Her head started to buzz, and somehow that only made the reality of her life, and this day, clamor louder in her head. She had no family, nothing to lose – her mother had died in childbirth, and her father was a drunk who’d kicked her out when she was sixteen. But Ellen, poor thing… she’d had a wonderful family — a family that Marissa envied — who had been ripped from her life in a matter of weeks. Marissa wanted to help Ellen. She wanted to help people, to make her life count. But the things she’d seen this past month — the pain and hurt, the loss — were eating her alive. She didn’t know if she was cut out for this, and guilt twisted inside her for her own weakness.
“How about another,” Evan asked, suddenly in front of her, and she hadn’t even seen him coming. Which said a lot about how much of a zone she’d been in – Evan was hard to miss.
She drew a sip from her straw and emptied the glass, pushing it toward him. “Considering I’m already buzzing,” she said, thinking his lips looked even sexier with a little alcohol to heat her blood, “that’s probably not a good idea. I’d planned to take a taxi home, but I want to be sure I can actually find the taxi.”
“You weren’t joking about not being a drinker, I guess.” Dark eyes assessed her with a probing, intimate inspection and, she had a feeling, he saw far more than she would have liked right about now. She shook her head. “It’s a control thing,” she said, “which is probably why the ER is exactly where I don’t belong. I can’t control anything there. Nothing. Horrible things happen – death happens – and I can’t do anything to stop it.”
“You’re focusing on the lives lost,” he said. “Not the lives saved.”
“I know,” she said. “I do. In the logical part of my mind, that makes sense. But I go home and think of the lives lost or the people that will never walk, talk, or see again. Those are the people who haunt my dreams. I left Austin to come here, and I think…it was a mistake.”
“You’ll find a place to put the bad stuff,” he assured her. “It just takes time.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will.”
He said the words with such certainty, she found herself curious. “You say that as if you speak from experience.”
His lips lifted, but the smile didn’t touch his eyes where sadness danced in the shadows. “I’ll get you that drink.”
“No!” she said, knowing full well her tongue was already waggling way too much from the fuzzy stuff in her head. Most likely her feet would be tripping all over themselves. “I think I better stop. Escape sounded great until my head started buzzing.”
He leaned forward, his hands sliding onto the bar on either side of her. “I’ll make sure you get home safely, Marissa.”
She swallowed hard. There was something about the way he said "Marissa," and the heated way he was staring at her, that set her heart thundering in her chest. Did he mean … he’d take her home or he’d get her a taxi?
Marissa didn’t do one-night stands, or first-night sex, or drinking alone in bars. Not normally. But tonight, nothing in her world made sense. She reached in her purse and slid her keys onto the bar.
Tomorrow, she’d make sense out of the nonsense. She’d be responsible, she’d figure things out. But tonight she needed an escape. Maybe that escape was a slushy cold drink. Maybe it was Evan. She didn’t know. She didn’t care.
***
Three hours later, the bar was closed, but Evan had ensured that Marissa lingered in her seat, a drink in front of her. He wasn’t about to allow her to leave without him, and not just because of the wolf he was certain would have her in his sight. No – there was more to his desire to keep Marissa nearby. Plain and simple, he wanted her, and not just physically, though there was no question, she got him hot and hard. He was, after all, a male, a vampire male, with primal, sexual instincts that had him imagining all kinds of wicked ways to make her scream his name. But what really had him by the balls was not the desire she created in him, but the way she’d made him laugh when he’d have sworn it wasn’t possible. The way she’d made him smile when he was certain he had no reason. The way she’d made him realize how empty a century of hunting had made him and he wanted to know why, and how, a woman he barely knew could do such things. The time for discovery, both in and out of bed, was not now though.
He wiped down the counter, working toward closing up the bar, focused on getting Marissa out of here safely. To ensure the wolf didn’t target her, as he normally did the friends and acquaintances of his victims.
All but done with the façade of this night’s bartender duties, he cast a quick, seductive glance at Marissa, making no attempt to tame the primal heat in his stare. She wasn’t for him, he told himself silently. She was a forever kind of girl, and not the kind of forever he could give her. Nevertheless, when she smiled shyly at him, his groin tightened, cock thickening against his zipper, and he knew he wasn’t walking away without fucking her every which way she’d have him.
He tossed the rag down, and rounded the bar, eliminating the counter that had separated them all night, to stand beside her, his hand on the back of her stool. She turned to face him, the scent of her teasing his nostrils, his arm creating an intimate enclosure, trapping her between the counter and his body. She was his in that moment and the idea appealed to him far more than it should. One tilt of his head and his teeth could touch that delicate, pale neck. His lips her lips. His body her body.
She glanced up at him, her long, dark lashes fluttering with a combination of uncertainty and desire, her pupils dilated with the effects of the alcohol she’d consumed.
“You really are…tall,” she whispered.
“And you,” he said, brushing a finger over her chin, “really are beautiful.” And innocent. Too innocent and perfect for the likes of him.
She shivered. “Tall and a smooth talker, I think I should be afraid.” Her palm slid down the bar. “Ouch!” She drew her hand forward, red pooling on her index finger, a splinter of wood sticking out from the red center.
Instant lust fired through Evan as he took the opportunity presented and snatched the splinter away before he drew her finger to his lips. The sweet taste of her blood exploded on his taste buds, filling him with lust, desire -- fueling the sexual side of his vampire nature, when he already wanted this woman to the point of white-hot demand. His gums tingled, his recessed cuspids threatening to extend.
His eyes met hers, the scent of her arousal, the taste of her blood, seeping through him with a demand that he claim her, claim satisfaction. Somewhere in the back of the bar a door slammed shut. The sound was a jolt of reality that shook Evan just enough to calm the beast inside him threatening to take control of him, of her.
Slowly his tongue swirled around her finger, and then he released it, inspecting the area where the splinter had been.
“All better,” he said.
A stunned look etched her features. “I was right,” she whispered.
His brows dipped, “Right?”
“When I said I should be afraid of you,” she explained. “Because there is no way that what you just did should not bother me but it…”
He leaned close, sliding his face against hers, his lips near her ear, his mouth far too close to the vein he hungered to puncture -- for his own good – most certainly for her own good. And yet, he found himself asking, “Aroused you?”
She drew a breath. “Yes.”
“As it did me,” he assured her, and silently wondered if perhaps it was him that should be afraid of her, for the way she stole his reserve, his caution. His control.
He leaned back, offering her his hand to help her stand. “I won’t bite,” he promised. “Not unless you ask me to.” And damn how he wished she would, how he wanted to convince her she should.
She laughed, nervously. “I’ve never asked a man to bite me in my life,” she said, pressing her palm against his.
He brought her fingers to his lips. “Then I could be the first.”
Her eyes went wide, ??
?To bite me?”
“In the most pleasurable of ways,” he assured her.
She blushed. “I must be drunk,” she said, “because I so believe you. Probably a sign I need to go home.”
“I’ll drive you and take a cab home,” he offered. “Then you’ll have your car tomorrow.”
She considered him a moment. “I should say no.”
“But you’re going to say yes.”
“Yes,” she agreed, and smiled. “And I’m going to blame the alcohol in the morning.”
His hands slid to her waist. “Blame means regret,” he said. “And I don’t plan to let you have any regrets.
“Pretty confident there now, aren’t you?”
He took her hand. “Very.” Confident tonight would be hell. Confident that no matter how much the thrum of desire urging him to find a bed, rip her clothes off and bury himself inside her, he wouldn’t act on those desires. Not when she’d been drinking.
“You can still find your car, right?” he asked teasingly, as he turned the key in the front door and motioned to the closing manager to lock up behind him.
She laughed. “Of course, I’m too drunk to drive it, but it’s still big enough for me to find.”
He shoved open the door, stepping outside to a rush of awareness. Tension raked over Evan’s nerve endings, his vampire senses screaming with the presence of a wolf. Covertly, he had an advantage. He could sense the wolf, but as a vampire, he was essentially dead, so he had no scent, no emotion for the wolf to pick up. But out in the open like this, the wolf would see him and sense nothing human in him. In other words, the wolf would know Evan was a vampire, a Warden hunting him. That put the ball back in the wolf’s corner. Run or attack. And since most Wardens worked alone -- he and his brothers being the exceptions -- the wolf might well be cocky enough to attack.
“I left my jacket inside,” Evan said, turning back to the bar entrance. One of his brothers could stay with Ellen, but he needed the other brother here, ready to take out the wolf, while Evan protected Marissa.
Evan knocked on the door.
“You wear a jacket in this heat?” Marissa asked, the humid Texas night stiflingly impossible to ignore.
“Fashion statement,” he told her. “And since my wallet is inside my jacket pocket, an important one.”
The manager looked through the double glass door and opened it up. “Forget something?”
Evan nodded. "Yeah, I’ll be quick.”
He pulled Marissa inside, found himself tenderly brushing hair from her eyes, wondering what it was about this woman that brought out such an action. He was a hunter, an assassin, a man who was no longer a man. “Don’t move,” he instructed brusquely, trying to get himself back on track, focused on his mission. More focused on protecting her rather than fucking her. “I’ll be right back.”
She wobbled and grabbed his arm. “Woops. Guess I moved. The floor is unsteady.”
“The floor,” he said, his lips twitching, a smile trying to invade his desperate need to separate the Warden hunting werewolf and the Warden hunting this female. She was adorable, a witch casting a spell over him. “Of course,” he led her to a table and settled her into a chair, squatting down beside her. “Now this time, I mean it. Don’t move.”
She offered him a crooked smile framed by a glassy-eyed stare. “I’d say it’s a pretty safe gamble I won’t be getting up without your help.”
“Good,” he said, caressing the back of her leg. “I don’t want you to go anywhere without me.”
***
Marissa watched Evan depart with his loose-legged, sexy swagger, leaving her alone in the front of the bar, and a low moan escaped her lips. Man almighty, he was incredible. She could feel the ache between her thighs, the tingle of awareness in her nipples. She was a wanton hussy! Oh good grief. This was not who she was, drunk or sober. She didn’t need to go where this was going -- to where she was headed with this man. She didn’t need to wake up feeling crappy about her life choices, and then feeling like a hussy to top it off. She hadn’t made it through life alone by making irresponsible or irrational decisions. But then again, Evan was really hot, and maybe she wouldn’t remember the hussy part. She giggled. She wasn’t a giggler, didn’t like gigglers, and was even appalled at the idea that she’d suddenly become one. Another giggle slid uncontrollably from her lips.
She pushed to her feet and her stomach instantly rolled. Oh great, she thought, grabbing the wooden arm of the chair. “I’m going to be sick,” she murmured. A hot man, a night of inhibitions-be-damned, and she was on the verge of throwing up. Wasn’t that just the story of her life?
Another roll of her stomach and Marissa knew she was in deep trouble. Desperation to escape before she embarrassed herself, she rushed to the door, thanking the good Lord that the keys were hanging in the lock. Somehow, she managed to turn the key and shove the door open. Relief washed over her. She was safe from embarrassing herself in front of Evan. Or she would be if she could hold her stomach in check long enough to get to the side of the building.
Chapter Three
Marissa stumbled forward, thankful she still possessed the capacity to act, to make it to the alley where no one could see her. Marissa’s purse flopped around on her shoulder, though she had no memory of how it got there. Not a second too soon, she rounded the side of the building and found the sanctuary of the dark alley. Horrible stomach pain bent her at the waist and seconds turned into minutes, as the sickness overcame her.
When finally she heaved herself to stand upright, she knew any fantasy romance for the night was over. She not only felt like crap, she must look it. And please let there be a stick of gum in her purse. She fumbled with the leather strap, trying to get her zipper open, when a sudden rush of icy cold awareness slid through her. Marissa froze, immediately aware of the pitch-black alley as a place of danger, rather than a sanctuary. A sense of foreboding lodged her breath in her throat, some instinct telling her not to move, not to dare to so much as blink. Someone was in the sheet of blackness surrounding her and she knew it in every pore of her being.
She strained to adjust her eyes, to see something, anything. Then -- a sound -- a slight scraping of the pavement. Her heart jack hammered and she turned to run only to come face to face with a pair of red glowing eyes. A growl permeated the air at the same moment Marissa screamed.
An instant later, a powerful solid force blasted into her and she hit the ground hard. Her bones and teeth rattled with the impact, and gravel grinded into her back. But fear was more powerful than the pain and Marissa tried to get up, tried to escape. She pressed up onto her hands when a heavy body came down on top of hers. A hot, wicked breath washed over her face in the midst of a snarl. Right then, she knew she was in deep trouble. This was no man -- this was worse. This was a wild animal, a big wild animal.
She opened her mouth to scream again but teeth dug into her shoulder. Marissa gasped with the ripping of her flesh, the crunching of tendons and bone. Her body jerked on its own, as if nerves were reacting to the damage. She tried to scream, but no sound would come. She hurt…God, she hurt so badly. She willed herself to fight, to move, to survive -- cursed the alcohol that made her weaker, that made her head spin, that surely contributed to why her limbs refused to move. She was limp, a rag doll being torn apart. And all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and pray.
***
At the same moment a scream ripped through the air, Evan burst through the double doors of the bar, tasting Marissa’s fear as surely as he’d tasted the sweetness of her blood only a short time before. In a flash, he was around the dark alley’s corner, thankful for his night vision, despite the horrific scene before him. Marissa was on the ground, the wolf hovering above her fallen body.
Instantly, the wolf’s head lifted with awareness of Evan’s presence, blood dripping from its lips. Evan was behind the beast in a flash of vampire speed. He flung the wolf hard against a Dumpster, anger fueling his power. The wolf hit the metal with a thunderin
g jolt before plummeting to the ground.
Evan squatted next to Marissa where she lay unconscious, blood spurting from a clawed gouge running from her neck to her shoulder where teeth had punctured her clear past the bone. His gaze cut to where the wolf pushed to its feet in a snarl of irritation. Evan and the yellow-eyed beast locked gazes, the wolf’s stare radiating aggression.
“Come and get me, Wolf!” he yelled.
The wolf bared spiked fangs with a snarl, curling its seven-foot plus tall body forward, posturing up for an attack. Evan sprang to his feet, standing in ready position.
Several tense seconds passed, a silent standoff ensuing, until abruptly, the wolf snarled and then with a spry leap to the roof of the bar, he was gone. A moment of indecision overcame Evan. The wolf was escaping, potentially targeting many more humans, yet if he didn’t attend to Marissa’s injuries she would surely bleed to death.
Evan snapped his gaze from where the retreating wolf had disappeared and focused on Marissa, his chest tightening at the sight of her pale face illuminated by his night vision. He bent down beside her, lifted her so that she rested against him, knowing he was bound by council law to kill her. She’d been bitten by a wolf infected with a virus comparable to rabies if the animal kept a sound, calculating mind. A virus that would infect Marissa, turn her into the same kind of monster. Everything inside him screamed with the injustice of it, with blame for leaving her alone. He reacted with possessiveness, protectiveness for this woman that defied their short encounter. Exactly why he usually kept his encounters with women in the bedroom. He didn’t want to know them, he didn’t want to care. Because caring didn’t help him, caring didn’t allowing him to do his Warden duty.
Without giving himself time to think about the consequences of his actions, really not giving a damn, he bit his wrist and trickled blood past her lips, giving her the substance that would heal her. He could save her. He would save her.