“Fine,” she said tightly.
“Fine?” Killian repeated, his gaze finding hers once again. “The fight is over already?”
She ignored him and looked at Raphael. “I’ll guard him.”
Raphael practically snorted. “I don’t think so.”
Her lip curled. She had a very sexy mouth. “You need someone on him.”
“I have two someones right here,” Raphael said, pointing behind him to the male guards.
“They’re Suits,” she said, as if that explained everything. “You need a Hunter on this. Why not me?”
Raphael exhaled. “Honestly, I don’t think you’re stable enough.”
Her expression went tight and she lifted her chin an inch. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll kill him.” The words were simple. Honest. Obvious. And Raphael didn’t allow her to counter. “He has information we need. That I need.”
She sniffed, disgusted. “Don’t they all.”
The leader of the Pantera didn’t answer. His eyes were strangely kind as he stared at her. Killian wondered if the latitude he was giving her was due to that mysterious something that she’d been through.
Her shoulders drooped. “Don’t you get it?” she continued, her tone softer now. “The humans, they don’t give a shit about us, Raph. Or about sharing anything with us. They only want to destroy us. You keep letting them in here. Giving them chances. Working with them. When are you going to make them pay?”
“Your anger is understandable, Rosalie, but—”
“Don’t give me any of that shit.” She didn’t say it with any amount of menace. But Raphael wasn’t about to let her defiance slide this time.
“Watch yourself, Hunter.” His eyes had darkened. “I believed that when you came to me about forgiving Hiss you’d let go of—”
“Hiss is Pantera,” Rosalie cut in.
Killian sat up even taller. Who was this…Hiss?
“He showed me that when we broke into the lab.” Her eyes swept over Killian. “I have no forgiveness for anything human.”
Jaw tight, Raphael nodded. “Then go. And leave this one to me.”
“No,” Killian broke in.
They both turned to stare at him. “What?” Raphael asked.
“I want her.” The words slid from his tongue like honey. Slow and easy. His eyes locked with Rosalie’s. “If you insist on someone shadowing me, guarding me while I’m here, then I want her.”
The leader cursed, low and black. “I can’t allow it. She wants your blood.”
Killian laughed. “I’m sure she’s not the only one. At least she’s honest about it. I know where she stands.”
Green eyes flickered with heat, but if it was sexual interest or the possibility of getting him alone and removing his heart with her puma’s teeth, he couldn’t tell.
“It’s settled, then,” she said, her lips curving into a smile.
“Nothing is settled until I say it is,” Raphael returned tightly. “Rosalie, if this man ends up dead, you will not be able to remain in the Wildlands. Do you understand me?”
She gasped and turned to look at the leader of her kind.
“Do you want to take that risk?” he asked.
Her jaw tightened, but she nodded.
“I need your word, Hunter,” he pushed.
“He will not die, Raphael. I give you my word.” But he might feel some pain, her eyes said.
Killian could handle pain. He might even enjoy it if it was coming from her.
“And,” Raphael said just as she was turning Killian’s way, “no puma.”
She whirled back to face him, eyes wide, nostrils flared.
“When you’re around him, the cat is caged.”
Her face reddened. “Why?”
“You know why,” he stated pointedly, piquing Killian’s curiosity. What was this about? So much mystery surrounding the beautiful and terrifying Rosalie. “Now, take him over to the garden house.”
“That’s very near your home,” she said, looking confused. “Why not one of the secure units?”
“Take him, Hunter.”
She growled softly. “Fine. Follow me, Human.”
With a nod at the leader of the Pantera, Killian grabbed his now-dry shirt and pushed off the bed. As Rosalie walked out the door, her strides confident, her ass swinging from side to side, a thought slammed into his mind before he could stop it. Follow you? Anywhere, Kitten. Any-fucking-where.
Chapter 3
She’d been to the garden house only once. It was about an acre away from Raphael and his mate Ashe’s two-story antebellum, and overrun with vines and flowers and late tomatoes climbing up the porch railings. The last resident had been an older female who’d kept mostly to herself and had loved everything green and growing, so the exterior of the small two-bedroom cottage appeared to be constructed almost entirely of moss and spotted bee balm. Under the cover of night, the scent of all the living things was intoxicating.
But Rosalie only scented human.
“Are you really going to stand outside the house all night?”
Her back to the front door, Rosalie stared straight ahead, across the long expanse of moonlit yard. The human male had been trying to engage her since they’d arrived an hour ago, this time coming to the open window to speak to her.
“You’ve gotta be hungry,” he added.
She said nothing. Just as she’d said nothing when Raphael, Genevieve, and Lian had brought over food and supplies. While the leader of the Pantera spoke with Killian, the Suit female and the Hunter had tried like hell to not only discuss the human, but get her to relinquish her post as his guard. Lian had even offered to take her place. Said any of the Hunters would. But she’d refused them with a shake of the head.
They thought she’d break. Would give in to her puma’s desire for human blood and get sent away from the Wildlands for it. She understood their worry, and she appreciated their care. But no one “handled” Rosalie except Rosalie.
“There’s a great spread in here,” the human called.
She rolled her eyes. Forget the human part—this man was going to irritate her into killing him. “No thanks,” she ground out. “Unless you’re offering me your blood.”
“And if I am…?”
“Then you’ll be dead before dessert.”
“You know you just smiled when you said that, right?”
Her lips twitched. Again. “I don’t doubt it.”
He released a breath. “Come on. Eat with me.”
“No.”
“Rosalie—”
Her head came around fast and she hissed at him. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that.”
He wasn’t at all put out by her ferocity. “What should I call you, then?” His thick, dark eyebrows lifted. “Hunter? Mistress?” He grinned. “Kitten?”
Oh, the puma wanted out so badly… “Listen, Human. I’m not coming in there and eating with you. Period. End of discussion.”
“All right.” He shrugged, then left the window, disappeared inside the house.
Finally. She heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t like being around him. Not just because he was human, one of them. But because, unfortunately, she found him attractive. She shook her head. Very attractive. Like when he spoke, she watched the way his lips moved.
Goddess, she didn’t deserve to breathe. For the fifth time since leaving Medical, she asked herself why she was doing this. Guarding the human. Why she’d insisted on it. Especially after Raphael had made her swear she wouldn’t hurt him. Well, kill him is what she’d actually promised. But one would surely lead swiftly to the other, wouldn’t it?
Why hadn’t she walked away right when the leader had announced the human was staying? She should be patrolling the border, looking for more of them. Groups of them. Enemies of the Pantera.
The screen door pressed against her back then, and instantly she whirled around, her puma ready to spring. Down girl. You’re not getting me
kicked out of my home. Not today.
“Making a break for it, Human?” she snarled as the door opened and Killian emerged.
“For the porch, absolutely,” he returned, moving past her with a snort.
She watched him as he headed for the faded floral loveseat with the small table in front of it and proceeded to set up dinner. A dinner for two. He was wearing the new clothes Lian had brought over: a pair of jeans and a blue Guns N’ Roses T-shirt. Granted, this man was no Pantera male, but he surely equaled one in size. From his height, to the bulging biceps, to the way the shirt clung to hard abs and how tight his ass looked in that denim.
Her lip curled with disgust. But at the same time her belly warmed. No. Just…no. “You’re not allowed to leave the residence, Human.”
“I don’t know how you divvy property here in your Wildlands, but where I come from this is still the residence.”
“Where you come from.” She sniffed. “They have porches attached to Locke’s laboratories now, do they?”
“Who’s Locke?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please.”
He didn’t say anything for a second. He was pouring lemonade into glasses. But when he took a seat, he said, “Iowa.”
“What?”
He turned to look at her, those blue eyes annoyingly friendly. “I’m from Iowa. Originally. Farming family. Mostly soybeans.”
She stared at him. She didn’t want to know this. Any of this. Personal information. It made one weak and vulnerable to attack. She would never be weak again. Her stomach growled.
“Oh come on,” he said. “Your body’s in a state of revolt. This fried chicken’s delicious. And it’ll tide you over until something more human comes along.”
She sneered at him. “The only human I’m interested in eating is you.”
Rosalie didn’t realize how that sounded until the man’s mouth curved up into one of the sexiest smiles she’d ever seen. Then she wanted to just curl up in a ball and roll right off the porch.
But of course she didn’t. She lifted her chin and said arrogantly, “You know what I mean.”
His blue eyes flashed. “You’re scared to get too close to me.” He nodded. “Understandable.”
“No. That’s not it. At all.”
“You sure?” He smiled, then started making soft clucking sounds.
She shook her head and heaved a sigh. “You’re super annoying.”
Didn’t stop him from continuing on.
“Also, that’s really inappropriate when you’re actually eating the chicken.”
His grin only widened as he clucked.
“Oh, fine!” she heaved, walking over and grabbing a chicken leg off the table. “I’ll eat if you stop.”
He did, then patted the seat beside him. “Come on, Hunter. I won’t bite.”
“Of course you won’t,” she said, tearing into the chicken as she remained standing. She was starving. Hadn’t realized how starving until right that moment. “You’re a weak-blooded human.”
He tossed her the side-eye. “Who had you bound and on your back in under a minute.”
She glared at him.
He grinned. Again. “Can I ask you something, Kitten?”
“‘Hunter’ is fine.”
He pouted for one quick second, then said, “I understand the dislike of humans now that your world has been outed, and they’re filled with curiosity and fear. I understand the distrust. But your hate runs deep. Blood deep. Why?”
Her insides clenched. “Hand me that lemonade.”
He did, but didn’t let up on the questions. “Raphael alluded to something…something you’re going through.”
Rosalie reached for a biscuit, though her stomach was in knots. “You’re right. This food is good.”
He sniffed. “Okay. Got it. None of my business.”
Damn right it wasn’t. But not only that, she refused to go personal with this human. It was the first rule of guarding a prisoner, which he pretty much was. You don’t ask or answer anything that could make you vulnerable.
But as she finished off her biscuit, she broke that rule. “So, you grew up on a farm?”
“Yup,” he said, taking a bite of an apple. “Loved it. Open air, miles and miles of land. It was simple.”
“Sounds pretty perfect.”
He nodded. “Was.”
“So why did you leave?” And head for Locke’s lab? Glory? Money?
“My parents passed away in an accident my senior year of high school. After I graduated, I just didn’t want to stay, you know? They were the only family I had, and it was lonely...”
Her heart squeezed a bit. Loss was really something they shared. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “I sold the place to a nice family. Then, I joined the army.”
Rosalie’s head came around so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. All softness and understanding gone, she stared at him. His jaw was tight, like he knew what he’d just said would be controversial.
Controversial? Try outrageous!
“You’re a solider?” she ground out, her appetite now gone. There it was. She’d only been guessing that he might be from one of Locke’s labs, but this… “Does Raphael know?”
“Yes.”
Shit. That’s why the leader had wanted this man to stay. Needed all the information. “Why did you come here? What do you want from Raphael? From us?”
He turned to look at her. His eyes were shuttered now. Back to the shark who was giving nothing away. “That’s between Raphael and myself. For now. If he wants someone to know, he’ll tell them.”
Someone? “I’m not just someone.” She stood up. “You’re part of them,” she snarled. “Those bastards. Fuck you!” Goddess, her cat was pushing to get out. And she wanted to let it. Let the puma handle this. Let the puma handle everything. “We’re not helping you people create some hybrid monster for your battlefields.”
His eyes flashed with anger and his lips parted to retort. But before a word was uttered, he took stock in her demeanor. Her barely controlled demeanor. He was off the loveseat and at her side in an instant. “Are you all right?”
Fuck, she was shaking. Like a scared cub. Couldn’t stop herself. But she refused his touch. “Get away from me.”
“You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“No, Human,” she snarled at him. “I look like my puma is trying to get out and tear you to shreds.”
She expected him to step away. Hell, he should be running into the house and locking the door, if he was smart. But instead he courted death and did the most insane thing ever. He pulled her into his arms.
Rosalie stiffened, growled, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, pulling her even closer.
“Only if you have that rope again.” Something strange was happening. Her puma was suddenly nowhere to be found, and the female part of her was…breathless…
He laughed softly, his hand moving in slow circles on her back. “I’m not trying to contain you, Hunter. Just give you a bit of comfort.”
“I don’t need comfort,” she uttered, her tone strangled.
“I think you do.”
She cursed through her uneven breathing. “You are so…human.”
“Damn right I am.” He made a low sound in his throat, and the rumble went from his chest into hers. It was… Goddess, it was—
No! No, this was wrong. Why wasn’t she pulling away? Biting his shoulder? Taking off his ear? Desperate for blood? Why were her nostrils flaring? And why were her lungs pulling in his scent as though they couldn’t bear to have anything else inside them?
The human was the first to pull back, release her. But he didn’t look happy about it. In fact, he looked confused and troubled. Join the club.
His expression tight, he stared down at her. “Is the cat okay?”
Okay? Goddess, nothing was okay. About this. About him. About her. And where was her cat? Her protection? The one thing that was al
ways there to stomp out feelings and emotions and…attraction?
Rosalie gazed up into those deep blue eyes. Okay? The cat was more than okay. It was…quiet.
With a surge of deep fear and guilt, she pulled completely away from him and stalked over to the door. Held it open. “Time for bed, Human.”
One dark brow lifted over those ever-changing eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, after a few seconds, he went and gathered up all the food, then walked past her into the house.
“’Night, Hunter,” he said in a pensive tone that mirrored the feelings running through her.
After the door closed, she pressed back against it and tried to breathe normally again. But it was no use. Her throat felt tight now, scratchy. Her lungs didn’t seem to be making enough air. What was wrong with her? Why had she allowed herself to be touched…hugged? And why did she want to call that human back again right this very minute and tell him to call her…Rosalie?
Chapter 4
“Stay away!” Tim Donohue shouted, barely visible in the rubble. “Fuck, O’Roarke!”
Exhausted, eyes burning, Killian dragged an unconscious Mac Fields another three feet out of the wrecked building, then left him with the others. One more. Just one more.
“Stop!” Tim screamed at him. “Another one’s coming, man!”
Killian didn’t listen. You don’t leave a comrade. Never leave a comrade. Not even with the threat of an IED.
Something nicked his arm. Fuck! The sting. He’d been hit. Suddenly, rounds of gunfire broke out less than forty meters away. No cover. Shit!
His men. He had to get to his men.
He had to hunt. Hunt the enemy!
But Tim…
An incoming round zoomed past his head. Eyes right and left. Nowhere to take cover. No-fucking-where!
“You gotta do this for me, man,” Tim yelled. “Tell my wife I love—”
The blast of the IED sent Killian flying back. He hit the ground hard, air stolen from his lungs, blood leaking from his arm. When he looked up, Tim’s head was down.
And he was silent.
A gasp woke Killian. Not his own. Or was it? Eyes open, he realized where he was and who he was on top of. Shaking, sweat coating his skin, he rolled off her instantly. “Shit, I’m sorry.”