An intense wave of shrieking pain lanced into her brain. Images of death and disease flared alive, dancing with the physical agony. She cried out and clapped a hand over her forehead. The pain intensified, and her ears grew numb.
Talen groaned. “Fucking demon mind attack.”
A missile hit their chopper, sending it spinning through the smoky air. A burn lanced along her arm. They spun around and around, and a high-pitched squeal erupted from the engine. Smoke billowed past the window.
“Everyone jump. Now!” Dage bellowed.
Talen turned to grab Janie’s arm just as the air snapped around them.
A heavy body landed hard in front of Janie and rocked the entire vehicle.
She gasped. “Zane?” In the helicopter out of nowhere? “How?” she breathed.
He lifted his head, a grim smile tilting his lips while he crouched in front of her. Instantly, a healing balm slid around her brain, banishing the images and agony from the demon mind attack.
Talen swiveled from the open doorway, gun out.
Zane grabbed her arms. “Hold on.”
Dage turned and fired at Zane. Zane hissed in pain, his body shuddering.
Janie reached for him, panic fuzzing the day. She had a moment to feel the hard warmth of his palms around her biceps before the world spun away. No sight, no sounds . . . nothing.
Chapter 7
Liquid fire rippled through Zane’s blood as he teleported through dimensions. He kept a tight hold on Janie, and within seconds, they landed on frozen ground. Ice shards slipped up the back of his shirt. He tucked himself around her fragile body as they rolled across rocks.
Sharp points ripped into his damaged shoulder, but he kept Janie off the jagged rock edges.
Finally, they slammed into a massive pine tree and sent snow spraying.
Zane lay on the ground with Janie on top of him, his wound bellowing, his heart racing. “Belle?” he asked.
She slowly lifted her head. Wide blue eyes focused on him. Shock, fear, bewilderment, all raced across her expressive face in seconds. Her pink mouth opened and closed.
“Are you all right?” he asked, sliding his hands down her arms. She smelled like fresh peaches, sweet and wild. Even through their clothing, he could feel her heat. Her toned body fit against him perfectly, her softness a comforting contrast to his hard angles. He’d wanted her for so damn long. “Belle?” he asked again.
That quickly, fury darkened those spectacular eyes. “No!” she exploded, lifting her head and dropping her forehead sharply on his nose.
Agony zipped through his face, and his eyes watered.
She scrambled off him, kicking snow and debris.
“Wait—” He reached for her, only to receive a boot planted hard in his gut. “Oof.” He leaned up toward his stomach to sit, grabbing his nose. “Jesus, Belle. You broke my nose.”
She slid in the snow, trying to find purchase with the large parachute still on her back. Her anger vibrated on the wind. So when she shifted her stance to kick him again, this time he was ready.
He caught her small boot in one hand right before it connected with his ear. She hopped on her other foot to keep her balance.
“No more kicking.” He gently placed her foot on the ground and stood to maneuver into her space, forcing her to lift her head to keep eye contact. “Get your bearings. Teleporting takes a few minutes to get used to.” Although the woman had launched into fight mode in an impressively short amount of time.
“Where the hell are we?” She shrugged out of the yellow chute and dropped it on the ground.
He cleared his throat and mentally popped his nose back into alignment. “Alaska wilderness . . . weeks away from any civilization.”
Red spiraled across her classic cheekbones. “Take. Me. Back.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Into the war zone? Hell no. This rescue took me all night to arrange.” The tone came out more irritated than he would’ve liked, but right now, his nose hurt, his gut hurt, and he was bleeding from a bullet wound inflicted by the King of the Realm. Plus, Nick had helped him plan, which would get his friend killed if Suri found out.
Janie gasped and reached into her waistband, only to frown.
“Weapons don’t teleport.” Thank God. Zane didn’t want to deal with another wound. His nose repaired, he sent healing cells to the shoulder injury.
Janie glanced around at the forest of snow-covered trees. “So you can teleport.” Anger rode every consonant. “That’s a rare talent.”
He shrugged. “About twenty percent of demons can teleport.”
Janie stepped away from him. “My uncle Dage is the only vampire I know who can do so.” Hurt slid across her face. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you had the gift?”
He didn’t like the sudden blue tinge to her lips. “The less you ever knew about me, the safer we both were.” Sad, but true. He gestured toward a trail between two trees. “The cabin is that way. I would’ve landed in there, but the bullet wound threw me off.”
She shuffled her feet in the snow. “Are you all right now?”
Her unwilling concern warmed him. “Fine.”
“Good. Then fucking take me back.” She put both hands on her hips, challenge in every line of her human body even as she shivered in the cold.
He did love a good challenge. “No.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Fine.” She glanced up at the cloudy sky and then turned on her heel. The snow came above her knees, but she pushed doggedly down an invisible trail.
“Where are you going?” he called out. She couldn’t be that stubborn, could she?
“Screw you.” The words came back clearly on the breeze.
He grinned. Though he certainly didn’t have time for this, he liked the real Janie showing up. All grit, all woman—no fake smiles or smart-aleck reassurances. “Get your ass back here.”
Her snort reached his ears.
As did a shiver rumbling through her body.
A human wouldn’t survive very long in the cold, and Janie wasn’t even wearing a jacket. He sighed and reached her in several long strides through the light powder, trying mentally to close his bullet hole. “We need to get you to warmth.”
She ignored him, her chin on her chest as she battled the wind.
Admiration welled through him along with aggravation. “Janie, we really don’t have time for this.”
She whirled around, eyes flashing. “We don’t?” Her now blue lips pursed. “Do you have a plan?”
“Yes.” He gently grasped her arm. “The plan is to get you to the warm cabin and then go take care of business.”
She blinked. Several snowflakes landed on her pale skin. “You’re leaving me here?” Her arms swept out toward the wilderness.
“Yes.” Thank God. She understood. He turned to lead her to the cabin.
She jerked back. “Forget it, Fucktard.” She turned and made it several steps before his brain kicked into gear.
“Fucktard?” He barked out a laugh. While that might be funny, his patience was dwindling. Time mattered. He strode through freezing snow again to clasp her arm and turn her around. “Enough of this. You’re minutes from freezing to death.”
Her teeth clenched in a chatter. “Either take me back to help my family, or I’ll walk. Your choice.”
What would it be like to have her loyalty to such a degree? Though he could certainly understand her desire to help, the woman needed to stay safe. They’d been friends their entire lives; surely he could reason with her. “Listen, Janie—”
The kick to his shin shocked the hell out of him.
He’d spent years taming his temper, yet five minutes in her company and he wanted to growl. “That’s it.” In one smooth motion, he ducked his head and tossed her over his shoulder to stride toward the hidden cabin. He clasped a hard arm across the back of her thighs to protect his gut from her swinging boots. “We’re going to have to address your penchant for kicking,” he said conversationally, his good humor restored.
Janie’s furious hiss emerged as warning when she struggled on his shoulder, her fists punching his back.
The woman could seriously squirm, but her weight didn’t even register. They reached the darkened cabin, and he kicked open the door. Several steps inside, he dropped her on the bed.
She shot up, and he planted her back down with a hand against her upper chest.
“Son of a bitch.” She shoved his way again, and he set her back down.
“I feel like I’m playing Whac-A-Mole,” he said with a grin. God, she was cute when furious, but he knew better than to say those words out loud.
He reached his limit the fifth time he sat her down. “Enough.” Dropping to his haunches, he ripped off her boots and socks.
“Hey—” She stood up in bare feet. Adorable, small feet with nails painted a stunning scarlet. Delicate, feminine, and sexy. His heart thumped. Hard.
Sucking up air in an application of string theory, he concentrated and ran through space and time to end up in Seattle, where he threw the boots in a trash can. His temples pounded, and his gut churned in warning. Ignoring the risks, seconds later he returned to the cabin and landed on his feet. Each teleport weakened him, and he needed to knock off the quick jumps.
Janie stood where he’d left her. “Where are my boots?”
“Near the Space Needle.” Even stubborn Janie wouldn’t try to traverse the freezing ground without shoes. Zane ignored his headache and flipped on the lights to reveal the cozy one-room cabin. He had Janie right where he wanted her, and the responsibility sobered him. “The generator is full of gas, but I’ll light you a quick fire.”
A stone fireplace took up one entire wall, while the bed lay opposite it. A small kitchenette made up the other wall. He’d left kindling, wood, and paper in the fireplace the day before and just had to light it now. He made quick work of the materials, and soon the crackle of warmth filled the space. “There’s a bath just off the kitchen.” He stood and pointed.
Janie remained in place, her skin pale. “Did you arrange the attack on my family?”
“No.” Zane dusted off his hands, wanting more than anything for her to believe him. He had to see that trust in her eyes again. It was shocking how much he missed it. “Suri and Kalin reached an agreement yesterday, but Suri decided to double-cross Kalin and kill you. I spent a good portion of the night coming up with a counterattack to get you to safety before a bomb took you out.”
She gasped. “At least Kalin doesn’t want me dead.” She pushed auburn hair out of her face.
Zane sighed. Why did she have to be so damn appealing? All he wanted to do was cuddle up with her by the fire and chat. Flirt. Maybe kiss and forget who he was and what he’d done. Yet instead, he had to go wage a fucking war and probably commit more acts to damage any humanity he still had. “Suri wants you dead, and he had no problem betraying Kalin.”
Janie blinked. “Please take me back. I have to know they’re all okay.” Vulnerability chased fear across her face.
Zane’s chest hurt. “I’m sure they’re okay, Jane. I’ll check on them as soon as I can.”
“Where are you going?” She glanced around the cabin as if looking for a way out.
“To protect my family.” He wanted to touch her, to try to reassure her. How could he make her understand? “If Kalin gets to you, then my family is no longer necessary to Suri. I have to get them to safety.” And keep Janie safe. Nobody knew where she was. “This keeps you out of danger, too.” He needed her to trust him.
“I don’t want to be out of danger.” She shook her head. “I have a job to do, and hiding in the Alaskan wilderness won’t accomplish anything.”
“Just give me some time.” He brushed snow off his hair.
She reached him in two strides. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. We have to go back.”
He slid a knuckle down the side of her face. Silk and cream . . . softer than he could’ve ever imagined. “I’m sorry, Belle.” He closed his eyes and began to teleport, stopping short as pain ricocheted up his spine.
Maybe he should let his system recharge a little bit. If he destroyed his body, he’d be no good to anybody.
She shivered, while her lips remained a pale blue.
“Damn it.” He drew her toward the two chairs fronting the fireplace and gently pushed her into one. “At least warm up while we argue.” Keeping her hand, he settled into the other chair.
“Let’s not argue.” She flipped her hand under his and laced her fingers through his.
He bit back a smile. While she might not recognize the gesture as one of trust, he did, and it warmed him somewhere deep inside that was always cold. “I like that idea.”
She smiled, looking so pretty something hurt in his chest. “Let’s go back and make sure everyone is all right, and then we can go to headquarters and work on a plan with my uncle. We can save your family.”
Fuck, she was naïve. He tried to gentle his voice and not sound like a demon. “I know you think involving your family will help, but doing so will negate my bargaining power with Suri. I have to do this alone.”
Her fine eyebrows arched. “Isn’t that how you do everything? Alone?”
The soft question held a sharp edge. “No. Soldiers follow me, and I have a mother and two brothers.”
Janie began shaking her head before he’d finished speaking. “Do you work with them or around them? Protecting them without sharing what you’re doing?” Her eyes darkened. “What you’ve done?”
Either insightful or psychic, the woman had nailed him. He removed his hand and settled back in his chair. Away from her . . . and the truth. “I do what I have to do.”
She glanced down at her hand and frowned. Taking a deep breath, she pushed off from the chair and landed between his knees, her palms on his thighs. The fire lit her from behind, turning the highlights in her auburn hair into compelling flames. “Working alone gets you killed. The people in your life, the ones who love you, they need to share in the burden. To help and to plan.”
Did she consider herself one of the people who loved him? “That’s sweet, Belle.”
Her fingers dug into his legs. “I’m not being sweet. This is smart, and you have to trust somebody at some time. Duty doesn’t always have to be painful.”
“Doesn’t it?” His voice lowered as he leaned toward her, his senses on alert. “When was the last time you shared? Stopped being a reassuring smart-ass and told somebody, anybody, how scared you are? How overwhelmed by fucking fate?”
Her eyes dilated, and her mouth opened and closed before she pushed out words. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” Taken aback and getting pissed at her accurately profiling him, he flattened her hands under his. “Look at the position you’ve put yourself in, trying to share. You’re on your knees, as vulnerable as a woman can be.” Shit. He could break her neck without flexing a muscle. The woman needed to realize her precarious position and back the hell off.
Instead, she lifted her head and stared him right in the eye. “I do understand my position, and I do realize how dangerous you are. Yet I’m willing to take the chance, to be fragile, to show you what trust looks like. What courage can look like.”
The calm statement burned his ears and sped up the blood in his veins. She was braver than any soldier he’d ever met. Lifting his hand, he allowed himself one moment to touch the smooth skin along her cheekbone, humming at the delicate structure. “You’re so soft, Belle,” he rumbled.
She swallowed and leaned into his touch.
Heat flowed into his torso, expanding him into somebody strong enough to protect her. Determination slid just beneath his skin.
As if reading him, sadness filled her eyes. “You’re not listening.”
He helped her up and stood, backing her into the wall. “I listened.” One knuckle under her stubborn chin lifted her face. Her scent surrounded him, driving him to follow his plan. “I just didn’t agree.”
Temper brushed a muted red across he
r cheeks.
Ah, the pretty one usually got her way, now didn’t she? He grinned, even knowing he played with fire. “Thanks for the suggestion, though. For the record, any time you want to get on your knees, I’m there.”
The punch to the gut was expected and thus didn’t hurt. But it did deserve a response.
His mouth connected beneath her jaw, pressing a hard kiss to her neck. The simple touch nearly knocked him back on his heels. Soft and sweet, her skin felt too smooth to be real. Her head fell back, anchored by the wall, her legs parting to grant him access.
He’d conquered before, and the urge now held a resemblance to battle. To triumph and take. So badly he wanted her under him, pinned for good. Sighing his name.
He kissed down her jugular, feeling the pulse pounding. She slid her hands up into his hair, holding him in place as she plastered her soft body against his. The soft tug awoke the beast inside him. The one who scented his mate. Those incredible curves molded to his hardness, giving way and cushioning him. The driving urge to pleasure her forced him to slow down and explore. To taste and tempt, wandering up to the soft spot behind her ear.
He wouldn’t go near her mouth, because if he kissed her, he wouldn’t stop. One taste of that mouth, of her, would seal his fate.
Drawing back, he took a moment to remember her. Dazed blue eyes, smooth skin, pursed lips. As if waiting for his kiss. So damn perfect he’d do anything to protect her. To defend her from what wanted to hurt her.
He stepped back, allowing his face to harden. “Stay warm until I return.” His hoarse voice sounded more demon than vampire, and he fought a wince.
“Don’t leave,” she breathed.
“I’m sorry, Belle.” Drawing on the universe and controlling her dimensions, he teleported out of Alaska.
Chapter 8
Zane landed hard outside the back entrance to the old whorehouse. Pain ratcheted up his spine. A green laser beam whizzed by his head, morphing into a bullet as it impacted the warped wooden siding. Two more bullets slammed into his upper shoulder.
Shit.