Dark Wolf Returning
Rhyannon Byrd
A bite that unites them…Banished from his pack, werewolf Eli Drake left a heartbroken Carla Reyes behind. Three torturous years later, Carla tracks him down – the pack is in trouble and war is on the horizon. Carla needs Eli’s help, but wants nothing more – even though he’s as ruthless and sexy as ever…Eli hasn’t forgotten Carla or their last night together and the scorching passion that almost consumed him. But Carla wants their bond broken, no matter the cost. Now, as he joins forces with Carla to save his pack, dare Eli hope he can claim a future he never dreamed possible?
“You need to come back,” Carla said, the quiet words breaking into his thoughts.
“Your pack needs you.”
“And what about you? Do you need me?” Eli asked.
Looking him right in the eye, she said, “Like I need a hole in the head.”
There were so many things that he wanted to say to that. The anger that had initially risen up in the face of her own rage was fading, replaced by a raw, intense knot of regret. “We have a lot we need to talk about, Rey.”
“Like hell we do. All I need is you back on that mountaintop, ready to do battle, and not a damn thing more.”
“You really think we can fight together and not talk about the elephant here in the room with us?”
“I have a few conditions before I agree to let you come home.”
“You came here for me,” he pointed out. “What do you want, Reyes?”
Voice little more than a whisper, she kept her gaze locked on his and said, “I want the bond broken.”
RHYANNON BYRD is an avid longtime fan of romance and the author of more than twenty paranormal and erotic titles. She has been nominated for three RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Awards, including best Shapeshifter Romance, and her books have been translated into nine languages. After having spent years enjoying the glorious sunshine of the American South and Southwest, Rhyannon now lives in the beautiful but often chilly county of Warwickshire in England with her husband and family. For more information on Rhyannon's books and the latest news, you can visit her website at www.rhyannonbyrd.com (http://www.rhyannonbyrd.com) or find her on Facebook.
Dark Wolf Returning
Rhyannon Byrd
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To the awesome readers who have given this series such wonderful support…
This one's for you!
THE BLOODRUNNERS’ LAW
When offspring are born of a union between human and Lycan, the resulting creations may only gain acceptance within their rightful pack by the act of Bloodrunning: the hunting and extermination of rogue Lycans who have taken a desire for human flesh. Thus they prove not only their strength, but their willingness to kill for those they will swear to protect to the death.
The League of Elders will predetermine the Bloodrunners’ required number of kills.
Once said number of kills are efficiently accomplished, only then may the Bloodrunner assume a place among their kin, complete with full rights and privileges.
THE DARK WOLF
A Dark Wolf bloodline is the purest of the Lycan race.
They are the most primal and powerful of their kind. Visceral. Predatory.
Creatures of instinct and hunger.
They are the potential for all things good and evil.
And they will forever act with furious vengeance to protect the ones they love.
Contents
Cover (#u95fd9872-1833-5c5a-8d5f-30064a13c94a)
Introduction (#u3d786892-af79-532d-8321-bb5a83f28c45)
About the Author (#ue350d935-de48-54e3-a31d-29c946812101)
Title Page (#ua3e2aea9-8175-5c39-88ce-0fbea44e180c)
Dedication (#uf53804e1-27e4-50ec-b073-aa9d4e6d016a)
The Bloodrunners' Law (#ua735bb6f-8491-5f53-bc1c-269042c3bf6e)
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ude80dc4a-5f86-5c5e-b647-91c9995ecd15)
Love sucked. And it hurt. Like a bitch.
Carla Reyes believed this with every fiber of her being, because she’d learned it the hard way. By experience. She bore the internal scars to prove it.
But she wasn’t alone. As far as tales of pain and betrayal and heartbreak went, she knew her specific story wasn’t all that different from what had happened to thousands—make that millions—of other women around the world. At the emotional level, of course. Obviously, the fact that her mother was a werewolf, which made Carla a half-breed, added a certain edge to the situation. As did the fact that the object of her need was a male so completely and utterly alpha wolf, he’d once made other deadly Lycans literally scurry out of his path.
Now, from what she’d heard, he intimidated everyone he came across, no matter their species. Everyone but her, that is. She’d taught herself to feel nothing where Elijah Daniel Drake was concerned. And it had worked for a long time. Until her shields had been blasted to hell and back almost two weeks ago, when she’d been taken prisoner by a rival werewolf pack and overheard their battle plans before making her escape.
Now the time had come for him to make things right. Both for her...and for Eli’s birth pack, the Maryland-based Silvercrest Lycans. Failure wasn’t an option, because failure could mean the death of not only the pack, but also her friends and their loved ones. And her fellow Bloodrunners meant too much to her to sacrifice because of misplaced pride.
As Carla drove into the star-filled night, she was so tired she could almost taste the sweetness of sleep, but refused to give in. For two weeks, she’d had to struggle through injury and fatigue to find him. Tonight, he felt closer—within her reach—and she knew this was it. She was currently making her way across Louisiana, and within a mere matter of days, her search would finally be over.
Then she was going to do what she should have done the moment he’d abandoned her. She was going to end the pain once and for all. Break the connection, like a bone fracturing beneath the force of a brutal, crushing blow.
She was going to make him cut her loose...and be free.
After that, things would be...easier. She would get on with her life, and find a way to forget that she’d ever even known Eli Drake.
Were there risks with her plan? Of course. Weren’t there always when it was something that mattered?
Her life as a Bloodrunner—a hunter of rogue wolves who had taken a liking for human flesh—was nothing but one continual risk after another. And now, thanks to Silvercrest enemies who were planning to attack the pack, which was already weakened after catastrophes it had suffered at the hands of Eli’s own father, an inevitable war was on its way. A bloody battle on a scale she knew might very well wipe out every person she’d ever loved and cared about. Her band of brothers, in the truest sense of the word.
They needed Eli and his fellow mercenaries on their side. Needed the mercs’ strength and expertise to help train the members of the pack who were willing to fight. But once he’d served his purpose, she was making this happen. Ripping him from her heart and her thoughts for the final time. For forever...
Even if it killed her.
Chapter 1 (#ude80dc4a-5f86-5c5e-b647-91c9995ecd15)
Two days later...
Eli Drake blinked his bleary eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Shit. Had he drank so much he was hallucinating? If so, his pickled mind couldn’t have come up with a more stunning, confounding vision. The hole-in-the-wall, small town Texas bar where he and his crew had landed for the night was a decent enough place to settle for a few hours while they tossed back some liquid therapy—and after the last assignment they’d taken, they’d definitely needed it. Hell, they could have drowned themselves in whiskey and beer for days on end, and it wouldn’t have been enough to wipe out the horror of what they’d seen in that little South American village.
So, yeah, the woman who’d just walked into the bar had to be a by-product of his inebriation.
Only...as far as he could recall, he’d only had two whiskeys. For a man his size, even if he had been human, that wouldn’t have been enough to make him start seeing...imagining... Damn it. He couldn’t even get the words out within the privacy of his own mind.
Maybe it’s a stress vision? I probably just need a break from my shitty day job.
Yeah, that was a better explanation than the alcohol, and extreme stress had been the riding theme of his life these past few weeks. Months. Years.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Eli focused on forcing the vision away. He didn’t need crap like that screwing with his head. Sure, he was going to have to face her soon enough, considering he and his men were finally headed back to the mountains where he’d grown up, to his hometown of Shadow Peak, where the Silvercrest Lycans lived. But he wasn’t ready for it now. Not tonight.
Facing Carla Reyes again after three years of banishment was something that would take battle armor and a heavy duty, steel-lined cup to protect his balls.
Fate, however, apparently didn’t give a damn.
When the Lycan to his left softly swore under his breath, his deep voice rough with appreciation, Eli choked back a biting curse. Christ, he wasn’t imagining things if others could see her, too. She was really there. In the flesh. Carla-Fucking-Reyes.
His next indrawn breath confirmed it, his dick hardening with ridiculous ease beneath the fly of his jeans. The soft, sleepy, feminine moan that followed made him look down, and he was momentarily surprised to find a woman straddling his lap, her face planted against his chest. He’d completely forgotten she was there, but then, it’d been a while since she’d spoken. He couldn’t recall her name, but she wasn’t in any shape to remind him. She was out cold, a line of drool slipping from the corner of her pink lips.
Hmm... Classy chick.
With a jerk of his chin, he signaled Kyle Maddox, his second-in-command and the guy who’d spotted Carla, to deal with the comatose blonde. But it wasn’t the woman on his lap that had Kyle’s attention, his nostrils flaring as he pulled in the Runner’s scent. Eli knew the moment his friend pegged her as a half-blood Lycan, his dark brows slowly rising on his forehead.
Eli gestured again to the blonde in his lap. “Take her.”
Kyle snorted as he moved to his feet and lifted the woman into his arms. “And do what with her?”
Keeping his gaze locked on Carla, Eli said, “Just make sure she gets somewhere safe for the night. I don’t want one of these assholes in here taking advantage of her.”
“She’s definitely a local girl, so I’ll talk to the servers. Maybe one of them can take her home with them.”
“Good,” he muttered, impatient for Kyle to get the hell away from him before Carla reached the table. “Just do it.”
Carla had spotted him in the crowd and was headed his way, her gaze sliding toward the nearby group of Lycans standing at the bar—Sam, James, and Lev—who were watching her with unmistakable interest. Even Kyle, who had moved over to join them with the blonde in his arms, had his full attention focused on Carla. She looked exhausted, but gorgeous. At five-six, she was just tall enough that she didn’t look like a child when standing beside a man of Eli’s height, but was still...petite. Lithely muscled and battle-scarred, but somehow still incredibly feminine. Big brown eyes flecked with green and framed by thick lashes. Slim, delicate nose. Waves of thick, silky hair the colors of sunshine and honey and gold, the soft bangs falling across her brow. She was, quite simply, stunning. The most perfect, alluring, sensual female he’d ever known.
And, Jesus, that mouth of hers had always been his undoing. Full, sexy, sweet. Velvety and pink, like the petals of a flower. He wanted to devour her. Kiss her until he drew blood, which wasn’t surprising. From the moment she’d hit adulthood, this little half-breed had always drawn the hunger of both the man and the beast inside him. A hunger that was as visceral and dark as it was insatiable. How he’d fought it for so many years, when he’d been living with the pack, he didn’t know. He should have been given a damn medal for not falling on her like a rabid, sex-starved animal the instant she came of age—but he’d somehow kept himself under tight control, his fears for her safety the only thing that had a chance in hell of keeping him in line.
He’d been a goddamn saint when it came to Reyes...until that last week before his banishment.
As if they were some kind of penance for his sins, the memories of her from that week still woke him in the dead of night in a sweat, filled with an aching need that was primal, savage, and raw. So powerful he could taste it in the back of his throat. Here he was, three years later, and he still dreamt about her every night he didn’t drink himself into a stupor.
Studying her expression, Eli wondered if she was about to make him pay for the carnal things that had happened that week. Is that why she’d tracked him down? To tell him she’d rather see him dead before letting him return to the pack? Because that was definitely hatred he could see burning in her beautiful, narrowed eyes.
Shoving his emotional reaction to her presence to the back of his mind, he focused instead on simply watching her...waiting. Eating up the sight of her in the tight jeans and T-shirt and battered hiking boots.
At a quick glance, you would never guess she was a hunter of deadly werewolves. Certainly, the clueless humans in the bar, who had no idea they had shape-shifters in their midst, would have never guessed she was both battle and weapons trained. The Silvercrest Lycans would be surprised to know that much of that training had come from Eli himself, since it’d been in secret. Every aspect of their complicated “friendship” had been private and secret and forbidden.
God, he’d been so drawn to her. Though he was older than her, she hadn’t been a typical giddy twenty-two-year-old when their relationship had developed. She’d been sweet, but reserved. Eager for friends, and yet, wary to trust. But she’d trusted him. Past tense.
Eli had never told a soul about them, and he could only assume that Carla had done the same. Though not for the same reasons.
He moved to his feet when she reached the table, fighting the powerful urge to pull her into his arms, and the next thing he knew her tiny fist was launching toward his mouth. Whack! Damn, she’d hit him so hard it jerked his head back, the coppery taste of his blood instantly filling his mouth.
Softly laughing under his breath, Eli lifted his hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his lip as he brought his gaze back to hers.
“What the hell is so funny?” Her soft words vibrated with fury.
“Nothing,” he murmured, thinking he’d come close to getting what he wanted. Someone’s blood had been drawn, just not hers. And not in the way he’d hoped for.
Contempt clouded her expression. “You never could just give an honest answer to a question, could you?”
“Insults and accusations already?” he drawled, sliding back into his chair. The worst thing in the world he could do was let her know how the sight of her affected him, especially when he could feel his own angry frustration with fate and life and her blatant hatred building inside him, desperate for release. “That didn’t take long.”
She drew in a sharp breath at his snide tone, the skin around her eyes tightening as she took the seat across from him and asked a passing server for a Scotch. It was clear from the look on her face that she hadn’t meant to launch into the topic of their past. She was irritated with herself that she had, and seemed determined to get to the point of this strange, unexpected visit. “You know about your dad?”
“That he’s dead?” He lifted a hand, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Yeah, I heard about it.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, a painful mix of emotions flashed through her eyes before she managed to bank them. “And you didn’t think to come home?” she asked in a careful tone.
Brows drawn together, he tried to reason out why she thought the death of his psychotic father would herald his immediate return. Had the entire pack thought he would come crawling back the moment he learned that dear ol’ daddy had staged a bloodthirsty coup that resulted in the death of the pack’s entire governing body, the League of Elders? An attack that would have led to Stefan Drake’s total control of the Silvercrest Lycans, if not for the help of the half-breeds his racist father had tried so hard to turn the pack against.
The League of Elders might have banished Eli for the unsanctioned kill he’d made on one of the rapists who’d attacked his sister three years ago...but they weren’t the only reason he’d stayed away. Hell, they weren’t even at the top of the list. No, his reasons for staying away had far more to do with... Well, with things he spent a lot of time trying not to think about. Things he was still trying to figure out how to deal with.
And every damn one of those things had to do with the woman sitting across from him.
Voice low, he finally responded to her question. “Once I heard that you and Eric and Elise were all right, I didn’t see any reason to rush home. But I didn’t plan on staying away forever, Rey. I was coming back.”
“When?” she asked, as the server set her drink on the table.
“Now, if you can believe it. That’s where we’re headed.”
“Bullshit.” She gave a bitter laugh. “You know what I think? I think you were waiting for me to come to you. And here I am,” she offered with a sharp smile, spreading her arms wide, and he couldn’t help but notice the way the cotton shirt stretched tight across her mouthwatering breasts. Then she leaned forward, bracing her palms flat on the rickety little table with its scarred surface and dirty ashtray, and lowered her voice. “But I’m not here to beg for myself, Eli. I just need you and your ragtag little group to come back with me and do what you do best.”
Hoping to rile her into hitting him again, like some kind of masochist—though he was pretty sure he just wanted to feel her hands on him—his lips curled in a cocky smirk. “You have no idea what I do best. You only got part of the show, if you’ll recall.”
“Not interested,” she grunted in response to his silky, suggestive tone, before taking a drink of her Scotch. She winced as she swallowed the smoky alcohol, then wiped her mouth and shot his cocky expression right back at him. “And let’s face it, Eli. The only thing you’ve ever done well is kill.”
“Ouch, Reyes. If I didn’t know better,” he murmured, clucking his tongue, “I’d say you don’t like me anymore.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just get your band of Merry Men together and let’s get out of here.”
“Merry Men?” he snorted. “I’m no bloody Robin Hood.”
She smirked. “Yeah, what was I thinking? The idea of giving something to the less fortunate is probably a little sappy for a guy like you.”
“A guy like me?”
Lifting her brows, she said, “You know, the big bad mercenary who doesn’t give a shit about anything or anyone, except for how much they can pay him. I hear you’ve cultivated the reputation well.”
Irritation burned through his veins, not easy to hide. But he managed with a lazy grin and a slow drawl. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. A lot of men will lie when it suits them.”
“Oh, God.” She suddenly started to laugh so hard it made him scowl. Wiping the tears from her glittering eyes, she finally managed to splutter, “D-don’t I know it.”
Hell, he’d walked right into that one.
A fraction of his control began to slip, his hands flexing as he fought the urge to reach out and grab her, yanking her into his lap. “You’re pushing it, Reyes.”
Her laughter faded, and she kept her gaze on the Scotch as she swirled it in her glass. “If you’re uncomfortable with my attitude or reactions,” she murmured, “then I gotta tell you that I don’t really care. I’m not here to make you feel better, or to talk about the past.” She stopped swirling her drink, her dark gaze lifting, locking with his. “I’m here because your family needs you. You do recall that you have a brother and sister, right? And I can only imagine they have a hell of a lot to say to you right now, considering you haven’t been returning their calls.” She pushed back from the table and gave him a look that would probably scare a lot of men into doing whatever the hell she wanted them to. “Now get off your ass and let’s get out of here.”
“No,” he rasped. “Not until you answer a few of my questions.”
“Like we have the time,” she started to argue, but he cut her off.
“We have as much time as we need, because I’m not going anywhere until you fucking spill.” He took a deep swallow of his whiskey, and waited for her to bring her chair back to the table, before asking, “You came here alone?”
“Of course.” At the look on his face, she said, “What? You thought someone needed to come with me and hold my hand?”
His jaw got tighter. “Why now?”
She glared back at him as if she couldn’t understand what his problem was. “War isn’t enough of a reason?”
“From what I’ve understood from Eric’s messages, the Silvercrest have been in trouble for a while now.”
“With no help from you, huh?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Like I said, I was planning to head back.”
“Right. How kind of you.”
“Why now, Reyes? Why you? You didn’t rush out and try to track me down months ago, when this all started. So tell me the truth. Why— Now?”
She held his stare, and he could tell she was planning on just waiting him out, until she let herself really look him in the eye. Whatever she saw there, whether it was anger or his sheer determination—it made her frown deepen. Forcing the words out between her quickening breaths, she told him, “It was the right time. I felt...raw. And I suddenly knew I could find you. When I was in danger, the bond started to pull at me—”
“So you feel it, too?” he cut in sharply, interrupting her explanation. His heart started trying to pound its way through his chest with hard, violent beats, and it was all he could do to stay in his damn chair in his relaxed pose, instead of surging to his feet and grabbing her shoulders, demanding she tell him everything.
Still scowling, she cast a wary look toward the hand still holding his glass, as if surprised it hadn’t shattered in his brutal grip. Her chin lifted in assent.
“I’ve wondered about that.” He tossed back his drink, slamming the empty glass onto the table, while his thoughts churned. He felt pain, frustration, loss. But mostly rage. A deep, seething rage for everything that had happened, and why.
He cleared his throat, his hooded gaze locked in hard and tight on her face, trying to read her expression. The bond should have enabled him to feel her emotions as easily as his own, but it didn’t, because it was only half-formed. He’d realized that right from the start, though it’d taken time to sort out exactly how the partially formed bond would affect him. And it’d kept him up at nights, wondering if Carla was being affected in the same way.
When he couldn’t get a damn thing from the look on her face, Eli lowered his gaze to the table and heard himself saying, “For what it’s worth, I didn’t even realize the bond had taken hold until almost a week after I left. By that time, I was already in South America.”
When he looked up to see her reaction to his confession, she turned her head to the side and laughed again. The sound was hollow and heavy, sounding as exhausted as she looked. “Well,” she murmured. “I guess it’s good to know I’m not the only one stuck in this hell.”
His jaw tightened, but he forced out a slow breath, not wanting to rise to her bait. And she was definitely baiting him, spoiling for a fight. Damn it, he was handling this all wrong, but it was like a train wreck he couldn’t stop from happening right in front of him. He was pissed at how badly he wanted her. At how fucking sexy she looked. How angry she was at him.
Knowing he needed to change the subject, he asked, “What were you in danger from?”
Her mouth flattened with irritation, as if she hadn’t meant to let that bit slip out either, her reluctance making him even more suspicious. He could feel it in his gut, the fact that there was something she didn’t want to tell him. “I’ll sit here all damn night and wait you out if I have to,” he threatened in a low voice. “But you’re going to answer that question.”
She took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring a little, and he felt the pull down in his lower body get even tighter as he wondered if she could scent him the way he could scent her. Not just on a Lycan level, but one that went even deeper. And if she could, was it affecting her, making her hungry for something only he could give her?
Her head dropped back on her shoulders, then dropped forward, and he could have sworn he heard her give a soft growl. Then she lifted her head, looking right at him, and nervously licked her lips. “I know Eric’s been leaving you messages at a number he had for you, asking you to come home. Didn’t he tell you about Elise?”
Because he was so often in places where cell phone coverage was nonexistent, and hadn’t had a permanent base since leaving the pack, Eli had used a couple of different messaging services for both work and his family. It was one of those numbers that Eric had been calling.
Answering her question, he said, “I haven’t heard from Eric the last couple of weeks. He sounded pretty pissed off in his last message, because I hadn’t returned any of his calls. But I wasn’t in a situation where I could talk to him,” he explained, which was only partially true. “What is it you think he should have told me about Elise? Is she all right?”
“Two weeks ago, Elise was kidnapped by Sebastian Claymore.”
He shot forward to the edge of his seat. “Was she hurt? What the hell happened?”
From what he’d been able to piece together from Eric’s messages, Eli knew that a Lycan named Roy Claymore had assumed control of the Whiteclaw pack, and Sebastian and Harris Claymore were his nephews. Eric’s last message had mentioned something about Harris being under suspicion for hassling their sister, Elise, and that had been enough for Eli to know he needed to get his affairs in order so that he could head back, even though he’d known it would mean facing Carla. Elise had already been through too much not to have her brothers there looking out for her. He just hadn’t realized the situation would escalate so quickly. Had thought he still had time to make it back, before he was needed.
“She’s fine, Eli. She made it out of there that same day, and she wasn’t...they didn’t hurt her.”
“Eric mentioned that the Runners were having trouble with the Whiteclaw, but said he’d go into more detail when I got in touch with him. What exactly did the Claymores want with her?”
“It’s a long story, and not one for someplace this crowded. She was scared, but she wasn’t harmed. I made sure to give them a hard enough time that it kept them busy.”
“You were with her?” he asked sharply, while the mother of all headaches started pounding in his temples.
“I was taken as well,” she murmured, clearly not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “They were able to sneak up on us, and we were taken back to Hawkley together.”
They’d taken his woman and his sister to Hawkley, the Whiteclaw pack’s hometown? A place where they would have been surrounded by those bastards?
Oh, hell, those sons of bitches are gonna die.
There were about a million questions he wanted answers to, but Eli scraped out the most important one first: “Did they touch you?”
The idea of her in danger—a danger he hadn’t been able to sense because of the weakness of their bond—was too much for him, making his inner beast seethe for release. His gums ached from the heavy weight of his fangs, the tips of his fingers burning as his claws prickled beneath his skin. He couldn’t believe he was a fraction away from shifting in the middle of a goddamn human bar, but that’s how this woman had always affected him, making him do things he’d never thought he would otherwise do.
Instead of tensing up and getting riled by his demanding tone, her posture had relaxed, one lightly muscled arm hooked over the back of her chair. “That isn’t something that should concern you.”
“Did they touch you?” he asked again, his voice now little more than a snarl.
Cocking her head a bit to the side, she studied him through her lashes. After a heavy silence, she finally said, “I would have been raped if I hadn’t managed to get free. As it was, I just got knocked around a bit.”
He wanted to roar at how casual she sounded about that, when it made him want to go for the blood of every Lycan who’d hit her, gleefully ripping them apart, one painful piece at a time. “How did you get away?”
“I knew that when the Runners realized we were missing, Wyatt would—” She paused suddenly, giving him a strange look. “Uh, when Eric left you messages, did he happen to mention that Elise and Wyatt Pallaton are bonded now?”
“I didn’t know it’d happened, but Eric thought it was headed that way.”
He could tell she was trying to figure out how he felt about his sister permanently attaching herself to the male who was Carla’s Bloodrunning partner, but he didn’t know. Until he saw the two of them together, he wasn’t forming an opinion. If Pallaton treated his sister right and made her happy, he’d have no issue with him. If he didn’t, Eli was going to kick his ass. It was as simple as that.
Reaching for her glass again, she said, “Anyway, I knew Wyatt and the others were coming, but there was no way they would get to her if I didn’t create a distraction. So that’s what I did.”
“And afterward?” he pressed, sensing that she was leaving out a hell of a lot. He had a strong suspicion her distraction had required her to put her own life at even greater risk to save his sister’s, and it made him both grateful and viciously angry.
She downed the last of her drink, and set the glass back on the table. “While I was making my escape, I heard some things that compelled me to steal some money and a car and come after you.”
“To drag me back home. For the pack.”
She gave him a look that would have wilted a lesser man. “It sure as hell isn’t because I want you there.”
“What did you hear?” he demanded, noticing the discoloration on her cheekbone as she turned her head and the light caught it. It was a healing bruise, and based on how many days since she’d gotten it, he knew it must have initially been brutal. Lycans had accelerated healing abilities, and though she was only half wolf, her body healed much faster than a human’s. Given the look of her face now, Eli imagined she’d been more than knocked around a little, and he was looking forward to paying back the ones who were responsible. In blood and pain and death.
“Before I left Hawkley,” she finally replied, bringing that dark gaze back to his, “I overheard some of the Whiteclaw soldiers talking about their plans for the Silvercrest. They haven’t managed to secure the number of soldiers they were hoping for from other packs, so they’ve come up with a new plan. One even deadlier than we’d feared. Since you said Eric didn’t go into a lot of detail in his messages, it sounds like there’s a lot you need to be brought up to speed on. But you can believe me when I say we need a miracle, Eli. Unfortunately, the only thing we’ve got on our side, other than my guys, is you.”
He knew who she meant by her “guys.” There were five men who made up the Silvercrest’s Bloodrunning team: Mason Dillinger, Jeremy Burns, Brody Carter, Wyatt Pallaton, and Cian Hennessey. Actually, he needed to make that six men, since his brother Eric was now working as a Runner, though the last Eli had heard, his brother wasn’t partnered up yet the way the others were.
At his silence, she added, “You were always rumored to be the most ruthless wolf the pack had ever seen. Jeremy told us you tore the male who attacked Elise into pieces. That’s the kind of man we need.”
For a moment, he was surprised that Jeremy knew what had happened, since his father had purposefully kept the Runners ignorant of Elise’s attack. The only reason Carla had known was because Eli had told her. She wouldn’t have been able to share that confidence with any of her fellow Bloodrunners without giving away their secret relationship, but that didn’t mean that the truth hadn’t eventually been leaked by someone else. For all he knew, Elise herself had been the one to finally share the horrific story. Or perhaps Eric, since he was now one of them.
Not that it mattered. Regardless of how Jeremy had learned what he’d done, what she’d said was true. Eli had ripped that bastard to pieces, and he didn’t regret it. But it bothered him that Carla might think of him as some kind of monster, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking her if that’s what she’d meant.
“Are you calling me a monster?”
“No.” She slowly arched her brows. “I’d only use that term if I was talking about your personality.”
He let that slide, knowing she was willing to say anything to make the canyon between them even deeper.
“So how did you find me?”
She shifted a little uncomfortably in the chair, but she didn’t refuse to explain. “It was like the thing with the Whiteclaw jolted me out of a fog, and I suddenly knew that it would work. That if I wanted to, I’d be able to pinpoint your location. So instead of making my way back home with the others, I stole a car. Grabbed a map from the glove box. Called Wyatt and told him I was coming after you.”
Staring at her beautiful face, Eli felt a confusing wave of emotion sweep through him, piercing and sharp. He’d heard that in times of danger, a bonded mate could use the connection that created the bond to locate their other half. And if the distance was too great, they could use a map to help feel the “pull” that would take them in the right direction. From the sound of it, it’d taken Carla several weeks to find him, which seemed longer than he would have expected. But, then, their bond wasn’t complete, which meant it probably didn’t pull as strongly as others.
He refused to acknowledge how much that little fact irritated him. He hadn’t had any right forming a bond with her in the first place, much less to be angry that it wasn’t as powerful as it should have been.
“You need to come back,” she said, the quiet words breaking into his thoughts. “Your pack needs you, and Elise and Eric need you.”
“And what about you? Do you need me?”
She didn’t try to shy away from the question. Looking him right in the eye, she said, “Like I need a hole in the head.”
There were so many things that he wanted to say to that. The anger that had initially risen up in the face of her own rage was fading, replaced by a raw, intense knot of regret that was making him break out in a sweat. “We have a lot we need to talk about, Rey.”
“Like hell we do. All I need is your ass on that mountaintop, ready to do battle, and not a damn thing more.”
Eli gave a frustrated shake of his head. “You really think we can fight together and not talk about the elephant here in the room with us?”
“That’s exactly what I think, because I have a few conditions before I agree to let you come home.”
“You came here for me,” he pointed out, scowling as he picked up on one of his guys snickering under their breath. It sounded like Sam, and he knew the jackass was enjoying hearing him get his ass handed to him by a woman. “What do you want, Reyes?”
Voice little more than a whisper, she kept her gaze locked on his, and said, “I want the bond broken.”
His muscles pulled so tight he was surprised he didn’t shatter, a feeling of dread coiling through his insides that felt remarkably similar to fear. “It can’t be done.”
“It can.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Come home with me, Eli. Fight for your pack. And when the blood clears, you and I can erase what never should have happened in the first place.” She leaned forward in her chair, her eyes bright. “We can finally end this nightmare, once and for all.”
“You really think you can do it?” he scoffed. “Break an unbreakable bond?”
“Yes.” She gave him a slow, determined smile. “I plan on breaking the hell out of it.”
Chapter 2 (#ulink_560c34f4-308b-5f96-a91a-5030fa6c077a)
Carla knew the instant he realized she wasn’t bullshitting him, his belligerent expression slowly giving way to shock.
It was because of Eli’s supercharged bloodline and her own powerful alpha genes that they’d ended up in this mess. At least that’s what her friend Jillian believed had been the cause of her problems, landing her with a bond that was, but wasn’t. One that was only partially fixed in place, thanks to the crappiest timing in the universe. Or...maybe the luckiest, depending on how you looked at it. In Carla’s case, a partial bond was better than a full, unbreakable one.
As it was, she’d been able to manage without him. Oh, her heart had been battered and bruised for...well, for a long time after he’d abandoned her. But she’d been able to go on, functioning without him.
The only thing she hadn’t been able to do was crawl into bed with another man.
Eli, from the look of things when she’d walked into the bar and found him with a scantily clad blonde passed out in his lap, hadn’t been suffering that particular symptom. And, God, did that tick her off.
After all, it wasn’t like a guy who looked like him would have trouble getting any woman he wanted in his bed. A man too gorgeous to be real—and certainly for his own good. Chiseled, rugged, and massive. Tall and broad and ripped with muscle. Golden skin. Ice blue eyes rimmed with dark, stormy gray. Thick, inky black lashes. He’d always worn his hair short when she’d known him but it was shaggy now, curling around his neck and ears. Messy in that way that movie stars spent a fortune trying to achieve, while Eli probably just ran his hands through it and let it dry. Unfair, how beautiful he was. A dangerous, primal predator who could slay with nothing more than a sarcastic twist of that bold, sensual mouth.
He was so breathtakingly masculine, and so impossibly lethal. To the heart as well as the flesh. And she knew that lesson better than anyone.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down, knowing he could no doubt sense her every emotion. But it was difficult when inside she was seething with rage. She hated feeling this out of control. It wasn’t something she allowed, given her occupation. Anger made you stupid, and a hunter couldn’t afford to make careless mistakes.
Neither could a woman.
The silence that had settled between them was just about to the point where she wanted to snap at him to say something already, when the tall guy she’d seen him sitting with earlier approached the table. Thankfully without the blonde Eli had dumped in his arms. “I hate to interrupt, but we need to get out of here. They’re closing soon.”
Eli nodded, then moved to his feet in a rippling display of muscle that his jeans and T-shirt did little to conceal. As she stood, as well, the rest of the group who’d been standing nearby at the bar joined them, looking between her and Eli as if they were waiting for him to make the introductions.
Sounding more than a little pissed off, Eli said, “Carla, this is Kyle Maddox, Sam Harmon, James Bennett, and Lev Slivkoff. Guys, this is Carla Reyes. I, uh, know her from home.”
Carla almost winced in sympathy for the gorgeous jerk, since he’d sounded so awkward there at the end, as if he didn’t know what to say about her. He’d obviously never mentioned her to any of his friends or coworkers or whatever a badass Lycan called the other badass Lycan mercenaries that he fought with. Something buried deep inside her gave a stupidly pained cry at that fact, but she refused to pay any attention to it. She wasn’t going to let a little hurt make her act like an idiot in front of him.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she murmured, shaking their rough, battle-hardened hands. They were all tanned and tall and dark, except for Lev, whose shoulder-length mane was as golden as hers. And while the others had dark, midnight-colored eyes that nearly drowned out their ebony pupils, his were an interesting mix of green and blue that could barely pass for human.
They were all pretty much stunningly attractive, oozing the kind of raw sex appeal that probably made most women drool when they saw them—but Lev was definitely the best looking of the bunch, reminding her of a badass Russian enforcer she’d once met during a hunt. When he grabbed her hand, she almost laughed, thinking he was going to kiss the back of it, like something out of a movie. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned it over and licked the inside of her wrist with a rough tongue, right over her pulse. Her startled gasp was drowned out by Eli’s guttural snarl, and the next thing she knew Lev had released her hand and was stumbling into the guy named James, who had a wicked scar on his throat, because Eli had just given Lev a violent shove.
“Don’t be a jackass,” Eli growled.
“He loves me, really,” the Lycan drawled, though there was something in his rich, masculine scent that told her he was more. They all were. She just didn’t know what that more was, and there was no way in hell she was asking when she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
Carla kept a careful eye on the group as they settled their bill at the bar, not quite sure what to expect from them. They were eyeing her with open looks of curiosity and friendly smiles, but she was still a bit wary. Not physically, but emotionally. The last thing she wanted was for one of them to blurt out a question about her relationship with Eli. And they looked nosey enough to do it.
“Since the men and I are heading back with you,” Eli rumbled, “we should find a motel for the night, then hit the road first thing in the morning.”
She’d just started to ask how quickly he thought they could reach Maryland, when the sound of screeching tires and loud voices came from the bar’s front parking lot.
“What was that?” she asked, though no one was paying her any attention. They were all focused on the one named Sam, who had made his way over to one of the front windows and was peeking outside. “Shit,” he muttered. “It looks like we’ve got a problem.”
Eli grabbed her arm and jerked her behind him. “Who is it?”
“I can’t tell yet,” Sam replied, while the remaining customers, along with the staff, started pouring out the back entrance. It apparently wasn’t the first time this place had seen this kind of “problem,” and given the look of the clientele, Carla doubted it would be the last. “But we’ve got three pickups with beds full of armed bad guys,” Sam was saying, “and they’re stopping by our trucks. So my guess is that they’re here for us.”
“Were you followed here?” Lev asked her.
“What? No! Of course not.”
“Then they’re definitely here for us,” the one named James murmured in a deep, gravelly voice.
“Don’t be so sure,” Eli muttered. “She has a knack for dragging trouble in her wake.”
“I do not!” she snapped, poking him hard in the back of his shoulder.
Sam scratched his head as he sauntered back over to the group, a funny expression on his handsome face as he looked at Eli. “I’ve never seen him like this,” he seemed to be saying to the other guys. “He’s always so blasted nice to women. Why’s he keep riling this little thing?”
James shrugged. “Beats me.”
“All of you, mind your own damn business,” Eli growled.
Kyle flashed a smile. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starting to get a good idea of the problem.”
Lev threw back his head and let out a lusty laugh. “This is gonna be priceless.”
Eli slowly looked from one man to the next, his powerful frame drawn tight with tension. “Shut up about her,” he said in a low voice, “or I’ll break your heads before those idiots out there even get a chance.”
As she moved back to his side, Carla thought he looked and sounded more than ready to thrash the next guy who teased him, but they didn’t seem to care.
“You don’t have to get so testy,” Sam drawled, his dark eyes shining with humor. “We like her.”
“I’m afraid the feeling isn’t mutual anymore,” she muttered, reaching back and pulling the gun she’d stolen off one of the Whiteclaw soldiers from the waistband of her jeans.
“Oh, God,” Lev murmured, clutching his heart when she opened the clip, checking her ammo. “I think I just fell in love.”
At her startled look, Sam laughed. “Lev has a thing about women who can handle a weapon.”
“Mmm. That I do.”
Kyle snorted. “He has a thing about all women.”
The blond arched his tawny brows at the grinning merc. “And you don’t?”
Kyle winked and blew him a kiss. “Don’t go sounding jealous, honey. You know I love you.”
This time, Lev was the one who snorted. “You just like the way I fill out my jeans.”
Carla looked at the four laughing idiots and wondered what on earth she’d gotten herself into. What was Eli doing with these clowns? She’d come here for warriors, damn it. Not a collection of frat boys who enjoyed ribbing each other.
Though, to be fair, these mercs didn’t look anything like any frat boy she’d ever seen. They would have made even the college ball players look puny.
Ah, now I get it, she thought a few minutes later, after they’d decided how to handle the situation and she, Eli, and Kyle had made their way out the back entrance and around the left side of the building. The customers and staff had thankfully scattered, no doubt heading into one of the other bars farther down the road, since there wasn’t much of anything else around. There’d been a small group of human thugs lying in wait for the mercenaries just outside the exit, but Lev, Sam, and James, who’d gone out first, had quickly taken care of them, before going right. Then the three mercs had engaged the armed gunmen causing havoc in the front parking lot, while Eli and Kyle stayed with her in the shadows.
These guys might act like a bunch of frat boys, but they sure as hell didn’t fight like them. Relief swept through her in a warm rush as she watched them, making her breathe a bit easier. If she was going to have to endure the seven circles of hell by being close to Eli, she at least wanted to know it was for a good reason. And protecting the ones she loved was as good a reason as there was.
Wyatt was worried about her, and had tried talking her into coming back during each of their conversations since she’d started this journey. It was a testament to how much she meant to all the guys, since they knew Eli and his men were needed—but they apparently cared about her even more. She really was like the little sister none of them had, aside from Eric, and she should have realized how they would react to her heading off on her own. There was probably going to be hell to pay when she finally made it back to the Alley—the place that the Bloodrunners called home.
But at least it would have been worth it. These mercenaries might be even more of a joking, smartass group than the Runners, but they were seriously skilled when it came to combat. Bullets sprayed from the humans’ guns as they scattered around the remaining cars in the lot and shot wildly into the night, unable to pinpoint the mercs’ locations as the guys quickly took down one assailant after another. She could sense Eli and Kyle’s need to join the fight and help their friends, but knew they were sticking close to her in order to provide protection.
Eli Drake had always been the most overprotective male she’d ever known, and that obviously hadn’t changed. She knew he didn’t want to leave her side, but when it looked like four of the thugs were going to slash the tires on the two shiny, badass black trucks she assumed belonged to the mercs, he told her to stay with Kyle, and headed off to deal with them.
“You know, we don’t have to hide over here,” she murmured, as soon as Eli had left. “I’m perfectly capable of helping in a fight.”
“I’m sure you are, honey. But I think Eli would probably castrate me if I let anything happen to you. And I’m kinda partial to all my body parts.”
That probably would have been the end of it, if another truckload of men hadn’t come barreling into the lot. Someone must have called for reinforcements, and this time the truck stopped near the side of the building where she was waiting with Kyle. No longer willing to stand this one out when the mercs were so outnumbered, she lifted her weapon as she moved toward the cover of a nearby grove of pecan trees and started firing on the armed gunmen who were shooting into the parking lot.
Carla had managed to take out five of the humans, before she felt a sharp burn cut across her left side, just beneath the edge of her bra. It felt like acid had been poured onto her skin, but she kept firing, until the last gunman in the truck fell. Then she slumped against the thick tree trunk Kyle had pulled her behind, listening to the fighting still taking place out in the parking lot. There wasn’t as much gunfire now, and she knew things were winding down. They needed to get out of there while they still could, before the cops showed up and things really got complicated.
“You’re gonna be in so much trouble,” Kyle predicted, his low voice holding the soft, melting edge of a Southern accent. “Eli told you to stay out of it.”
“I didn’t even get my claws out,” she huffed. “All I did was fire some bullets.”
“He’s still gonna be pissed.”
Ignoring him, she took another look around the side of the tree and watched as Lev finally caught one of the few remaining gunmen for questioning, his big hand fisted in the front of the guy’s bloodied shirt as he pulled the Hispanic-looking male close to his face and spoke to him. The human was apparently being stubborn, because Lev gave him a frustrated shake that probably jarred the thug’s brain loose. She could see his lips moving, and a moment later Lev tossed him aside, not even bothering to watch where the guy landed as he turned and started making his way over to where she stood with Kyle.
“What the hell is their problem?” Kyle asked, as soon as Lev was within hearing distance.
“They work for Julio Varga. Seems ol’ Julio thinks Eli slept with his woman when we were staying down at their compound last month.”
All this because Eli screwed the wrong woman? she thought, her lip curling in a disgusted sneer. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Kyle clucked his tongue at her in admonishment. “He didn’t touch her, honey.” Jerking his head toward a smirking Lev, he added, “It was this jackass who couldn’t keep it in his pants.”
Lev’s grin got wider. “Not fair, man. She caught me when I wasn’t wearing any.”
“You could have tried a little self-control,” Kyle muttered.
“I did,” Lev protested. “But then she got on her knees and—”
“Enough!” Carla waved the hand still holding her empty gun, cutting him off. “I don’t want to hear this.”
Waggling his brows, the golden Adonis sent her a crooked smile. “You sure, pretty wolf? It’s good stuff.”
“Then maybe over a beer sometime,” she relented, finding his boyish charm kind of endearing. He was like a big freaking teddy bear, once you got past the serious sex appeal. “But not in the middle of a fight.”
Before either male could say another word, the gunfire abruptly ended, and Eli was suddenly standing right in front of her. His face and arms were spattered with blood, his shirt and hair damp with sweat, while all those acres of hard muscle flexed beneath his skin as he breathed in a harsh rhythm. And the expression on his face was as darkly furious as his tone. “What the fuck, Carla? Did you or did you not hear me tell you to stay out of it?”
“Oh, I heard you,” she murmured, trying to ignore the fire in her side. “I just don’t take orders from you.”
His nostrils flared, and he fisted his massive hands at his sides. “If you had, then you wouldn’t be bleeding.”
“Shit! She got shot?” Kyle moved to get a better look at her, and his eyes went wide when he saw her blood-soaked left side. “Damn it, woman. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’m fine. It’s just a graze.” She lifted her brows when she looked at Eli. “And I didn’t know you found the sight of a little blood so upsetting.”
One of the mercs choked off a laugh, though she couldn’t tell which one. She was too busy keeping a careful eye on Eli, since he looked like he wanted to throttle her.
“Come on,” he finally muttered, gripping her right arm and dragging her with him as he headed toward those massive black trucks that sat on the far side of the lot.
“Wait, I need my car!” she yelled, looking toward the little VW she’d picked up for almost nothing the week before. It looked a little sad, but damn it, that car had character. She couldn’t just leave it there all by its lonesome to turn into a rust bucket.
Eli flicked a dismissive look over the car. “That piece of shit stays here.”
“Oh, no, it doesn’t!”
“It’s not even yours,” he argued, obviously noticing the Georgia plates.
“Is too!” she shot back, wishing he wouldn’t walk quite so fast, since her head was starting to get a bit woozy. “I bought it off a guy in Atlanta last week for a hundred bucks.”
He stopped and gave her a look that set her teeth on edge, as if he thought she’d gone out of her mind. “You bought a stolen car off some random guy?”
She clenched her teeth, having already figured that part out for herself. No way the human would have sold it to her for that amount if the transaction had been legit. He’d probably just been looking for some quick money to pay for his next fix. And it’s not like they’d dealt with any of the legal paperwork. She’d just needed to ditch the car she’d stolen off the Whiteclaw and find something a little more fuel efficient, since it’d become apparent that tracking down her so-called “other half” was going to take more time than she’d hoped.
So, yeah, the car was most likely hot. But she’d still paid money for it!
“What if I take the keys inside and leave a note to let them know she’s up for grabs?” James offered, speaking up for the first time since they’d come outside.
“Fine,” she muttered, figuring it was better than nothing. “But please get my bag out of the trunk first.”
James nodded as he took the keys she’d dug out of her pocket, the pain in her side burning like holy hell as she moved. But she refused to groan, not wanting to give Eli the satisfaction. Instead, she glared at him as he pulled a set of keys from his own pocket.
“Are you even sober enough to drive?” she asked with a scowl.
He wasn’t looking at her, but she could swear he was rolling his eyes at the question. “We’re not human, Rey. It would take a hell of a lot more than what any of us have had tonight to put us over the limit.” Then, in a lower voice, he muttered, “And you should know I wouldn’t put you at risk like that.”
Five minutes later, she was sitting in the front seat of one truck, one of the guy’s T-shirts balled up and pressed against her side, while Eli drove and Lev and Sam sat in the spacious backseat. Kyle and James had piled into the other truck, along with everyone’s gear. Since Eli refused to stay in the town they’d just been attacked in, in case this Varga guy decided to send more men after them, they had to drive for nearly an hour before they found a cheap roadside motel that had enough rooms for them all. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been paying close enough attention when they were checking in, the blood loss making her a little dizzy, because it wasn’t until the keys were handed out that she realized they were one key short.
Which meant they had five rooms, instead of six.
Son of a freaking bitch!
“Eli,” she started to growl, before stumbling and nearly face planting against the cracked concrete walkway that led to the rooms. Damn it! Her lack of decent sleep the last two weeks, combined with the stress of finally facing Eli again, not to mention the blood loss, was getting to her. She was thankful the other Runners weren’t there to see her like this. They never would have let her live it down.
Kyle had grabbed her before she collapsed, his hold careful, as if he was afraid of hurting her. Did she really seem that fragile? “I think one of us should carry her,” he said, glancing at the others over the top of her head. “She’s looking a little pale.”
“I’ve got her,” Eli grunted, his heavy arm wrapping around her shoulders as he pulled her out of Kyle’s hands and jerked her against his side.
“I don’t know, boss man. You sure you don’t need any help?” Kyle asked from behind them, sounding both concerned and like he was trying not to laugh his ass off. She wasn’t sure what he found so freaking funny, but if it turned out to have anything to do with her, she was going to kick him. Hard.
“Kyle?” Eli muttered, as he opened the door to one of the rooms and all but shoved her inside.
“Yeah?” Kyle asked from the sidewalk.
“Piss off.” Eli slammed the door in the merc’s smirking face, then turned around and shoved a hand through his hair, his narrow gaze immediately connecting with hers. Carla had sat down on the foot of one of the beds, her left side now completely covered in blood. She’d felt a wave of relief when she’d seen that there were two beds in the room—but the look on Eli’s face as he pinned her under his dark glare completely shredded it. He still looked like he wanted to throttle her, but there was something even darker than anger in his unusual eyes, and it had her pulse kicking up. She wasn’t afraid of him, but that hungry, visceral look made her nervous as hell.
Needing a distraction, she said, “I could have paid for my own room, you know.”
His response was dry. “My mistake. I wasn’t aware you’d be flush with cash after escaping from a kidnapping.”
She lifted her chin. “I didn’t run empty-handed. I stole a wad of cash off the Whiteclaw. There’s still enough left to pay for my rooms and my meals on our way back.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ve got it covered,” he murmured, slipping two packs she hadn’t even noticed he was carrying off his shoulder. She was glad to see that one of the bags was hers. The blood on her skin was starting to get sticky, and she was trying to work up the energy to head to the shower so she could clean it off, when he set his bag down on the desk, opened it up, and pulled out a first-aid kit. He came over to the bed she was sitting on and started taking things out of the kit—antiseptic wipes and some ointment—setting them on the comforter.
Carla knew she should object when he grabbed the chair in front of the desk and dragged it over, sat down, then took a pair of scissors from the kit and started cutting her ruined shirt off. But she just couldn’t find the energy. If he wanted to help her, fine. It didn’t mean anything, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to lead to anything.
“Your men, they seem pretty loyal to you,” she said to break the uncomfortable silence. As well as to get her attention focused on something other than how freaking hot he looked. Eli had always worn the post-fight look well, and it looked even better on him now, with his shaggy hair and fierce expression. There were more little lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes than the last time she’d seen him, but they only added to his rugged appeal. It was one of those unfair imbalances in the universe, how things that made a woman look aged usually only a made a man look more attractive. And Eli wore that “lived in” look well.
She didn’t think he was going to bother giving her any kind of response, but he surprised her when he tossed her ruined shirt aside and said, “They’re a good bunch of guys. We’ve been through a lot together.”
She didn’t have time to be embarrassed about sitting there in nothing but her jeans and bra, because he opened one of the wipes and started cleaning the oozing wound. Her breath hissed through her teeth at the sharp sting of pain, but she forced it to the back of her mind and asked, “How did you all meet?”
He tossed the wipe into the nearby trashcan, and shot her a wry glance. “How about I tell you that story when you don’t look like you’re about to pass out?”
“I’m fine. I’ve had worse than this and survived.” Both physically...and emotionally.
He frowned, as if he’d heard her thoughts. Or maybe he just didn’t like the idea of her getting hurt. He never had liked her being a Runner, thinking it was too dangerous. But she’d never had any intention of leaving her job to make him happy. The way she’d seen it, if he’d truly cared about her, he would have learned to accept her and see her for who she really was: a woman and a warrior.
But, then, he’d never really cared about her, had he?
Trailing his rough fingertips just under the graze, he said, “You’ll heal with rest, but the bra needs to come off or it’s going to keep rubbing against the wound during the night.”
Carla looked him right in the eye and gave him her best as if look. “Not—Happening.”
“I wasn’t asking, Rey.”
Gritting teeth, she muttered, “You always were a bossy, manipulative jerk.”
He snorted as he shoved the chair back and knelt in front of her, his big body so close she could feel his delicious heat like a physical touch against her chilled skin. “And yet you used to love spending time with me,” he offered huskily, his mouthwatering scent settling on her tongue like a gift. “What do you think that says about you, princess?”
God, he was so damn good at pissing her off. “I’m not a princess.”
His sensual lips curved in a way that would have made any other woman whose heart he hadn’t shredded light-headed with desire. “Sure you are, Rey. All those big bruisers in the Alley think of you as their little sister, which makes you the princess of the group.”
“They think of me as their equal,” she snarled, wondering why he was goading her on purpose. Then she felt her nipples tightening in the cool air, and realized he’d managed to cut her bra off while she’d been growling at him. Argh! She must be woozier than she’d thought if she hadn’t caught on before he’d bared her to his dark, heavy-lidded gaze.
He was staring at her naked breasts, hard, and she blushed clear to the roots of her hair, trying to cover herself with her right arm, her blood nearly boiling when she caught the crooked smirk on his lips.
His hot gaze flicked up to hers. “After everything that happened between us that last night we were together, modesty is a little pointless now, don’t you think?”
“It was dark in your room that night.” Not to mention it was three years ago, and he’d been drunk off his ass.
“Yeah, but I’m a pure-blood. My night vision is even better than yours.” He flicked his tongue over his teeth, and his lips twitched into a wicked grin. “My sense of taste, too.”
Lust shot through her in a burst so primal and potent it made her shudder, and it took every ounce of strength she possessed not to pant...or throw herself at him. “I would have thought you were too wasted to remember anything from those particular minutes, Eli.”
He slowly arched one of his dark brows. “That night wasn’t the only time I had your taste in my mouth, Rey.”
She blushed even hotter when she realized he was talking about the time he’d licked her juices from his fingers after they’d been inside her. He’d made her come with his hand during their last “sober” interaction together. It’d been two days before the drunken night at his house in Shadow Peak, and they’d met in the woods, as they so often had, carefully avoiding the prying eyes of the pack.
A bitter laugh sounded inside her head as she thought about that telling fact. She should have known then that she was nothing more than his dirty little secret. Something he was too ashamed to admit to. But she’d been blinded by love and faith and foolish dreams. Dreams that had lived inside her heart for too many years to fight them.
With perfect clarity, Carla could still remember the first time she’d ever set eyes on Eli Drake. She’d been no more than twelve, and he’d been...well, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. He should have detested the sight of her, given his father’s virulent hatred of humans and half-breeds, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d grinned at her that day that they’d passed on a small street in Shadow Peak—but it’d been years before they’d ever spoken to each other. Ten, to be exact. And she could still recall the details of that night as if it’d happened only yesterday.
Her mother had always had...issues. And she’d had dismal taste in men. After a string of abusive relationships with Lycan males, Nicole Cates had vowed to only date humans. But the relationships never lasted. The only lasting relationship Nicole had ever enjoyed was with a bottle.
Carla was the result of a short-term affair her mother had had with a human named Antonio Reyes, and he’d disappeared from her life as quickly as he’d entered it. To her family’s surprise, and disgust, Nicole had decided to keep the child, thinking a baby might help her find some stability. But it was Carla who’d become the caretaker. Nicole’s family had made it clear they wanted nothing to do with their pathetic daughter and her half-human offspring, and so the two of them had been on their own. Though she’d had the support of her fellow Bloodrunners when she’d gotten older, no one from the pack had ever helped her and her mother, until the night she’d first spoken to Eli, less than a week after she’d turned twenty-two.
She could still feel the hot slide of angry, frustrated tears slipping down her face as she’d struggled with her mother’s limp body that night, the salty taste of them on her lips. She’d had a call that Nicole was passed out on a sidewalk outside one of Shadow Peak’s bars. Too embarrassed to tell the other Runners, she’d left the Alley and gone up to town to handle it on her own. As she’d tried to get Nicole on her feet, shame had burned in her belly at the thought of the girls she’d gone to school with seeing her mother like this, knowing how horrible they would be. The derogatory names they would call them. The same names she’d heard her entire life.
And then, out of nowhere, Eli had walked out of the darkness and taken her mother from her arms, carrying her home while a stunned and wary Carla had walked beside him. She’d been amazed to realize that he not only knew her name and where her mother lived, but that she was Bloodrunning partners with Wyatt. Afterward, they’d talked out in her mother’s backyard, and it had been the beginning. Of their friendship. Of her love. Of...of everything.
Eli Drake had been her hero that night, coming to her rescue at a time when she’d desperately needed him. But now he was her nightmare. The thing in the world that could hurt her most. That could break her.
Her mother had always warned her that a Lycan male would destroy her heart if she wasn’t careful. How awful to learn that Nicole had been right.
Shattered by the memories flooding through her, Carla closed her eyes, determined to block them out—to block him out—hoping it would help her find some measure of control. Huge mistake. The sudden touch of his tongue to the sensitive skin over her ribs made her gasp, then whimper, and she flushed with mortification. God, she couldn’t have sounded more needy if she’d tried, and his hands flexed against her hips, holding her tighter.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she choked out, when she felt the delicious rasp of his tongue gliding higher, until he was licking the flesh of her blood-smeared breast that she hadn’t managed to cover with her arm. Her breath seized in her lungs, her eyes shocked wide as she stared down at him, too stunned to do anything more than shiver as she watched him lick another smear of blood off her tingling skin, taking the crimson fluid into his mouth, like it was his right.
“Christ,” he groaned, the hungry sound vibrating deep in his chest. “Like I could ever forget that taste.”
“Eli?”
* * *
Pulling his head back, Eli looked up at Carla’s flushed face, and thought To hell with it. He needed this. No matter how dangerous it was to his sanity, he needed it. Craved it. Would have sold his damn soul for it.
Not giving himself time to change his mind, he leaned in close again, wanting her mouth this time, but she jerked back from him, turning her head to the side, her chest heaving. He started to tell her to stop acting like a fucking child and just give him what they both needed after being apart for so long, then stopped when he caught sight of the tears spilling over her pale cheek.
Shit.
“Rey,” he breathed out, feeling like he’d just been gutted. In all the time that he’d known her, he couldn’t ever recall seeing her cry. Not since the night that he’d helped her with Nicole.
Her throat worked as she swallowed. Then she turned her head to look at him and licked her lips. “From the moment we first realized there was something between us, you told me to wait, so I waited,” she whispered unsteadily. “To give it time, so I did. And do you know what I got for it? Nothing. Except your lying ass disappearing without a single goddamn word.”
He wanted to look away from those tear-soaked eyes that were making him feel like the biggest son of a bitch who had ever walked the planet, but couldn’t. “I was banished,” he heard himself scrape from his tight throat. “What did you expect me to do? What the hell would I have said?”
Years-old fury flamed beneath her tears, so bright it made him wince. “Maybe Come with me? Did that ever cross your pea-sized brain? If you ever meant a single damn word that you said to me, you would have asked—”
“I had no idea where I was going,” he bit out, the familiar rise of frustration nearly strangling him. There’d been no goddamn right answer where she was concerned. No matter what he chose, what he did, she would have ended up hurt. He’d simply tried to choose the path that would be easiest for her. And...fuck, maybe easiest for him, as well—at least when it came to his emotions—which just made him sound like a coward. “I didn’t have a home to offer you, Rey. No security or protection. How could I have asked you to give up everything you’d ever known for that kind of life? To leave your friends and family?”
“You were my family,” she whispered, digging that knife even deeper. “At least I thought you were. Fool that I was. You just wanted to screw the girl who’d never bedded down with a Lycan, didn’t you? Was it a bet between you and your friends? Did you all laugh about it behind my back before you left?”
“You know that’s not true,” he growled, wanting to shake her. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I was trying to take care of you!”
She gave a bitter laugh. “And what a stellar job you did. I’d hate to know what it’s like to be someone you want to hurt.”
“Carla, I—”
“Stop!” she pleaded, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her free hand. “Please, just...stop. I don’t want to hear another lie from you. I just want you to leave me alone.”
Shit! This is so screwed up.
Moving to his feet, Eli stared down at the top of her golden head, and wanted to roar with frustration. “I wish I could make you understand, but everything I’ve done...the reasons...it’s complicated, Rey.”
She didn’t say anything. She just turned and crawled up over the bed, then curled into a ball on her side, telling him without words that she was done listening to his bullshit.
“Sleep fast,” he muttered, moving to sit on the foot of the other bed. Elbows on his parted knees, he dropped his head into his hands, squeezing his skull, and kept talking. “We’re getting an early start tomorrow. And I still have questions, so be ready to start answering them.”
There was no response, but he hadn’t expected one. He listened until her breathing evened out, then moved back to his feet and stripped down to his fitted boxers. He pulled the covers over her small, curled up form, forcing himself not to look at her too closely because he knew he’d never be able to stop once he did. Then he turned out the light.
Lying down on his bed, Eli put his hands behind his head and stared up at the watermarked ceiling, wondering what in God’s name he’d been thinking. He’d actually thought he could get his head together before he and the guys reached Maryland and he had to face her again. What a jackass idea. Even if it’d taken months to get back, it still wouldn’t have been enough time to sort out this messed-up situation.
And he could no longer say for certain if he was still trying to protect her...or if it was his own miserable hide he was worried about. Especially seeing as how she wanted rid of him. Wanted to break the tenuous bond that tied them together, severing that final connection.
Turning on his side, he stared at her delicate shape beneath the soft streams of moonlight filtering in through the blinds, and pulled in a deep breath of her warm, intoxicating scent. This woman had been under his skin for years, and he wasn’t sure if staying away from her anymore was the right answer...or the wrong one.
All Eli knew was that it was killing him, not being in that bed with her, holding her against his body, where he wanted her.
And where she’d always belonged.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_69006bfc-8ed4-5ca2-9172-ed6d995a4805)
After a horrible night’s sleep, and a scalding shower that’d barely made her feel alive again, Carla had changed into one of her last clean pairs of jeans and a T-shirt. There was only so much cash she’d been willing to spend on clothes from the money she’d stolen off the Whiteclaw, and so her wardrobe was limited at best. Life would have been a lot easier if she’d had her stupid wallet on her when she’d been kidnapped, but hey, at least she’d had her cell phone. And she’d thankfully had another bra and pair of panties in her pack for this morning, as well as a hairbrush. So while she wouldn’t be winning any beauty contests at the moment, it was nice not to have bed head.
Eli had woken her up with a touch on her shoulder about thirty minutes ago, just after six a.m., and told her he would be waiting outside the room while she got ready. He didn’t mention anything about their argument from the night before, and neither did she. In fact, she didn’t even look at him. She could forgive herself for her momentary lapse last night, but that was her only pass. From now on she needed to stay sharply focused. She had her eye on the prize—being free of him once and for all—and she wasn’t going to let her stupid hormones ruin it for her.
No matter how crazy desperate for him those little suckers turned out to be.
And I doubt going without will kill me, she thought dryly, running her brush through her hair. If that were the case, I’d have dried up and died a long time ago.
A glance in the mirror over the dresser showed that she was still sporting a few yellowish bruises, had dark circles under her eyes, and the tight pinch of fatigue in her facial muscles. She might be only twenty-eight, but she felt eighty. Damn near looked like it, too. But what the hell? It’s not like she wanted him to be attracted to her. Zipping up her pack, she tossed it on her bed and joined him outside.
As they walked to the crowded diner next door, where they were meeting the others, he asked, “You ever hear from your mom?”
Nicole had finally given up on the pack a year before Eli’s banishment and left Shadow Peak, claiming she needed to find a place where she could make a new life for herself. “No,” Carla replied in a flat tone, wondering if her mother had ever managed to succeed with her dream. If so, she was obviously too content there to worry about contacting the daughter she’d left behind.
He didn’t say anything more, and the guys kept the conversation light when they joined them for a quick breakfast. Afterward, they all headed back to the room she and Eli had shared to discuss the situation in private. Once everyone was settled, Eli explained to her what the men already knew: that his father had had a maniacal plan to take over the Silvercrest. A bloodthirsty plan that had resulted in a significant loss of life, had shattered the pack’s sense of safety, and left an entire group of teens—as well as most of the residents in Shadow Peak—emotionally traumatized. As a result, the town had been left without its leaders, and the Bloodrunners were now handling all elements of security for the pack.
Since it was up to Carla to bring them up to speed on the rest, she explained everything that had happened with the Whiteclaw pack over the past weeks, starting with how Eli’s brother, Eric Drake, had met Chelsea, the human he’d recently married, while she was searching for her younger sister, Perry. Making a bad choice, Perry had gone chasing after the wrong guy and ended up falling in with the Whiteclaw pack who lived to the south of the Silvercrest, and who were now controlled by a man named Roy Claymore. With the Runners’ help, Eric had been able to prove that the Whiteclaw had partnered up with the Donovans, a corrupt local Lycan family, on a number of illegal activities, the most horrific being one that involved human girls. With the Donovans’ support, the Whiteclaw had been drugging the girls and pimping them out for Lycan gang rapes. The drugs not only acted as an aphrodisiac on the girls, but also impaired their memories of the attacks. And Claymore was using tapes of the assaults to later blackmail the participants into aiding the Whiteclaw.
She then told them that the Runners had managed to close down a strip club in Wesley, a human town not far from the Silvercrest’s territory. The Whiteclaw had been using the club to find the girls, and closing it down had only increased Roy Claymore’s power hungry desire to destroy the Silvercrest and take their land. Something Claymore felt would be easy to accomplish, given the state the pack had been left in after Stefan Drake’s failed bid for power.
Later, after an attack that some of the Whiteclaw and Donovan wolves had made on the Runners in the Alley, they learned that the Whiteclaw had also developed a “super soldier” drug that not only made them violently strong, but also camouflaged their scent. Which meant they were damn difficult to defeat.
The atmosphere in the room had been grim during her telling, but the group’s tension only increased when she explained about the plans she’d overheard before making her escape after her and Elise’s kidnapping.
“The Whiteclaw were hoping to blackmail the other packs in our region into helping them by providing foot soldiers. But they haven’t secured the kind of numbers they were hoping for, so they came up with a new plan. They’ve used a sizable portion of the money they’ve made from the gang rapes to purchase help from someone in your line of work. A man named Jack Bartley.”
“Son of a freaking bitch,” Kyle muttered.
“You know him?” she asked.
“We’ve gone up against him before,” the merc explained. “He’s human, but he’s a maniac. Has a small army under his command, and they’ll do anything for the right price.”
“He’s human?” she murmured with surprise.
Kyle grimaced. “Well, most of him is. It’s rumored he has shifter blood somewhere in his family tree, which is how he knows of our existence.”
“You were right to be worried,” Sam murmured. “Bartley and his men will spell bad news for your pack.”
She wanted to argue that they weren’t her pack, they were Eli’s, but bit her tongue instead. She didn’t need to make herself sound any bitterer about the pack’s longstanding treatment of the Runners than she probably already had.
“When you went up against him, did you win?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Eli muttered from his position against the wall, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His dark brows were knitted with tension. “But it was at a cost. We lost one of our best men. A guy who would often come and work with us when he needed to earn extra money for his wife and kids. Bartley got his hands on him during the op, and by the time we found him, all that was left was a bloody pile of tissue and bone. They’d skinned him alive.”
“Jesus.”
Holding her worried gaze, he said, “He can be stopped, Rey. We just need to outthink him.”
“Can you do that?”
He jerked his chin toward his men. “These guys can.”
“So these different drugs—the ones they were giving the human girls and the ones that they use on themselves to improve their abilities—are still in production?” Kyle asked from his seat on the foot of the bed. Lev had positioned himself up by the pillows, his back braced against the cheap headboard, while Sam had his shoulders propped against the door and James sat in the desk chair. Carla sat on the foot of the other bed by herself.
Answering Kyle’s question, she said, “As far as we know, production has been halted. We have a Fed named Monroe dealing with the drug labs out west, where it was all being made. Monroe’s sister is married to one of the Silvercrest males, and the Fed is someone we consider a friend. But there’s still the problem of the drugs they have stocked in Hawkley.”
“Why did they target my sister?” The quietly spoken question had come from Eli, and she took a deep breath before turning her head to look at him again.
“They wanted to make a dig at the Runners, and saw Elise as an easy mark. We never should have let her stay up in town by herself, because it drew their attention.”
He made a low sound of agreement, but she could tell he knew there was more to the story. Things she wasn’t telling him. But he didn’t push, and she wondered if he was dreading the explanation as much as she was dreading having to be the one who gave it.
“It’s getting late,” he suddenly muttered, pushing away from the wall. “We can talk things over some more when we stop for lunch, but right now we need to get on the road.”
Fifteen minutes later, they had their gear stowed in the backseat of the truck James and Lev were driving, the rest of the group loaded into the other one, and were heading back down the highway.
With Sam and Kyle in the front seat of the truck she and Eli were in, Carla didn’t speak to him during the journey, though she’d carried on some light conversation with the two mercs. For such ruthless badasses, they were nice guys who even managed to make her laugh a few times, while Eli glared out his window, lost in his own thoughts. The hours went by faster than she’d thought they would, and before she knew it they’d reached a little town the men had stayed in before, where they planned to stop for the night.
They ate together at a great little diner that made killer fried chicken, then grabbed rooms at a local motel. Six of them, at her insistence, which had caused the men to slide curious looks between her and Eli. He went off with Kyle to meet up with a local weapons dealer they’d done business with on several occasions, hoping to score a small arsenal that they could take back to the Alley with them, and refused to let her come along. So she was left sitting alone in her room, with nothing but her thoughts for company. It was still only nine and she was too wound up to sleep, so when Lev knocked on her door and asked if she wanted to grab a drink at the pool hall around the corner, she was glad for the distraction.
They ordered a pitcher of beer, picked out their cues, and before she knew it, she’d laughed her way through three games and they were starting on their fourth.
“No, no. You’re going at that shot all wrong,” Lev drawled, coming up behind her and leaning over her back. “You’ve got to move this hand here, and this one here,” he told her, rearranging the placement of her fingers on the cue.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile, when she made the shot. “That was—”
“Slivkoff!”
She jumped as Eli’s guttural shout silenced the noisy pool hall, the back of her head connecting with Lev’s chin. He swore as she quickly turned to apologize. “Sorry!”
“No problem,” he murmured, casting a funny look over the top of her head. She couldn’t tell if he was about to laugh...or run for cover.
Sensing Eli was close, she turned and found him rounding the pool table, heading right for her. Once again, the scowl on his gorgeous face matched his tone as he growled, “What the hell do you think you were doing?”
Huh. Was it just her, or did he ask that question a lot?
Squaring her shoulders, Carla slowly arched one of her eyebrows. “What did it look like I was doing? Lev asked if I wanted to play some pool.”
His nostrils flared as he stared her down. “And that meant you had to rub your little ass in his groin?”
Lev started to argue that point, but she lifted her hand to silence him. Setting her cue on the table, she took a deep breath, crossed her arms over her T-shirt covered chest, and tried not to let Eli see how furious he’d just made her as she carefully said, “Considering the bimbo blonde who was passed out in your lap last night, I don’t think you can cast any judgments here, Eli.”
He opened his mouth, then obviously changed his mind about whatever he was going to say, because he snapped it shut again. A muscle was starting to pulse at the edge of his jaw, his pupils were nearly blown, and his teeth were clenched so hard she was surprised they hadn’t cracked. Carla recognized the signs of him struggling with his temper, and couldn’t help but shake her head at his outrageous display of jealousy. After ditching her when he was banished, he didn’t have any freaking right to get pissed about anything that she did!
“We’re getting out of here,” he finally muttered, jerking his head toward the door. “Now.”
She could have argued with him, but since he’d already ruined her fun, she didn’t see the point. Instead, she gave him her snarkiest smile and said, “Sure thing, boss man.”
Lev was grinning like a jackass when she turned to tell him goodbye, so she socked him in the shoulder, which just made him laugh. Turning her back on the goofball, she wondered if he’d set this whole thing up just to make Eli jealous, and if so, why?
Whatever Lev’s reasons were for asking her to play pool with him, it had definitely put Eli in a bad mood. Not that he’d been anything but irritable the entire day. But now she could feel him seething behind her as she headed back to her room, his glare all but drilling holes in the back of her head. Not to mention her ass. When she reached her room, he managed to push his way in behind her before she could slam the door in his face, which had been her intention. After the way she’d broken down in front of him the night before, the last thing she wanted was to be alone with him.
Instead of moving deeper into the room, Carla leaned back against the door after she’d shut it, and crossed her arms over her chest again. The graze on her side from the bullet was no longer hurting, thanks to her healing abilities. It’d already scabbed over and probably would have been gone in a day or two, if she weren’t so run-down at the moment.
“Did you get the guns?” she asked, watching him pace along the foot of her queen-size bed, his big hands braced on his hips. He was dressed like the badass mercenary he was, wearing black boots, a faded pair of jeans that perfectly molded his muscular thighs, and a black T-shirt, its short sleeves stretched tight around his powerful biceps. Wherever you looked, his tall body was hard and sinewed and ripped. Even his hair-dusted forearms were mouthwatering, with heavy veins and ridges of muscle pressing against his scarred, golden skin. Then there were his thick wrists. And those big, masculine hands...
“Yeah, we got them.” He sounded distracted, and she could sense his agitation and his...hunger. She just couldn’t tell who or what it was for. Her? Food? A fight? Or some woman she didn’t even know? The bond wasn’t strong enough to give her any definitive answers—just annoying enough to mess with her head.
Pushing her bangs out of her eyes, she went for the safest topic she could think of to take her mind off her nerves. “I noticed that both of the trucks were missing from the parking lot. Did the guys go out somewhere?”
“Yeah,” he muttered without even looking in her direction. “They’re out finding women.”
“Ahh.”
He stopped in the middle of the floor and shot her a piercing look, the lamp on her bedside table casting a soft spill of light over his right side, while his left was bathed in shadow. Voice low and rough, he asked, “Given their agenda for the night, why do you think Lev was here with you?”
“How would I know?” she snapped, throwing her arms out wide in a gesture of frustration. “Maybe he just liked the idea of spending time with a woman he knew wasn’t going to have sex with him?”
He didn’t make any verbal response to her outburst. He simply folded his arms over his broad chest, the black cotton stretching tight across his solid pecs, and glared at her.
“The truth is I don’t know what he was thinking, Eli. I just know that you’re acting like an ass.”
Moving with the slow, predatory precision of a hunter, he lowered his arms and came toward her, his heavy-lidded gaze so hot she felt scorched. “You keep pushing me like this, Rey, and I’m gonna start thinking you want me to do something about it.”
She shook her head. “Am I even meant to know what that means?”
He came even closer, until she had to tilt her head back in order to hold his gaze. “It means that if you think you can get my attention by flirting with my men, you’re going to end up getting a hell of a lot more than you bargained for.”
Pushing off from the door, she jabbed her finger in the middle of his chest. “Back off. You have no claim on me, so stop the act. I’m not buying it.”
“You think it’s an act?” he rasped, the softness of his voice giving her chills.
“I know it is!”
He had her backed against the door before she even knew it was happening, pinning her there with his big, muscular body, his rigid erection pressed hard against her stomach. Cupping her jaw, he tilted her head back even more, and put his face right over hers, so close their noses were nearly touching. “This feel like an act to you, Rey?” he asked huskily, his warm breath coasting over her lips.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned. Though the effect was kind of ruined by her quickening breaths and flushed cheeks.
His eyes were still angry and hot, but the corner of his mouth kicked up in one of those deliciously wicked, crooked grins that had always made her melt. “Baby, I can’t seem to think about anything else.”
“Try—harder,” she sniped. “Because I’m seriously not interested in being your sloppy seconds, Eli.”
It seemed to take him a moment to figure out what she was getting at, and then his expression darkened. “I didn’t touch the blonde,” he told her, biting out each word.
A harsh, humorless laugh jerked up from her chest. “Oh, really? So she just happened to pick your random lap to pass out in last night?”
That muscle started to pulse in his jaw again, the day’s growth of stubble looking damn good on him. “What she was doing there isn’t any of your business.”
“Exactly!” she yelled, shoving hard at his shoulders. “So get the hell away from me!”
Catching her wrists, he pinned them against the door on either side of her head, the tight tips of her breasts pushing into his muscular chest as he pressed even closer.
“Tell me you don’t feel this the same way that I do,” he said against her lips, rubbing them softly with his. “Tell me and I’ll leave you alone, Rey.”
“Damn you,” she moaned.
He laughed roughly, the low sound deep and dark and sumptuous, like he was suddenly feeling happy and hungry all at the same time. “That’s what I thought, baby.”
And then, before she could blink or scream or draw her next breath, his mouth covered hers and his hands left her wrists, laying claim to her body. His touch was aggressive, greedy, as if he’d wanted the feel of her under his hands for too damn long to control himself, while his kisses were...mouthwatering. Slow, deep, and deliciously intimate, his tongue stroking and rubbing, while he ate at the shivery, needy sounds that she made. He’d only just started this...this...whatever this was, and she was already lost, sinking into the moment like a weighted body being pulled deeper and deeper into the sea. Drowning...no longer even trying to resist. She only wanted to fall deeper because she’d been just as desperately starved for the feel and touch and taste of him. She didn’t even remember moving her hands when he released her wrists, but they were fisted in his shaggy hair, the silky strands so warm and thick against her fingers. She pulled him tighter against her, lost in the slick, explicit kiss that made her think of his powerful body moving and thrusting into hers. It was that intense. That raw and hungry and achingly erotic.
When he pulled his head back and suddenly buried his face against the side of her throat, Carla gulped at the cool air, her lungs starved. He was rolling his hips against hers, one hand shoved up under her shirt and bra, molding her heavy breast, his thumb and forefinger pinching the throbbing nipple, while his other hand gripped her hip, jerking her against him. She crawled up his hard, rugged body and wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him what he wanted. He notched the thick, heavy ridge of his erection against her jeans-covered sex and thrust against her, stroking her clit at just the right angle, and she cried out as her head shot back, hitting the door, the husky sound of her shout echoing off the room’s dingy walls.
“Need it in my hand,” he growled against her throat, breathing hard, his voice little more than an animal’s primitive snarl. His mouth was directly over the place where he’d started to mark her all those years ago, and she wondered if he even realized. “I need it now, Rey.”
In a distant part of her mind, she knew this was...wrong. Foolish. Dangerous. To her heart and her pride. She wasn’t meant to fall into his arms...or crawl up his body, holding him as if she wanted to crawl right inside of him. Claim him. Keep him. Forever. She knew that, damn it, but it didn’t matter. When he was touching her, the hot, drugging scent of him filling her head, his exquisite taste on her lips, nothing else mattered but him. Needing him. Wanting him. Getting him.
“Please,” she heard herself beg, too desperate to even care that she was pleading with him. With the monster who had broken her heart. “God, Eli. Please!”
His lungs worked hard as he ripped at the buttons on her jeans, his mouth hot against her skin. His tongue stroked across her racing pulse point just as he shoved his hand into the front of her cotton panties, the fabric already drenched with her juices. His fingers delved, separating her slick folds, searching out the small, sensitive opening. He circled it, before pushing inside, working that long finger deep into her tender, clutching tissues while his thumb found the tiny knot of her clit and started playing it...stroking it...faster and faster. He pushed in a second finger, forcing her body to stretch and take it, and her hips rolled, needing them deeper. Needing to be full of him.
“Jesus, Rey. You’re just as tight and soft as I remember,” he groaned, each roughly spoken word laden with something, with some unnamed emotion, that made her want to scream at him for breaking her heart and destroying what they’d had. “I’ve fucking dreamed about this so many times.”
“Eli,” she gasped, sinking her nails into his shoulders, the pain in her heart momentarily forgotten as he used his fingers to drive her wild, thrusting them hard and deep, stretching her in a way that felt so good she could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, her throat shaking. She needed him inside her. Not just his fingers, but the thick, engorged shaft she could feel him grinding against her hip. Needed him on top of her, his body hard and heavy and hot against hers, while he shoved all those brutal inches inside her until she was clenching around him, milking him, lost in the most mind-blowing climax of her life.
Her sex was creamy and swollen and ripe, ready for whatever he wanted to give her. Fingers. Tongue. Cock. She was aching and desperate for every part of him, same as she’d been every night that she’d dreamed of him since he’d left her. Even years before then, when she’d wanted nothing more than for him to make her his, always waiting...and waiting. But he was fighting it. She could tell. Resisting with everything that he had, and it frightened her to think of why. Why she wasn’t enough for him. Why he’d always struggled against their connection with such ferocity.
Fight back! Resist! Damn it, she should be tossing the rejection she could feel coming right back in his face, but she...she couldn’t. As he touched her between her legs, his rough fingers stroking through those slick, plump folds with such perfect skill, making her gasp...arch...shiver, the only thing she was willing to fight for was more.
But as with everything else when it came to this man, she was destined to lose.
One moment his fingers were buried deep, bringing her to the cusp of a shattering orgasm, and in the next she was empty, his palm pressed tight against her sex, cupping her, holding her...and she could feel the smooth, hot slide of his fangs against her vulnerable throat. Ohmygod! Did he want to bite her? What on earth was going on with him?
His body was pressed so rigidly against hers, and she sensed his...pain. A visceral, devastating, burning agony. He cursed hoarsely, and she felt the first tremor that rocked through him, followed quickly by a second, until he was shaking so hard in her arms it made her teeth chatter.
“E-Eli?” she stammered through lips that were salty with her tears.
He quickly set her on her feet and pushed away from her with a choked roar, his eyes hooded and bright as he clenched his teeth. His dark brows were drawn with an emotion she could have sworn was anguish. Something had stopped him, but the bond was too weak and his emotions were too intense for her to read him clearly. Which was perhaps a good thing. Whatever had caused him to pull away from her, she had a feeling she wasn’t going to like it.
“What the hell, Eli? Are you—”
“Don’t! Don’t touch me!” he snarled, stumbling back from her when she started to reach for him. His gaze darted from side to side, reminding her of a trapped wolf desperate for escape.
She crossed her arms over her middle, determined to hold herself together. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he scraped out, sounding as if a brutal set of hands was crushing his throat. “Just...just go to bed, Carla. It’s late.”
“No. I want to know—”
“Just get in the damn bed!” he barked, brushing her aside so he could rip the door open. “And lock this damn thing behind me!”
He slammed out of the room then, and she reached out and slid the lock into place with a shaking hand, her thoughts reeling, and her body... Oh, God. Her body was vibrating...awakened. Misery crashed over her like a cold rain, and she shivered even harder, somehow making it to the bed. For the second night in a row, she crawled onto a lumpy mattress and curled into a ball, trying to block out everything until she was nothing more than molecules of air. Weightless. Floating. No pain or fear or emotions.
Carla tried to reach that feeling of nothingness with every ounce of her will, but it never came. As she lay there in the cold, depressing room, she just kept wanting and longing and aching...for things she would never have.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_7305efc4-4f1a-5489-b707-c538a910ab0d)
Her life since setting off in search of Eli Drake had been the worst kind of hell, and Carla had never been so eager to return to the Alley as she was now.
She’d skipped breakfast that morning because, well, rejection apparently killed her appetite. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders, and while she knew it was unforgivably stupid to have let her body do the thinking instead of her head, she was simply too tired to beat herself up over what had happened with Eli. Learn, regroup, and move on. That needed to be her motto, because if it wasn’t, she’d still be curled up in that crappy motel room bed, wishing for things that were useless. And oh so obviously bad for her.
As far as wake up calls went, the way Eli had walked out on her again had been a bruiser. But she was tough. She could take the hit and keep on going.
What she couldn’t do was let him get too close to her again. Work together? Fine, so long as she wasn’t alone with him. But kissing? Touching? Losing her head over him because her body craved him like he was freaking manna from heaven? Uh, no. That was not a part of her game plan. She would give herself last night as a freak moment of insanity after missing him as badly as she had, but no more. That’d been her last freebie. There wouldn’t be any others.
When they’d climbed into the truck that morning, both of them taking the backseat again, Eli had turned to her and asked, “Are you okay?” At her questioning look, he’d stiffly explained his concern. “I wasn’t thinking about the bullet graze last night. Did I hurt you?”
“My side is fine,” she’d murmured. He’d caused her pain, just not physically.
As if he’d read her mind, he’d said, “I wasn’t rejecting you, Rey. I was—”
“It doesn’t matter,” she’d cut in, watching the clouds through her window as the wind blew them across the sky like puffs of dandelion seeds. “I don’t care.”
“That’s a damn lie. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be hurt. And I’m sorry as hell that it happened, because I didn’t mean to hurt you. Not last night, and not before. That was the last thing that I... Damn it, I was trying to pro—”
Her head had whipped to the side so quickly her hair smacked her in the face. “If you say you were trying to protect me, I will get out of this truck and I won’t get back in it. Understood?”
“We need to talk about this,” he’d argued.
“No, we don’t need to do anything, because the time for talking was last night. Now you can just forget that anything ever happened.”
He’d muttered something under his breath that she didn’t catch, but didn’t say anything more when Kyle and Lev hopped in the front, the blond merc taking the first stint behind the wheel. She’d balled up a sweatshirt Kyle offered her, using it as a pillow, and slept.
Then, when they’d stopped for lunch a little while ago, she made sure to catch Eli alone before they entered the restaurant, and told him, “I don’t know what your problem is, and I don’t care. I just want you to know that what happened last night—that’s it, Eli. It doesn’t happen again. You don’t get to keep making me feel like a fool.”
She hadn’t waited around to get his reaction, heading inside to join the others. He’d come in a few minutes later, and passed on ordering anything, which had garnered some interested looks from his friends. Lev had lifted his brows at her, as if to say What’d you do to him? She’d shrugged in a I have no idea what his problem is kind of way, but the merc didn’t buy it, his sea-colored gaze filled with curiosity. Too drained to worry about any of it, she’d sucked down a few spoonfuls of soup and resumed her nap once they were all back on the road.
Or at least she’d tried to. Unfortunately, sleep eluded her for the second part of the day, and it wasn’t just Eli’s brooding presence that had her feeling so restless. It was the entire situation.
After so many days like this, cooped up in a vehicle, Carla was thankful her mother had never been the family vacation type. She was ready to chew her own arm off because she was so...so on edge. She felt trapped, like there wasn’t enough air in the cab for her to get a deep enough breath. And what air there was smelled like Eli, which did nothing to help her relax.
Needing to eat more often than human males because of their high metabolisms, the guys decided to stop for a late afternoon snack once they crossed into Maryland. They found a popular diner, and despite her foul mood, she bit back a grin at the reaction the mercs received as they walked to their table. The humans there might not know what the tall, good-looking mercenaries were, but they sensed there was something different about them, the way a vulnerable animal might sense the nearness of a beautiful, mesmerizing predator; the instinct to run battling against the desire to soak up the stunning view.
When they got back in the truck, Kyle said they needed fuel and pulled into a nearby gas station, while Sam pulled in behind him.
“I’m gonna grab some sodas for everyone to have on the road,” Lev said, getting out just as Kyle started pumping the gas.
Sitting in the backseat with Eli again, she knew she needed to make use of their privacy. There were things she needed to tell him before they reached the Alley in a few hours, and now was the perfect time.
Turning toward him, she asked, “Are you nervous about tonight?”
He hadn’t spoken to her since trying to explain himself that morning, remaining silent, his rugged jaw clenched tight, even when she’d stopped him outside the diner at lunch, telling him that last night would never have a repeat. He’d spent the day in a dark, dangerous mood, and now was no different. Keeping his gaze focused out his window, he responded to her question with nothing more than a slight shake of his head.
“I called Wyatt this morning, so they know to be expecting us at the Alley.”
This time, he nodded, still not looking at her.
Carla sighed, forcing herself to just get to the point. “Listen, Eli, there’s something I need to tell you before we get there, and now seems like the best time.”
He must have picked up on something in her tone, because he finally turned toward her, his dark eyes difficult to read as they connected with hers.
Rubbing her damp palms across her jeans, she said, “It’s about Elise, and I think you should know because...well, coming back is going to be hard enough for you as it is. I don’t think you need any more shocking revelations thrown in your face.”
His head cocked a bit to the side, his gaze sharpening. “What are you trying to tell me?”
She wet her lips, then slowly exhaled. “When Wyatt found El in Hawkley, he had a confrontation with Sebastian Claymore before he killed him. Wyatt told me that Sebastian admitted he was one of the wolves who raped Elise the night of her attack. It was him and Harris, and the one you killed—some guy named Danny. He was helping them make the gang rape drugs.”
He was breathing hard by the time she was done, and he lifted one of his big hands, shoving it back through his dark hair as his gaze skittered from one thing to the next—the front window, side window, the inches of leather seat between them that felt more like miles—his thoughts seeming to shift just as rapidly. A flush covered his cheekbones, seeming brighter for the way he’d paled, his tanned skin bleached of color. He worked his jaw a couple of times, cleared his throat, and spoke in a voice so rough, she almost couldn’t make out the quiet, guttural words. “Wyatt killed them?”
“Yeah. Well, he killed Sebastian. I think he said that Cian killed Harris. But there’s more.”
He kept his gaze locked on the back of the driver’s seat as he waited, his profile rigid.
“It was Roy Claymore who planned the whole thing. He used Elise as a test run for the rape drugs, which is why she was conscious during the attack, but couldn’t describe what they looked like to anyone. He, um, was also the last one to rape her.”
His head finally turned her way again, his dark, deadly gaze locking her in its grip as strongly as any physical touch could have held her. “And no one gutted the bastard?”
Understanding his frustration, she said, “They couldn’t get to him that day in Hawkley because of his security detail. But Wyatt put a bullet in Roy’s head. It didn’t kill him, but it would have caused him a lot of pain. With men like Eric and Wyatt gunning for his blood, he has to know his days are numbered.”
His head went back and he shoved the heels of his hands against his eyes, the muscles in his arms bulging beneath his tight skin as he worked his jaw like he was grinding his anger between his molars. The seconds stretched out, heavy with the tension and fury she could feel pulsing off him. Then he scraped out, “They blame me,” and she realized he was struggling with a hefty amount of guilt in addition to the blistering rage.
Not knowing what to say, she bit her lip, fighting the urge to reach out and stroke the broad, straining shoulder that was closest to her. He didn’t deserve her comfort, damn it. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t dying to give it to him, fool that she was.
“Eric—he hasn’t tried to contact me since the kidnapping.” His expression was anguished when he looked at her, making her chest tighten. “What other reason would he have for that? They blame me for not coming back sooner and helping to keep those sick bastards away from her.”
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