Blood Wolf Dawning

It took him six strides to reach her, and while she lowered the gun, she didn’t even try to run. Retracting his blood-drenched claws, he ripped the gun out of her hold and tossed it aside. Then he quickly gripped her upper arms, yanked her up onto her toes and roared, “What the hell, Sayre? I told you to stay inside the cabin!”

“Like I give a rat’s ass what you told me to do!” she shouted back at him.

“You got a death wish, little girl?” He got right in her face, his voice dropping to a sibilant hiss. “Because that was the dumbest move I’ve ever seen anyone make.”

Shaking with fury, she began using her power to try and make him release her, but he refused to budge. If he’d been human, the palms of his hands would have no doubt been blistered within a few seconds, unable to endure the searing burst of heat she was generating without letting go. He growled at her, but she didn’t so much as bat an eyelash, and he realized this female—his female—was a woman who would never cower before a man. Raging, intense pride and lust fired through his system, his blood thickening low in his body, while his heart thundered like something trying to break its way free.

With another rough, guttural growl, Cian forced himself to slowly set her back on her feet as he loosened his grip on her arms. He knew that if he didn’t put some distance between them right then, there was a strong chance he was going to take her to the moss-covered ground beneath their feet and drive himself so deep inside her he wouldn’t ever find his way back out.

“Who were those men?” she demanded, ripping out of his hold.

“My brother,” he grunted, only to realize that his words didn’t make any sense. “I mean, none of those men were Aedan. But I’m guessing they were working for him.”

She blinked up at him with dark, gold-tipped lashes. “What are you talking about? You don’t have a brother.”

“It’s a long story, but I’ll explain on the road.” Well, he’d explain some of it. No way in hell was he telling her everything.

“Cian.”

“Listen. Next time, he won’t send a bunch of human thugs. Those guys were just a game to him, Sayre. A message meant to let us know that he’s found you and has you in his sights. But he won’t play the game for long. Eventually, it will be him, in the flesh, and I know you don’t trust me, but you can believe me when I tell you that going head-to-head with Aedan isn’t something we could walk away from without paying for it first. Not here. Not alone.”

She cut her gaze to the side and frowned. “I—”

“Damn it, Sayre, look at me!” He worked his jaw as her narrowed gaze locked with his, then grated out, “I can’t let that happen. I won’t. I will throw you in my damn car and tie you up if I have to, though I’d rather you come on your own. I don’t want to hurt you, but there’s no way I’m letting you stay here. He’s not getting you.”

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. He could see the indecision shadowing her gaze, her intuition battling against her desire to be rid of him. He could understand her anger, but he couldn’t let it get in the way of keeping her alive.

“If not for yourself, then think about Jillian. About Jeremy and their kids,” he told her. Jillian had been pregnant when he’d left, so he knew the couple had at least one child. “You don’t think he’d go after them if he thought it would hurt you?”

Color leached from her face, making the spray of freckles across her nose stand out in stark relief. “What the hell do me and my family have to do with any of this?”

“He wants to hurt me, and he thinks you’re the way to do that.”

A bitter laugh burst from her pink lips, and she shook her head in disbelief. “Then he’s a fool. I didn’t even mean enough to you to fuck. I was just a troublesome little girl you wanted out of your way.”

Christ, she couldn’t have been more wrong, but he couldn’t tell her that. And he sure as hell couldn’t let himself think about that four-letter word that had just fallen from her lips—a word he’d never heard her say before. “Sayre, we don’t have time to argue. We need to be on the road ten minutes ago.”

She stared up at him as the seconds stretched out, each one seeming to last longer than a lifetime while his hands itched with the need to reach out and grab her so that he could get her to safety. “Fine,” she finally agreed, looking as if someone had just thrown her firstborn off a cliff. “I hate it, but I’m not going to cut off my nose to spite my face.”

“Smart girl,” he murmured with relief.

“Woman, Cian. Smart woman. I’m no longer a child.”

“Uh, yeah. Got it.” Then he tacked on a “sorry” for good measure.

Jabbing him in the center of his chest with her finger, she said, “You’re damned right you had better be sorry. Because this is all. Your. Fault!”

Guilt settled heavily in his gut, and he knew he needed to tread carefully. “I know, and I’m sorry. But can we please just get on the road?”

Shaking her head, she said, “No.”

“No?” He sucked in a sharp breath, struggling not to shout at her again. “I thought we just went over this.”

“I believe that you’ve landed me in the middle of a freaking problem, but that doesn’t mean I’m running back to the Alley. However—” her voice sounded like she’d swallowed a handful of razor blades as she held one hand up to him in a hold-it-right-there gesture “—I’m willing to let you come inside and talk to me.”

“I’m not letting you stay here alone, Sayre.”

“Then you had better not piss me off,” she huffed as she walked over to where he’d tossed her gun and picked it up, “because I was planning on letting you take the sofa until we have this figured out.”

Shit, he thought, shoving a hand back through his hair. Staying here wasn’t what he wanted. He needed her in the Alley, where he knew it would be easier to protect her. “It’s safer there, Sayre.”

With the gun propped on her shoulder, she turned back to him, her expression impossible to read. “That may be. But I’m not going to let you rush me into any decisions right now. I will give myself some time to process this, and then I’ll let you know what I’ve decided to do.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, dropping his head back on his shoulders, and counted back from ten.

“While you’re struggling with whatever’s going through that thick head of yours,” she told him, sounding as if she were gloating a bit, “I’ll just run inside and grab my keys, then take you down the road so that you can grab your car and bring it back here.”

Opening his eyes, Cian lowered his head and watched her walk away, wondering how she made the money to pay for the truck and the cabin, knowing she wasn’t the type to live off her parents. Then again, the truck that was parked beside the shed was fairly ancient, so he knew she hadn’t unloaded a ton of cash on it.

“You were wrong,” he said in a low voice, when she came back outside, keys in hand.

“About what?” she murmured, keeping her gaze focused straight ahead as she made her way over to the faded blue Ford.

“When I first saw you today,” he muttered, following after her, “you said we’d never lied to each other. But we did. I did. I lied to you all the time.”

She didn’t ask what he’d lied about as she opened the driver’s-side door and climbed behind the wheel, and he wondered if she knew.

He’d told her time and again that he didn’t want her.

And each time, it’d been a lie.

In his entire life, he’d never wanted anything like he wanted Sayre Murphy. In his bed. Under him. Completely full of him, his body packed so deeply into hers she could feel him in every part of her. Every cell and breath and thought.

He just didn’t want the rest of her.

The last thing in the world that Cian needed was a woman’s heart, because he knew exactly what he’d do to it. And while he might not love Sayre Murphy, he liked her too much to want to see her crushed, which is what would happen. It wasn’t arrogance or his ego talking; it was a simple fact. She was too young to clearly separate sexual need from higher emotion, and he knew that if he touched her, she’d likely end up thinking she was in love with him. Wasn’t there a saying about how hate and love were simply two sides of the same coin? So while she might hate him now, that feeling could be twisted into the other. After everything he’d done, he owed it to her to keep that from happening.

Does that mean you plan to keep your hands to yourself? his wolf demanded, prowling beneath his skin. ’Cause I gotta tell you, that doesn’t work for me. If given the chance, I plan on getting between those perfect thighs of hers and staying there, where we belong.

He made a gruff sound in the back of his throat, wishing the animal would just shut up and leave him alone.

And by the way, I still think you’re an idiot. Jackass.

Irritated, tired and at the end of his rope, his grip tightened on the passenger’s-side door handle until he’d nearly ripped it off, the beast’s guttural laughter echoing through his head as he climbed up into the truck. It knew it’d gotten under his skin, and he wondered if his friends all had this much trouble with the possessive predators who lived inside them, or if it were only him. Seemed just his luck that his wolf would not only be a pain of the first order, but a sarcastic son of a bitch, as well.

“Cian?” Sayre said as she cranked the engine and slid him a curious look. “Are you going to sit there growling at your door all day or are you going to shut it?”

He didn’t bother to respond. He didn’t dare. He didn’t trust anything that might have come out of his mouth at that moment, and his pulse was thrashing in his ears too loudly to carry on a conversation anyway.

Instead, he slammed the door shut, rolled the window down and focused his attention on the surrounding woods, knowing that Aedan could very well be out there, watching and waiting, slowly biding his time. The human thugs had been his brother’s first play, but they wouldn’t be his last.

And now the clock was ticking.

Chapter 4

As soon as he parked the Audi behind Sayre’s truck and climbed out, a terrible sense of doom settled over Cian, hanging around his shoulders like a leaden weight. It sounded embarrassingly dramatic, but there was no denying the emotion. It was like a thundering death knell echoing in his head, warning him that nothing about this situation was going to end in the way that he wanted it to. He knew, damn it...and yet, he couldn’t turn back.

Instead, he simply followed her into the small cabin, doing his best to keep his attention focused on their surroundings and not on how tight her little ass looked in those too-short-for-his-sanity shorts.

Seriously? You sound like an old man who doesn’t even know how to get it up anymore.

“Fuck off,” he muttered under his breath, mentally giving his wolf the finger. It wasn’t a question of not being able to get it up. It was knowing how quickly she’d have his friggin’ balls kicked in if he let the sight of her in those shorts take hold of him.

While she closed the door behind them, he did a quick survey of the room. The cabin was built with an open floor plan, the walls lined with row upon row of packed bookshelves, the bindings on the books creased from use. A hallway on the right led to what he assumed would be her bedroom and the bathroom, the kitchen located off to their left. There was a high-tech sound system on a small table in the corner of the main room, but no television. If she watched movies, it was likely on her computer or iPad, and he recalled Jillian once talking about her sister’s penchant for comedies.

A scowl twisted his brow as he tried to recall the last comedy he’d watched. It’d no doubt been something he’d caught down at one of the cinemas in the human town of Covington with Brody before he’d left, but he couldn’t remember the title. Just that he hadn’t felt like he got even half of the jokes, and he’d hated how old that’d made him feel.

He hated it even more now, when there was a so-beautiful-she-hurt-his-eyes twenty-three-year-old walking away from him as she headed toward the kitchen. She would probably laugh her ass off if she knew he’d “technically” be pushing fifty in a few years.

His body might be young—he halted the aging process when consuming blood as one of his main food sources—but his spirit felt freaking ancient, as if he’d lived three times that long.

As she washed her hands at the kitchen sink, she looked at him from over her shoulder, eyeing his blood-spattered jeans and T-shirt, and jerked her head in the direction of the small hallway. “You’re messier than I am. Why don’t you go ahead and grab your shower? It’s the first door on your left. Towels are under the sink.”

Taking a few steps toward the kitchen, he said, “Actually, I should go and bury the bodies first.”

She turned around as she dried her hands on a towel, blinking back at him with those big, storm-colored eyes. “Um...of course. I wasn’t...I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

Because she wasn’t a natural born killer, like he was. And because she was also probably a bit in shock, after everything that had happened. She might have grown up in the hard, often brutal world of the Silvercrest, but Sayre Murphy had always been a dreamer at heart. And dreamers weren’t the kind of girls who were accustomed to burying three dead bodies out in the woods behind their homes.

“Is there a shovel in your shed?”

She pulled her lower lip through her teeth and nodded.

The sight of her white teeth on that plush lip had him sweating, and he cleared his throat a little as he swiped his arm over his forehead. “Then you go ahead and grab your shower,” he told her, the roughness of his voice telling him he needed to get back outside and cool the hell off. “This won’t take me long.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “Don’t you need help?”

Shaking his head, he said, “I’m not letting you anywhere near them, Sayre. But I won’t go too far. I’ll be close enough that I can hear you if you need me.”

He turned and walked back outside before she could say anything more, and pulled in a deep breath of the humid air as he headed for the shed. A half hour later, he was shoveling the last scoops of dirt over the place where he’d buried the bodies, the grave situated between two thick blackberry bushes that would quickly grow over it. He’d checked all three males’ clothing before putting them in the ground, looking for anything that might give him a clue about Aedan’s plans, but wasn’t surprised when the search turned up nothing. His half brother might be seriously twisted, but he was too smart to make a dumb-ass mistake by trusting anyone like these jackasses with vital information. That was why Cian hadn’t bothered to keep one of them alive for questioning.

That...and the fact that he’d been too bloody furious to let them live.

After putting the shovel away in the shed, Cian made his way back inside the cabin, locking the door behind him. He couldn’t hear the water running, so he knew Sayre was out of the shower. The sound of a hair dryer clicking on told him she’d be busy for a while longer, so he washed his hands in the kitchen, then went through the French doors that opened onto a small deck and took out his phone. After scrolling through his contacts, he called Brody’s cell phone number.

Within two rings, the Runner answered the call. “Where the hell are you? I thought you were bringing her back.”

“That’s still the plan,” he said in a low voice, unsure how much of this shit storm he should explain over the phone. “But it looks like we’re staying here tonight.”

Brody exhaled a rough breath. “I told you she wouldn’t do it.”

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t have a choice. We ran into some trouble, which I’ve handled, but this place isn’t safe enough for her in the long term. I need her in the Alley, with all of your full security measures in place.”

“I’ve sent Michaela up to Shadow Peak with our kids, since you wouldn’t tell me what’s going on. And I’ve told Jillian to stay up there, as well, right now. The others are going to stay down in South Carolina until we know it’s safe for them to return with their families.”

“That’s good,” he murmured, wondering what had kept Jillian behind. Had the witch had a premonition that her sister would need her?

Brody’s next words pulled his attention back to the conversation. “Max and Elliot have been out on a Bloodrun, but they’ll be back in the morning. And the mercs have been working a job over in Tennessee, but they’re expected back in the next day or two. So we’ll have security covered, and I’ll have the scouts from up in Shadow Peak double their patrols. But we need to know what we’re dealing with.”

At the mention of the mercs, Cian’s already tensed muscles coiled even tighter, and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. The mercenaries were four badass warriors who had worked with Eli Drake for years, and had decided to stick around once Eli had returned to the Alley and married Carla Reyes, the only female Runner in the group.

“This silence is getting kind of tiring, man. You there?” Brody asked.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he muttered, keeping a careful eye on the surrounding forest.

“You ready to tell me what’s going on?”

He swallowed so hard he could feel the movement all the way down his throat. “This...it’s not something I want to get into over the phone, Brody.” Hell, it was something he’d rather avoid altogether. But that wasn’t going to be an option. “And before you try to argue, don’t. You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

Brody’s deep voice was gruff with frustration. “Yeah, well, it was easier to trust you before you disappeared for five years.”

He bit back a guttural curse, knowing there wasn’t anything he could say to that particular piece of truth. Part of him was eager to prove to his friends that he was still the same man he’d been before, while another part kept wondering what the point would be, when he would only leave again when it was all said and done.

“Cian, man, I’m serious. You better talk to me or you won’t be welcome back in the Alley. I hate to say that, but I don’t know where your head is anymore.”

He scrubbed his free hand down his face, his insides knotting. So many emotions roiled through him, clashing like warring, blood-drenched sides on a battlefield, that it was impossible to keep them straight. “I swear I’ll tell you everything when we get back. I just...” He worked his jaw as his words dried up, hating that he couldn’t simply avoid this problem forever. With a tired sigh, he said, “In all honesty, Brody, I need some time to figure out how to say it all.”

Silence met his admission, followed by a rough, quiet burst of words. “It’s that bad?”

“Yeah. But I won’t leave you in the dark. I give you my word on that.”

“Then we’ll talk when you get back,” Brody muttered. “But I need to know if Sayre is okay. Jillian gave Mic and me an earful for not warning the girl that you were coming for her. Jilly’s been trying to get her on her cell phone, but Sayre won’t take the calls. Just texted back that she was fine and would be in touch later.”

“She’s good. Pissed, but she’s all right.”

“Okay then. You need any backup on the road when you head back?”

Unable to resist having her all to himself for just a little longer, he said, “Thanks for the offer, but I think we’ve got a few days before we need to worry.”

“Then keep me updated.”

“I will. And stay sharp. There’s no reason for you to see any trouble when she’s not there, but it’s better to be safe.”

“On it,” the Runner murmured, then disconnected the call. Shoving the phone in his pocket, Cian walked back inside just as the bathroom door clicked open, releasing a wave of warm, Sayre-scented air into the cabin. He couldn’t see into the hallway from where he stood, but what was probably her bedroom door snapped shut a moment later. He debated going back outside for a smoke, but decided to simply wait her out, loving the way that intoxicating scent was filling his lungs, working its way through his system.

He spent the next moments looking over the titles on her bookshelves, surprised she was into gritty suspense novels, many of the books ones he’d already read. He lost track of time as he walked around the room, soaking up all the telling details like a sponge with water, hoarding them in his mind. They were like tiny clues that he needed to unlock the mystery of her life, his brain cataloguing everything from the scent of her candles to the type of pen she’d left sitting on top of a notebook. The sofa was off-white and deep, his mind easily picturing her cuddled up among the matching throw pillows with a book, while the evening sunlight touched on the feminine curves of her body. The sensual slope of a shoulder. The lithe shape of her thighs. He stood in the middle of the room, each breath drawing more of her provocative scent into his lungs, while his hands flexed and released at his sides. His tension just kept winding tighter...and tighter, until he nearly stumbled from the jolt of hunger that slammed into him when she came back into the room a few minutes later.

Christ, he thought as he got a good look at her. Is she trying to kill me?

The cutoffs had been exchanged for a pair of jeans that hugged her curves like a second skin, her tight black T-shirt molding to a pair of breasts so perfect they made his mouth water. Her skin was still dewy and pink from the shower and the sun, and he had to physically hold himself back from her. Had to fight the animalistic urge to yank her against him and run his tongue up the slender column of her throat, taking all that salty warmth into his mouth. Summer heat had never looked so good on a woman, and he knew he needed to get out of there before he did something stupid.

“Shower’s all yours,” she told him, her gaze focused on the base of his throat instead of his eyes.

“Thanks.” His voice was gruff, but he couldn’t help it. She’d taken a step toward him, bringing her into the last wash of sunlight that spilled through one of the front windows, the shimmering beams highlighting the strips of gold buried in all those waves of strawberry-blond. He wanted to search out every strand...wind the long skeins around his fist...and hold her tight. Pull her to him. Into his arms. Until she was trapped there.

And that’s my cue to get the hell out of here.

Grabbing the leather bag he’d left by the front door, Cian headed toward the bathroom without so much as another glance in her direction. But it was hardly any better once he was alone in the tiny white-tiled room. Her scent lingered in the steamy air, and he pressed his shoulders against the door as he dropped the bag on the floor, his head pressed back against the wood as he squeezed his eyes shut and clawed on to every ounce of self-control he could find. He needed it like an alcoholic standing before an open bar, the shiny bottles tempting him with drink me...drink me...drink me. Though in his case, the words were coming from Sayre’s soft lips, her husky voice curling around him like sensual tendrils of heat.

It actually hurt a part of him deep inside to be near her like this. And, yeah, it’d been pure hell to be so far away from her for so long. But this...Jesus. This was torture on a level he’d never experienced before, and he still hadn’t managed to get a handle on the right way to deal with it.

He ended up taking the coldest shower of his life, knowing if he lingered he was liable to take matters into his own hands. And he instinctively knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Fifteen minutes later, when Cian headed back out into the living room, it felt like he was walking into some kind of surreal new reality that didn’t fit in his world. The delicious scent of sizzling vegetables and Asian spices drifted to his nose, and he looked toward the kitchen, surprised to see Sayre standing with her back to him as she stirred something in a pan on the stove.