Fuck that. The guy would have to sit in the box section of the rig. Strapped to the gurney.
“No shit.” Her voice lowered, and she turned away, as if she didn’t want Con to hear. “Where are you?”
“The den. Waiting for you.”
Okay, strapped to the gurney and dead. Con gnashed his teeth, annoyed at his own reaction. There was no reason to be jealous, no matter how sleazy this Lycus idiot sounded.
“Who all is after me?”
There was a pause, and then a low purr rumbled over the airwaves. “Come back to the den, Sin. Swear to mate me, and I’ll make sure they’re called off.”
Son of a—Con bit back a curse as his entire body jerked, and the ambulance with it. Horns honked as he whipped the rig back into the right lane, ignoring Sin’s glare. He didn’t give a shit what Sin did, who she “mated” with, or what she did with her assassin business. But this Lycus fucker was blackmailing her, and that just pissed him off. The sudden image of her naked, beneath a well-muscled body didn’t bother him at all. At. All.
Sin flushed with anger, and Con waited for her to tell the bastard off with her usual sharp tongue. So he nearly fell over when she said tiredly, “I said no.”
Con could practically hear the smile in the male’s voice. “You’re weakening, succubus. Don’t take too long to roll over.”
Very slowly, Sin mashed the End button, still looking at the BlackBerry’s screen. “Asshole,” she muttered.
Con realized he was gripping the steering wheel hard enough to put a bend in it, and forced himself to ease up. “How many more of your assassins might be after you?”
Her fingers formed fists in her lap, and she turned to fix him with a penetrating stare. “All of them,” she said. “They have all turned on me.”
Luc had been alternately peering through his two tiny windows, keeping an eye out for potential trouble, when he heard Kar’s fragile voice rise up from the basement.
He took the steps to the room below and found her lying on the pallet where he’d left her, though she’d rolled to her uninjured side and was staring at the chains secured to his log and stone wall.
“Where… where am I?” she rasped, her Texan accent barely discernible through her pain.
He crouched next to her. “You’re in my moon room.” Not that he used the thing anymore. He no longer cared what he did on nights of the full moon. He refused to chain himself up, preferring to run free. Eventually The Aegis would kill him, or maybe a hunter, or, most likely, Wraith. The demon had sworn to take Luc out when the last of his humanity left him, and really, that had happened when Ula died. “What do you remember?”
Kar shifted, wincing when she tried to move her arm. “Being chased by The Aegis.”
“They obviously learned the truth about you.”
Firelight flickered on her face, the light and shadow making her expression hard to read, but there was a note of amusement in her voice. “Guess you can’t blackmail me anymore.”
He nearly smiled at that. They’d been holed up in an Aegis stronghold in Alexandria, Egypt, while they waited for the apocalyptic battle between good and evil to start, and in this particular conflict, Luc, the Sem brothers, and a lot of other demons had been there to fight for Team Good and Annoyingly Righteous. They’d actually been working with The Aegis in a fragile truce that had been laden with tension and distrust.
Kar had been there as a Guardian, all holier-than-thou, and then she’d sensed the werewolf in him.
And he’d sensed it in her.
Already revved up for the pending war, his sex drive had roared to life. And he wasn’t the nicest guy in the world, so he’d made her a deal. Ten minutes naked, and he’d keep her secret.
She’d bitched and growled, but after Team Good had claimed victory in Jerusalem, she’d given him half an hour. His body hardened even now, just thinking about how he’d taken her three times in that thirty minutes. Up against the side of the building. On the ground, missionary style. On their knees, him giving it to her from behind. All couplings had been rough and raw, the way wargs did it, especially after a hardcore battle. He’d come away sore and scratched, and more sated than he’d been in a long time.
“I’m sure I can find something to blackmail you about,” he said, as he settled his palm over her forehead to gauge her temperature. “You have a fever.” He slid his fingers down to her throat. “And your pulse is too fast. I’m going to get some ice and meds.”
Her good hand shot out to capture his wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. “No drugs.”
“We’ve got to get your fever down.”
She licked her lips, closed her eyes, but she didn’t release him. “Okay, but nothing that will hurt the baby.”
He stared at her. “You’re pregnant?”
“Yes.”
She must have gone into a breeding heat just days after he’d been with her. Thank God he hadn’t sensed it coming on. He’d have been compelled to stay and fight any other males who showed up to claim her. The winner would have mated with her over the three days and nights of the full moon, both in human and beast form, and if she became pregnant during that time, their bond would be permanent.
“Where’s your mate?”
“Dead.” Her eyes were still closed, and he wished she’d open them so he could get a read on her.
“Did The Aegis kill him?”
“Yeah.”
“Was he born or turned?”
“Turned,” she said softly.
A chill bit all the way to his marrow. “The cub could be born human.”
She finally opened her eyes. “I’m aware of that.”
“Will you kill it?” Born warg laws were harsh in regard to human infants; they were to be destroyed at birth. Though Luc had heard of a few mothers who had left the babies at human hospitals or fire stations so the children could be adopted.
She hesitated, and for a moment, he thought she’d say yes. But then her eyes flashed, the steely glint in them hinting at what kind of mother she’d be. Fierce. Loving. “I will protect my baby with my life. That’s why I’m here. The virus…”
“What about it?”
“I’m scared. You know what’s going on—you have an inside track—”
He snorted. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m holed up in the middle of nowhere. But I do know that it affects only turned wargs, so you’re safe.” For some reason, she didn’t appear to be relieved, but then, she was as ill with her injuries and silver poisoning as she would be with SF. He palmed her forehead again, knowing damned good and well that the fever wouldn’t have eased. “So that’s why you’re here? The only reason?”
She shifted her gaze to the fireplace, stared into it blankly. “I didn’t have any place else to go once The Aegis found out about my secret.”
“You shouldn’t have come here.” It was an asshole thing to say, but then, he was an asshole. Since the day he was attacked by a werewolf, he’d been all about taking care of himself and not giving a crap about anyone else.
“Clearly, it was a mistake.” Her voice was so soft it was nearly drowned out by the crackle of the fire.
“Yeah, it was.” He stood, tossed another log on the fire with a little more force than was needed, and sparks flew up, snapping angrily. “The last thing I need is to take care of a breeding female who has slayers on her tail. How’d they find out what you are anyway?” When she didn’t answer, he turned around. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even. She was out again.
And he was in one hell of a mess.
Seven
They rode in silence for a good thirty minutes. Sin was grateful for the quiet at first, until her thoughts started swirling around and she realized how much trouble she was truly in. Lycus, that slimy, double-crossing dickwad. She’d known she couldn’t trust him, but she’d hoped he’d use some of his considerable influence to keep most of her assassins off her back—without her swearing to become his mate.
And he was wrong; she wasn’t weakening. As n
ice as it would be to share the burdens of being an assassin master, she couldn’t bond herself to anyone, especially not a pisshead like Lycus.
Dammit. Between her own assassins wanting her head on a platter and the Carceris wanting her strung up in a cell, she was starting to feel like a deer during hunting season. So when her cell phone began to ring incessantly—calls and texts from Lore, Eidolon, Shade, and even one from Wraith—her last nerve frayed like the end of a snapped rope and she turned the phone off.
“They’re worried about you.” Con slid a glance at the BlackBerry. “You should answer.”
“I don’t need their concern.”
His reply was sharp. “Selfish much?”
Okay, yeah, she was selfish. Since the day she and Lore had gone through the transition that had given them tattoos, uncontrollable sexual needs, and killing abilities, she’d been forced to leave the human world behind. Which meant leaving softness, compassion, and love in a place where it wouldn’t hurt her. The world she’d been whisked into by a demon slave trader just days after Lore abandoned her had toughened her up, real fast.
She’d spent a century with demons who breathed cruelty like air, and the buildup of scar tissue, both physical and emotional, had been the only reason she’d survived. Then, thirty years ago, she’d found Lore, and his devotion had chipped away, just a little, at her shield. And now, her reason for not responding to her brothers wasn’t because she didn’t need their concern—though she didn’t. It was because no matter how much she hated it, she found herself worrying about Wraith and Eidolon’s punishment for helping her.
But she wasn’t going to tell Con that. Voicing it made it real and invited pity and useless phrases like “I’m sorry.” And “It’ll be okay.”
Goose bumps prickled her skin. Her grandma, who had raised Sin and Lore from the day they were born, used to say that a lot. “It’ll be okay, Sinead. Your mama loves you. She’s troubled, that’s all.” And “It’ll be okay. People can be cruel, but you’ll always have me.”
Grandma had lied. Mama hadn’t loved her, Sin hadn’t always had Grandma, and it had definitely not been okay.
The ambulance’s radio squawked, and Eidolon’s strained voice pierced the silence. “Con. Pick up.”
Con punched a button on the dash. “E. We’re safe.”
“Thank gods.” Eidolon’s relief transmitted over the airwaves. “Don’t tell me where you’re going. This frequency might be monitored. Sin, stay away from every place you’ve ever been.”
“Yeah. Will do.” An unfamiliar flare of guilt sparked in her belly, and she cleared her throat. “Hey, uh… are you and Wraith… I mean… did you—”
“Don’t worry about us,” Eidolon said. “Just get where you’re going and we’ll talk later.” He disconnected, leaving Sin and Con in tense silence again.
For another long-ass hour. She spent the time gazing out the window at the passing cars, wishing she could be in one of them, behind the wheel and driving to a destiny of her choosing instead of being chauffeured to one she didn’t want by an arrogant dhampire.
An arrogant dhampire whose long, muscular legs flexed as he worked the gas and brake pedals. Whose thick biceps rolled and bunched as he steered. Broad shoulders filled the driver’s space, and images of her hands clinging to them as he pumped between her thighs filled her head. She was so acutely aware of him, so hypersensitive to his heat, his scent, even the sound of his breathing, that no matter how many times she averted her gaze back to the outside world, she found her eyes drifting back to him. Felt her body leaning toward him.
He was such a pain in the ass.
Finally, as the suburbs turned into pastures and farmland, Con pulled the ambulance off the main road and onto a gravel one lined by rows of trees.
“I’m guessing you don’t drive to work very often,” she mused.
“There’s a Harrowgate less than a quarter mile away in the woods, so no, I don’t drive often. A two-hour commute would be a killer.”
The ambulance crunched over gravel for maybe half a mile before Con pulled into the driveway of an old but well-kept ranch-style house set against a hill and cut deeply into a forest that appeared to have been cultivated for privacy. She got out and did a sweep of the perimeter while he moved his black GTO out of the garage to make room for the ambulance. He also had a motorcycle, a snowmobile, and an ATV. The guy liked his toys with engines.
Con eased the ambulance inside—the big rig barely fit, and she thought she heard the scrape of metal at some point. Shade was going to pop his cork at the scratches the vehicle had gotten today.
“Nice ride,” she said, as she trailed a finger along the GTO’s sleek fender. The thing still had dealer plates on it.
Con shrugged. “It’ll do until next year.”
“Next year?”
“I get a new one every spring.”
She peeked through the tinted glass at the leather interior. “Like the new-car smell, huh?”
“Nah,” he said, as he punched the garage door button. “I get tired of driving the same thing over and over.”
“Maybe you should get a plane,” she muttered, and he nodded as if she’d been serious.
“I’m working on it. I already have my pilot’s license.”
Of course he did.
Once the garage door had rolled down, he disarmed the security system and led her into the house, which was a true bachelor pad. The furniture was old but well-kept. There were clothes draped over the chairs and couch, and she wondered if the windows had ever been cleaned. It looked like Lore’s place, only newer. And bigger. Definitely more personal.
His shelves and walls were loaded with stuff that appeared to be ancient—pottery, framed sketches of stone cathedrals, weapons. She drifted toward one magnificent piece, a longbow hanging between a halberd and a Japanese katana.
“Impressive.” She trailed a finger over the smooth yew surface. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a house kind of person, though.”
“Where did you think I’d live?” he asked, amusement in his voice. “A tent?”
Shrugging, she turned back to him. “Most single guys are apartment dwellers. And most single wargs live a little more rustically.”
It was his turn to shrug. “Born wargs prefer the outdoors and wilderness, but a lot of turned wargs are human enough to like living with other humans.”
“Until they realize that humans are food and that chaining yourself up in an apartment gets noisy.”
“True.” He tossed the ambulance keys onto the dining room table.
“What about dhampires? You’re sort of born that way… and then turned.”
His hands went to his shirt buttons as he pinned her with a cool, remote gaze. Man, she wished she could read him better. “What’s your point?”
There was a strange avoidance vibe in his answer, but she couldn’t determine what, exactly, he was skirting. “Where do you fall on the warg scale? What do you do? About the full moon, I mean.”
He peeled out of his paramedic shirt, and her tongue nearly rolled out of her mouth at the sight of his sharply defined muscles and honed, hard flesh. She was used to males who kept themselves in top form—no assassin let himself go flabby—but Con had a lean, powerful runner’s body, the kind that was used well and often. He was made for marathons.
I spend hours on foreplay.
Oh, yeah. Marathons.
“I sure as hell don’t chain myself.” He tossed the shirt over the back of a chair. “I go home. To where I was born.”
She had to force her eyes away from his chest to meet his. “Where’s that?”
“Scotland. It’s where dhampires originated. The Dearghuls—the only clan that’s left—have a sanctuary there. Acres of property where we can hunt during the moon fever.”
Eyes level… eyes level… “How many of you are there?”
“Our numbers are pathetically few. So few that during the mating season, all unmated males and females must participate.”
/>
Sin bit her cheek to keep from moaning at the “mating” word. “So you don’t mate like other wargs? I mean, getting a female pregnant during her heat doesn’t bind you to her forever?”
“No,” he said huskily, and she wondered if the subject had affected him the way it had her. “In fact, the males very rarely take permanent mates.”
His skin was so tan. “Why not?”
“Because we tend to kill the females.”
Ah, well, okay. That wasn’t cool.
She wandered around the living room and down the hall to check out the bedrooms. Yep, she was a Nosy Nellie, but Con didn’t seem to mind. “What do you do with all this space? You have parties and stuff?”
He looked up from checking the answering machine. “Nope. A lot of my friends are human. They’d ask too many questions.”
“Human? You’re tight with humans?”
“Not recently.” He moved to the window and yanked the curtains closed. “Just had to let go of my last group of buds. When they start mentioning how you never get older, it’s time to take a “permanent job” in some remote place with no communications. Right now, I’m studying nematodes in Antarctica.”
“Well, aren’t you a dork.” But seriously… how odd that he hung with humans. He seemed like an underworld-purist kind of guy.
His cell phone rang, and he dug it out of the lower side leg pocket of his BDU pants. “E. Yeah. You’re where?”
Con hung up, strode to the front door, and standing there, still in his scrubs, was Eidolon. Shade was next to him, clad from boot to neck in black leather, from his biker boots to his jacket, sunglasses hiding his dark eyes. He looked like the freaking Terminator.
“How’d you know where we were?” Sin asked.
“I’m a good guesser,” Eidolon said as he and Shade stepped inside. He tossed a duffel bag at Sin. “Clothes. Figured you might need them after getting nailed by the dart.”
Con closed the door, but not before scanning the area outside. “Is Runa doing better?”
“Not good enough.” Shade tucked his sunglasses into his pocket. “She made me leave. Said I was driving her crazy. Besides, I needed to do some grocery shopping.”