A Hunger So Wild

Page 4

An arm shot out and grabbed him. “What the fuck are you waiting for?”
Elijah paused and turned, facing the brawny male whose eyes glowed in the shadows of the cave. The lycan was bristling and half shifted, his arms and neck covered in a grayish pelt.
The beast in Elijah growled a warning, but he held it in check, a control that made him Alpha.
“Are you chal enging me, Nicodemus?” he asked with dangerous softness. He’d been waiting for this, had known it was coming. It would be only the first of many chal enges until he established his dominance through physical prowess in addition to a lycan’s instinctive need to fol ow a leader.
The lycan’s nostrils flared, his chest heaving as he fought against his beast. Lacking Elijah’s control, Nic would lose.
Prying the man’s grip from his arm, Elijah said, “You know where to find me.”
Then he turned his back to the chal enge and walked away, deliberately baiting Nic’s beast. The sooner they got this over with the better.
Nic had asked him what he was waiting for. He was waiting for cohesion, trust, loyalty—the cementing framework that would hold al the packs together. Greater numbers or not, there was no way they’d win against a tightly commanded elite military unit like the Sentinels if they didn’t work together.
A female approached him at a near run, agitation radiating from her tense frame. “Alpha,” she greeted him, quickly introducing herself as Sarah.
“You have a visitor. A vampire.”
His brows rose. “A vampire? As in one?”
“Yes. She asked for the Alpha.”
Elijah’s curiosity was more than piqued. The lycans had been created by the Sentinels for the sole purpose of hunting and containing the vampires. The fact that the lycans had revolted from Sentinel control didn’t mean they’d forgotten their ingrained hatred of bloodsuckers. For a vamp to walk into a den alone was suicidal.
“Show her to the great room,” he said.
Sarah turned and ran back the way she’d come, with Elijah and Stephan fol owing at a more sedate pace.
Stephan shook his head. “What the fuck?”
“The vamp’s desperate, for some reason.”
“Why is that our problem?”
Shrugging, Elijah said, “Could be our gain.”
“Do we real y want to become a safe house for bloodsucking losers?”
“Let me get this straight: we rebel and we’re better off, but a vampire bolts and they’re a loser?”
Stephan scowled. “You know as wel as I do that the pack won’t take in vamps.”
“Times have changed. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re pretty damned desperate, too.”
Elijah was stepping over the threshold into the great room when he heard the growl behind him. Lunging forward, he shifted into his lupine form before his paws hit the rock floor. He whirled around at the same moment he was charged by Nicodemus, taking a ful -on ramming in the side that knocked the wind from him. Rol ing over, he regained his feet, righting himself in time to catch his chal enger by the throat mid-leap. With a toss of his head, Elijah threw the other lycan across the room. Then he howled his fury, the sound reverberating through the massive room.
Nic skidded sideways on his paws, then found traction and attacked again. Elijah rushed forward to intercept him.
They col ided with brutal force, their jaws snapping for purchase. Nic caught him by the foreleg and bit hard. Elijah went for the flank, his teeth digging in deep, his beast growling at the heady taste of hot, rich blood.
Kicking off his attacker, Elijah turned, ripping a chunk of flesh away. Nic yelped and came back around, limping. Elijah crouched, prepared to leap, when the lush scent of ripe cherries slid across his senses in teasing tendrils. The fragrance swept through him, burning through his blood and sending aggression pumping through his veins.
He was abruptly sick of playing with Nicodemus. Elijah vaulted ahead, twisting midair to avoid Nic’s snarling maw and coming down on the lycan’s back. Catching him by the throat, Elijah pinned him to the floor, his jaws clenched tight enough to wound and warn but not enough to kil . Yet.
Just the slightest increase in pressure would cut off Nic’s air.
Nic writhed for a few moments, his limbs flailing in an effort to shake off his opponent. Then blood loss and exhaustion stole his strength. He whimpered for his release and Elijah let him go.
Elijah’s low growl rumbled through the room. He turned, his gaze meeting those of every lycan in the cave. They stood around the perimeter, their gazes lowering quickly as he dared al comers.
Satisfied that he’d made his point for the moment, he shifted and faced the arched entry to the great room, his attention riveted to that ripe, sweet scent that was making his dick hard.
“Get me a change of clothes,” he said to the cave at large, not caring who did it, just that it got done. “And a damp towel.”
He’d barely finished speaking when she appeared, looking just as he remembered her—black high-heeled boots, black Lycra bodysuit that clung to every curve, scarlet red hair that fel to her waist, and pearly white fangs. She looked like something out of a BDSM-laced wet dream and he wanted to fuck her nearly as badly as he wanted to kil her. The lust was instinctual and unwelcome; the fury was laced with grief and pain. She’d kil ed his best friend in a slow, agonizing death while trying to get to him, mistakenly believing he’d murdered her friend Nikki, a vampress who’d also been Syre’s daughter-in-law.
Be careful what you wish for, bitch.
Baring his teeth in a semblance of a smile, he said her name. “Vashti.”
Her gaze narrowed as she picked up his scent. “You.”
Shit.
Vash stared at the naked, blood-spattered lycan standing across the room from her and her fists clenched. The lack of the familiar weight of her sword sheaths on her back had already been driving her nuts, but now it pissed her off.
He’d kil ed her friend, and he was going to pay.
She stalked closer, her booted heels clicking across the uneven stone floor. They lived in a goddamn cave and fought among themselves like animals. Fucking dogs. She’d tried for days to talk Syre out of this fool’s errand, but the vampire leader would not be swayed. He believed the old “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” She might’ve agreed with that if they were talking about anyone but lycans.
“The name is Elijah,” he corrected, watching her with the focused gaze of a natural hunter zeroing in on its prey.
Another male approached him with a towel in one hand and clothes in the other. Elijah took the towel and began to wipe the blood from his mouth and jaw. His gaze never left hers as the cloth moved across his broad chest and arms.
Vash found her attention reluctantly drawn to the stroking of white terry cloth over golden skin. He was ripped with powerful muscles from head to toe, beautiful y defined in a way she couldn’t help but appreciate. There wasn’t an ounce of extraneous flesh on him and his virility was unquestionable, even without his display of impressive cock and weighty testicles. His scent was in the air, an earthy yet exhilarating fragrance of clove and bergamot that was rich with male pheromones.
He handed the towel to the lycan standing next to him, then stroked his long, thick penis from root to tip.
“Like what you see?” he taunted in a deep, rumbling voice that affected her physical y. Blood oozed from a nasty gash in his calf, the scent so delicious her mouth watered for a taste of it.
She forced her gaze to lift from his groin with insolent leisure. “Just marveling that you don’t smel like wet dog.”
His nostrils flared. “You smel like sacrificial lamb.”
Vash laughed softly. “I’m here to help you, lycan. You’re safe while you’re underground. But you’l have to surface at some point, and beneath the open sky is where the angels wil slaughter you al . Since you’re already fighting among yourselves, you won’t have a chance in hel against Adrian’s Sentinels without al ies.”
The lycans around the room rumbled their disgust at the very idea. She raised her voice and spoke to the assembly at large. “I absolutely agree with you. I don’t want to work with you either.”
“Yet you came when Syre sent you,” Elijah said, stepping into a loose pair of jeans. “Walked straight into a wolf’s den at his order.”
She faced him again, her chin lifting. “We’re more civilized than you, lycan. We know the value of a hierarchy of power.”
He approached her, his barefooted stride sleek and predatory. The tight roping of muscles over his abdomen flexed as he walked, riveting her gaze. A surge of heat moved through her as his scent grew stronger.
Fuck. She’d been celibate too long if a lycan could make her hot.
Her hands fisted as he stopped in front of her. Too close. Invading her personal space. Trying to intimidate her with his powerful body and sharply edged hunger. She saw his need in his eyes and smel ed the enticing pheromones in the air around him. He hated her, yet he desired her.
Despite her height and heels, Vash had to tilt her head back to look up at him. “Just tel me to fuck off and I’m out of here. I only agreed to present the offer. I real y don’t want you to accept.”
“Ah, but I have no intention of turning you down until you go into the details.” He caught a lock of her hair between his fingers and rubbed it. “And I want to see your face when you find out I didn’t kil your friend.”
Her breath caught. She told herself it was from surprise and not from the feel of his knuckle brushing over her breast. “My sense of smel is damn near as good as yours.”
One side of his mouth lifted in a cruel smile. “Did you check my blood sample for anticoagulants?”
She stepped back in a rush. She knew the Sentinels kept samples of every lycan’s blood in cryogenic storage facilities at the lycan outposts, but she hadn’t considered that those samples might be vulnerable to abuse. “What the fuck?”
“I was set up. You, however, are guilty of kil ing my friend. Hopeful y you remember him, since his murder signed your death warrant. The redhead you pinned to a tree and left for dead?”
He circled her. Dozens of pairs of emerald eyes watched her with open hostility. The chances of getting out of the cave alive diminished to zero.
“If you kil me now,” she warned, “you’l have both the vamps and Sentinels after you.”
“That’s problematic,” he murmured, rounding her shoulder from the back.
“But there’s something I want more than my life. If you help me get it, I’l let you kil me in a way that looks like self-defense.”
Elijah stopped in front of her again. “I’m listening.”
“Clear the room.”
With a wave of his arm, he gestured everyone out.
“Alpha…?” Stephan questioned.
“Don’t worry,” Elijah said. “I can take her.”
She snorted. “You can try, puppy. Don’t forget I have a few eons on you.”
In less than a minute, the room was emptied.
“I’m waiting,” he said, his eyes glittering dangerously.
“One of your dogs kil ed my mate.” Familiar rage and pain raced through her veins like acid. “If you think what I did to your friend was bad, it was nothing compared to what was done to Charron. You help me find the ones responsible and let me kil them, I’m al yours.”
His gaze narrowed. “How do you plan on finding these lycans? What are you looking for?”
“I have the date, time, and place. I just need to know who was in the area then. I can narrow it down from there.”
“Such bloodthirsty loyalty.”
She turned her head to look at him. “I could say the same about you.”
“You’d have to stay with me,” he pointed out. “I expect to be present anytime you question a pack member. It could take days, maybe weeks.”
The scent of his lust grew stronger by the moment and she—damn it al —wasn’t immune.
“I’ve been searching for years. A few weeks more won’t kil me.”
“No, but I wil . Eventual y. In the meantime, I don’t have to like you,” he said softly, “to want to fuck you.”
She swal owed hard, damning the elevated rate of her pulse, which she knew he could hear. “Of course not. You’re an animal.”
He circled her again, leaning in and inhaling deeply. “What’s your excuse?”
She had none, which was screwing with her head. In al the years since Char had been kil ed, the need for sex had been less than an itch. But she wasn’t about to confess that he was getting to her in a way no man had since her mate. Especial y when she was certain her reaction had less to do with him than with her own anxiety at being in a den ful of creatures she hated without a weapon on her back. With her fangs and claws, she could take down a half-dozen lycans; with Charron’s twin katanas, she could hold her own against a legion. Only Char himself could rival her skil with the swords. “No excuses necessary. I’m a heterosexual woman and you’re an exhibitionist who likes to fondle his big dick. The show had its merits.”
He bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile and crossed his arms. “What does Syre want in return for protection from the Sentinels?”
Vash studied him, noting his wide-legged stance and uplifted chin. He was a solid, anchoring presence. She could almost imagine him remaining an immovable object in the midst of a tornado. Although his rage was a tangible force, battering her senses along with his desire, his beautiful emerald eyes were shadowed with pain. Whatever else he was, Elijah was loyal. If he was trustworthy as wel , he could be an asset to the vampire nation. And to her.
Her arms crossed in mimicry of his pose. She watched his eyes dip to the vee of her neckline and his jaw clench. He didn’t want to want her. That made her smile inwardly. She’d been using her sexuality as a weapon since Charron died; she was as deadly with it as she was with a blade.