Her hand clenched around the knife’s handle. Gage was supposed to be dangerous. Lethal. The strongest paranormal badass to claim Vegas in years.
Because he was a paranormal. The supernaturals were real and breathing . . . and many were hiding in the shadows of Sin City.
He was the perfect target right then. Tousled hair. Sated male. Defenseless. It would be so easy. Just lift the knife. Drive the blade into his flesh.
“Oh, I think I already know all the secrets you have, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a low and sexy growl.
Kayla shook her head. Damn tears. “No, you don’t—”
In a flash, he rolled toward her. He leapt up and came at her with claws ripping from his fingers.
Not defenseless.
Claws . . . because Gage Riley wasn’t human.
Shifter.
His blue eyes shined at her with the light of the beast and he put those too-sharp and too-long claws of his at her throat.
The move actually seemed only fair, considering that she had her knife pressed over his heart.
“Hello, hunter,” Gage whispered.
Her own heart shoved hard against her chest. “How long . . .” Kayla licked her lips. Why was her mouth so dry? “How long have you known?”
He brought his head in close to hers. Inhaled her scent. Pressed a light kiss to her cheek. Did he taste the salt of her tears? “Since the first time you walked into my bar.”
What? Kayla shook her head, lost, confused. He’d known since then, and he’d still—
His claws skated lightly over her throat. He didn’t break the skin. Didn’t hurt her. But she knew one slice would cut open her jugular.
“Are you really going to kill me now?” Gage asked as he pulled back to study her with a cocked head. “Just hours after our wedding?”
She was supposed to.
That was her job. As a hunter, she was the one sent out to keep the humans safe in this world. When a supernatural crossed the line and started killing, her team was sent in. They delivered justice. They were the heroes.
Only she didn’t feel like any kind of hero right then.
Killer.
“Was screwing me part of the deal?” Gage demanded as his voice roughened.
Her eyes slit at that. Maybe it was deserved, and maybe it damn well wasn’t. Instead of stabbing him, she wanted to punch him right then.
“If so,” Gage continued with a shake of his head, “that was a rather fatal mistake.”
They were at a supernatural standoff. Claws versus silver. If he’d just sheathe his claws . . .
“Cause now that I’ve had you . . .” Gage smiled at her, and revealed his growing canines. Sharp. “I think I want another bite.”
He’d kept his fangs from her. Kept the claws away last night. But it looked like he was done playing nice.
So was she.
The bed was rumpled. The air smelled of sex. He was naked.
She stared into his eyes. If he knew what she was, then Kayla had no idea why he’d married her. Sure, she’d been ordered to say the “I do” bit. She’d been told to do anything necessary in order to get past his defenses.
Gage Riley ran the wolf pack in Vegas. Since the wolves had moved to town just eight months ago, hell had hit the city. Supernatural madness. Attacks. Killings.
The pack had to be stopped. By any means necessary.
But sex wasn’t a means. Making love was more. Far more.
“Lower your claws,” she told him and managed to keep her voice totally calm. Rather impressive under the circumstances, but she’d been trained to be cold. Passionless. I’m not that way with him. “You aren’t going to kill me.” Those words were the truth because she’d learned a few things about Gage during their time together.
More than a few.
He wasn’t a heartless bastard. Not a cold-blooded killer.
I won’t be wrong about him.
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. Then that half-smile that had always charmed her curled his lips. “Killing you isn’t what I have planned at all.”
He dropped his claws and there still wasn’t so much as a scratch on her skin.
Gage glanced down at his chest. She’d nicked him with the blade, and drops of blood slid down his flesh. Blood—and the faintest plume of smoke.
The old legend was true. Werewolves—or, in this case, wolf shifters—and silver just didn’t mix.
“Now are you gonna cut my heart out?” he asked and his smile hardened. “Though to confess, sweetheart, it sure feels like you already have.”
Her lips parted in surprise. Wait, what? Did he mean—
But then Gage’s head jerked up. His nostrils flared and she knew the wolf was pulling in scents. “Company.” A snarl. His eyes had never looked so cold before. A chill skated over her. “Guess that’s your backup, huh?” Gage charged.
No. She wasn’t supposed to have any backup. Not yet. And she couldn’t hear anything. But . . .
But Gage had a shifter’s sense of smell and hearing. Far, far more advanced than a human’s. That was why it was so hard to take out shifters. They always saw their enemies coming, or smelled ’em. You couldn’t sneak up on prey that could hear you from a mile away.
“I won’t go down easy,” he promised, and she believed him. It would be a bloodbath for whoever came in that door.
Kayla shook her head and dropped the knife. It fell to the carpet without making a sound. “You won’t go down at all.” She’d be punished for this. No question. But . . .
I won’t kill him.
Sometimes, even a hunter had to break the rules. Especially when she’d started to go soft for her prey.
Kayla turned away from him. If more of her team members really were heading down that hallway—and why hadn’t Lyle told her that he was sending in a team so soon?—then Gage would have to act fast. “We’re three floors up, but that shouldn’t be an issue for you.” Shifters could easily survive a fall from that height. He could jump out of the window and vanish. Simple. With dawn just breaking, there wouldn’t be too many folks out to see him, and if any did, they’d just think they were having some kind of hung-over delusion in Vegas. “Go now, before they arrive.”
She dropped her robe. Jerked on her own clothes. She wouldn’t be naked when her team swarmed. Swarmed—and took her into custody because she’d sided with the enemy.
An enemy who attacked your own family.
Kayla yanked on her boots. She could hear the careful tread of footsteps in the hallway now, and her gut clenched.
What would happen to her? Those who disobeyed Lyle didn’t exactly get the chance to hang around the unit for long and make amends. There weren’t any second chances for hunters. Lyle sure didn’t believe in them.
If Lyle cast her out of the unit, what would happen to her brother?
Kayla glanced around the room with its trampled rose petals. She needed to get the knife and strap it back to her ankle. She had to have her weapon close by in case—
“Looking for this?” he drawled and the faint hint of Texas she’d heard a few times before slipped into his voice again.
Gage had dressed, but the guy hadn’t fled yet. The window waited behind him, just begging for the man to leap through it and get the hell out of there. But, no, he was just standing near the wrecked bed and waving her knife between his claws.
“Go,” she gritted out. In about thirty seconds, maybe less, the team would be breaking down the door. She knew their MO. They would have already cleared the third floor. Gotten all the nearby guests relocated during the night.
While I was making love to Gage.
Oh, hell, had the team heard them?
She hoped the walls were thicker than they looked. She hadn’t exactly been playing it quiet last night. Gage had made her scream.
She’d made him growl. Maybe roar.
The silver knife was blistering his fingers. She could see the smoke from across the room. The more powerful a wolf shifter wa
s, the more the silver was supposed to burn. If that old legend was true, Gage had to be very, very powerful indeed.
“You think I’m gonna leave you?” Gage asked, and he threw the knife. It flashed, tumbling end over end, before embedding hilt-deep in the headboard. Her gaze darted to the shaking knife handle, then back to him. Gage lifted one brow at her. “Think again.”
“It will be your funeral,” she whispered. Why couldn’t he leave? She was trying to help him. Didn’t he get that? She didn’t want him hurt. Kayla wanted him to have a chance.
A chance the guy wasn’t taking. Dammit. Fine. Whatever. Maybe she could buy him some more time so that he could get his sanity back and flee like a smart shifter.
She turned and headed for the door. Took two fast steps.
And was jerked back against her husband’s hard, muscled body. “You’re not leaving me,” he told her, his words whispered right into her ear. “You promised forever, remember?”
He’d obviously gone insane. Kayla jerked against him, but there was no give to the guy at all. She’d always known he was much stronger than he looked, but Gage’s arms wouldn’t budge no matter how much she twisted and shoved against him.
Then the hotel room door flew inward, driven by a powerful kick, and three men dressed in black, from toe to ski mask covered heads, burst into the room. They were all armed, and their weapons were pointed right at—
Me.
Shit. Kayla gulped and stopped struggling.
Gage had pulled her in front of him and he was using her as a human shield. His claws were back at her neck. Again with that? And a growl rumbled from his throat. Her husband was definitely showing the beast-like tendencies that he’d kept so carefully hidden for weeks.
He sure wasn’t so easygoing right then.
“Stand the hell down,” Gage ordered, voice cold and deadly, “or watch her die.”
The guy in front lifted his left hand immediately in a signal she knew meant the others should freeze. She couldn’t see the guy’s face, but she didn’t have to. She’d know Jonah anyplace. The tall build, the wiry strength. He was the lead on this mission, and the others would do whatever he commanded.
“Let her go,” Jonah said, and his own voice matched Gage’s in arctic chill. The perfect hunter. Cold and emotionless. Jonah hadn’t always been like that.
But then again, she hadn’t always been a killer, either. They’d both been more, before.
Before a night of blood and screams. Death and hell. And monsters.
“Let her go?” Gage repeated, sounding surprised. He actually laughed, then said, “I don’t think so,” as he began to back up—with her still clutched tightly against him. His slow, deliberate steps eased them across the room.
Oh, so now he was heading toward the window? Kayla kept her movements timed with his and made sure to use her body to shield him. At least he was fleeing now. Better late than never. He’d drop her before he made his exit. He’d be safe. She’d be—
Um, well, something.
Jonah took a step forward.
Gage’s hold tightened on her. “Move again,” he told the men in black, “and you’ll find yourself walking in her blood.”
Kayla’s breath froze in her lungs. Were the vicious words an idle threat or the real deal? In that moment, she wasn’t sure. Claws were at her throat. A shifter at her back. And guns waited in front of her.
Hardly the perfect morning-after that most brides experienced.
Jonah holstered his weapon. He gave a quick hand-motion to the two silent men behind him. They lowered their weapons.
“Why isn’t he dead?” Jonah asked her.
Did he really want her to go into that now?
Gage stopped the backward walk they were doing. He lifted his hand and slammed it into the window. Glass shattered and rained down around their feet.
“Because she loves me,” Gage told him, voice clear and loud. And definitely with a duh edge. “And that’s why she’s leaving you assholes behind and joining me. ”
Kayla’s jaw dropped, but before she could speak, Gage spun her around and pulled her flush against his body.
“Put your arms around me,” he ordered with glinting eyes and a locked jaw. “And hold the hell on.”
She put her arms around him but shook her head. No, he couldn’t mean to take her with him. Not through the window. While he’d easily survive the fall and quickly heal from any broken bones, as a human, she didn’t have that luxury. A fall from the third floor could kill her.
Probably would kill her.
He brought his head in close to hers. His lips feathered over her cheek and he whispered, “Trust me, I’ll keep you safe.”
On a three-story fall? The hell, no, he—
Gage leapt through the window, holding her tight, and Kayla screamed.
Wind whipped past her. I’m dying. So this was the way she was going out. Better than getting slashed apart by a vamp or incinerated by a demon but—
They were on the ground. Gage’s knees had barely buckled. And . . . she was fine. Still held tightly in his arms.
No bruises. No cuts. Nothing.
Holy hell. They’d made it.
“Come on,” he muttered and put her on her feet. His hand still had a tight grip on her arm, and as he rushed forward, he pulled her behind him. Her boots crunched over the glass that had fallen from their window.
Cat shifters were supposed to be pretty freaking awesome at landing on their feet after jumps like that, but the wolf had shown her just how agile his beast could be.
“Kayla!” Jonah’s scream had her turning back. He was leaning out of the window, and he’d jerked off his ski mask. His face was white. His eyes wild.
“I’m okay!” She yelled back to him. “I’m—”
Gage grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. Really, that was too much. No, the jump through the window had been too much. In a minute, she was gonna get pissed.
But she didn’t have a minute. Before she could do more than pound her fist into Gage’s back—hard, leaving lots of bruises—he tossed her inside an SUV.
Kayla could have jumped out. When he ran around to the driver’s side, she could have leapt for safety. If she’d wanted safety. But . . .
But she didn’t move.
And, technically, she could have gotten away from the guy when he tossed her over his shoulder. Her body was a lethal weapon, after all. Not much could subdue her.
But she hadn’t fought back too hard then.
She wasn’t fighting now, either.
Gage jumped behind the driver’s seat. He bent low and hot-wired the ride. Sneaky and impressive. She liked a man with skills. Then he gunned the engine as he shot that SUV out of the parking lot fast enough to make her head whip back.
They’d be pursued, she knew that. Lyle wouldn’t just let them vanish into the night.
No way would he do that. The real hunt . . . well, it was only getting started.
CHAPTER THREE
Gage was good at losing any tails who thought they were dumb enough to be able to track him.
This wasn���t his first life-or-death ball game. Not even close. So he raced through the city, cutting down streets, twisting the SUV through tight alleys, and taking all the shortcuts that most wouldn’t know about in Vegas.
He switched vehicles at a run-down gas station. When they ditched the SUV for a pickup, Kayla didn’t even try to run from him. Huh. She wasn’t talking, but she wasn’t running either. Was that a good sign?
He wasn’t sure quite what to make of it. Or her.
So he just kept heading toward the desert. Dust trailed behind them, and in his rearview mirror, he saw nothing but an open road.
No tail. No more hunters.
It looked as if they’d gotten away clean. For the moment.
Gage exhaled slowly and some of the battle-ready tension started to ease from him. The beast who’d wanted to claw his way to freedom stopped fighting the leash Gage had wrapped around
the wolf ’s neck.
“You’re not just gonna . . . dump me in the desert, are you?” Ah, his wife finally spoke. Pity her words just pissed him off.
Is that who she thinks I am? What I am? A killer. His hands clenched around the wheel. “I’ve got other plans for you.”
She took that in silence and the anger churned higher in him. He wanted Kayla to strike back at him. To yell. To explode. But she didn’t.
Kayla just sat there, looking too sexy and fuckable, with her hair mussed and her head turned away as she glanced out at the blurring terrain. Her profile gave no hint of her emotions, but she had to be feeling something. He was about to rip apart inside.
Stick to the plan. Stick. To. It.
He’d known all along that she had secrets. The fact that was she was a hunter—
“I let you escape.”
He laughed at her confession. Such bullshit. Did she even see it? “Sweetheart, I let myself escape.” That was why he’d booked a room on the third floor. That kind of jump was nothing to him. Always have an exit strategy—that was his motto.
Always.
He jerked the wheel to the right and barreled down the thin strip of road that most folks would never even notice, not the way it was nestled behind an old, run-down highway billboard.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Kayla stiffen. “Where are we going?” Now there was suspicion in her tone.
Because she realized that he wasn’t just blindly fleeing the city, scared of the big, old tough hunters.
Fuck that. No, fuck them. He’d never been afraid of hunters, and he wouldn’t start now. He’d left Vegas for a reason.
In less time than it took to shift, he could have taken out every man in that hotel room. He hadn’t, though, because that wouldn’t have been part of his plan—and he did have a plan.
So now it was his turn to play the silent game. But the game didn’t last long. All too soon, they were pulling up next to the small, wooden cabin that lay nestled in the middle of freaking nowhere.
Before he’d even parked, two men strode toward them. One was tall, fair, with light hair. The other, darker, leaner, shadowed the blond’s movements. Neither man looked particularly happy.
What else was new?