I’d parked there, especially if he knew I’d been to Angie’s earlier that day.”

  “Maybe.” Chase’s surly silence filled the room.

  “But what?” Braden snapped.

  “It’s a little convenient.” Chase pushed away from the wall and settled into a jerky pace. “Markko shows up and suddenly, out of nowhere, a woman he’s clearly interested in seduces you?”

  Braden slammed the lid of the trashcan. “For the love of… Beth is hardly in league with Markko!”

  “You can’t know that!” Chase vibrated with anger. “You’ve only just met her!”

  “Enough,” Caleb interceded.

  Braden forced his jaw shut.

  Of all the ridiculous ideas.

  “Look, as usual, Chase is being cautious.”

  “Paranoid is more like it.”

  “Shut up,” Caleb snapped. “Look, Chase, you’re probably overreacting. It’s a stretch to think this woman is involved. I’m sure there’s another explanation.” Braden opened his mouth, but Caleb cut him off. “Don’t. He has a point. How much do you know about her?”

  “Enough.” His voice came out rough and far more possessive than he intended, and neither of his brothers failed to notice.

  “Alright, alright. We get it. You Tarzan, she Jane. But while you’re busy dragging her back to your place, could you exercise a little caution? It’ll hardly kill you.”

  “In the meantime, Chase is right. It’s dangerous to take out Markko when we don’t know what, if any, connection he has with this girl. If there’s even the slightest chance that she’s a threat to the family, we need to know.”

  Not sure what irritated him more, his brothers or the fact that he felt so protective of a woman he barely knew, Braden sighed and conceded. “Fine, whatever.” He strode out of the kitchen, “I’m grabbing a shower and going out.”

  If he hurried, he could probably catch Beth at the end of her shift. Whether to spite his brothers or ease his own mind he wasn’t sure, but he
needed to see her.

  ***

  Beth jumped then smiled when arms slid around her waist and lips brushed a kiss against her neck. She finished ladling the soup into a large mug for herself, then turned in Braden’s arms.

  “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” Braden plucked the mug from her fingers, set it on the counter and swept her into a possessive kiss. When he finally released her, Beth was flushed and breathless.

  “Wow. That was hot!”

  Beth groaned when she saw Marianne standing in the doorway.

  “Don’t mind me, don’t mind me.” Marianne grabbed the bus bin by the sink. “Pretend I’m not even here.” She winked and backed out into the main part of the café.

  Ten seconds of complete silence passed between them before they both broke out in laughter. “Why do I suddenly feel like I’m sixteen again?” Braden asked.

  “Get caught making out in Angie’s kitchen a lot as a teenager?” Beth tried to glare, but felt the corners of her lips pulling up against her will.

  “Nah. Just once.” Braden grimaced. “Angie caught me. I found better places after that.”

  “I’ve no doubt. What are you doing here? I didn’t think I’d be seeing you until tomorrow.” Beth dodged as Braden leaned in to kiss her again.

  “I decided I couldn’t wait.” He ghosted a hand down her arm, the touch as familiar and intimate as his kiss. “Are you off soon?”

  “Now, as a matter of fact. A little early, but Marianne said she could close up—it’s been slow tonight. Are you hungry?”

  “Always.” Braden whispered as he leaned back in, catching Beth for another kiss.

  “Cut it out.” She laughed and pulled away. “I meant food. I’m going to grab a leftover sandwich and some soup. Would you like some?”