Jacob's Faith

Page 5

Hawke sighed, his attention momentarily diverted as a shadow moved along the end of the bar. His eyes widened, a shiver danced over his spine as his acute sense of smell picked up the animal that had moved closer. Perhaps not an animal, no more than he was himself, Hawke knew, but this was a prime male. His dark brown hair lay thick and heavy along his shoulders, pale blue eyes watched the scene with interest.
He lounged against the bar, clearly determined to be of no help at all despite his obvious link with Faith. And there was a link. The male across the room carried the same scent that Hawke often caught when he came too close to Faith. The smell was dark and elusive, a warning. A mark that Faith belonged to another, to the man making no move at all to save her. Hawke had finally led Faith to her mate, and he had a feeling Jacob wasn’t too pleased with his efforts either.
* * * * *
Jacob grimaced as Faith’s body tensed for the coming fight, her attention focused on the six men who were determined to rape her. Her body, lean and fit, lightly muscled and honed to peak condition was still small, fragile looking. The male with her was prepared as well, casting Jacob another look, this one filled with a message. Jacob smiled and shook his head, grunting at the fury that washed over the other man’s expression.
This new Faith was an enigma. He tilted his head, watching her, seeing irritation and impatience reflecting in her face. The savage pleasure of the coming fight was absent, but it was still something she was looking forward to. She was testing herself, he thought. Pitting some inner anger, a desperate surge of emotion against the bastards who dared to get in her way. It was—arousing—to watch. Her companion on the other hand, seemed more than worried.
Jacob had no intentions of letting Faith get hurt. If it even looked as though she was about to break a nail on the bastards she was fighting, he would rip their throats out. That was his woman. His blood mate. His teeth had marked her skin, her blood had filled his mouth as she screamed out beneath him. That was no small thing. The time in between then and now didn’t matter. Whether her scream was of pleasure or pain, was beside the point. Fact was fact. She was his. And as he watched her, he realized he was tired of waiting for her. Tired of needing her. Damn her to hell, it was time to rid her gaze of the fear it held each time she looked at him. If he could keep his control long enough to show her the tenderness he wanted so deeply to give her.
Getting past her fears may prove to be difficult. He had hurt her that night in the Labs, he knew he had. The effects of the drugs they had given her, and the overpowering scent of her lust had driven him past any thought of control. Any thought of tenderness. But he was tired of waiting. He had realized that after he left the Pack again, six months before. He was growing tired of waiting, of hoping she would forgive him and cease to fear him. He had slowly given up. But now, she was here and he would claim what was his. That is, after he got her away from that damned male shadowing her.
Hawke. That was all he went by. The Pack he had been born to was now under Wolfe’s control after Wolfe, Aiden and Jacob had destroyed the Labs where they were being held before extermination.
His few conversations with Wolfe assured him that Hawke was an able enough fighter, and a hell of a manipulator. As an Enforcer, one of the elite members of the Pack and charged with the security and protection of the growing numbers of Wolf Breeds, Hawke was known for his savagery and loyalty to the Pack.
Jacob sighed. He hoped to hell Hawke wasn’t fucking pretty little Faith. He would hate to have to kill the other man, but that tempting bit of woman was his now. She had dared to come looking for him, and now she had found him. He figured it was as good a time as any to finish what had tormented him for six long years. He couldn’t forget her, couldn’t let her go, and he was damned tired of waking deep in the night, hot and hungry for her.
“Do you need help, Faith darlin’?” he called out, wondering if she was aware he was there.
For a moment, silence filled the room. A sense of waiting as all eyes turned to him.
“You finally decide to show up, asshole?” she asked him, the tense amusement in her voice almost hiding her nervousness.
“Your language has deteriorated, I can see,” he told her as he lifted a bottle of whisky from the bar and motioned to the bartender for a glass. “Should I await your pleasure, baby, or help you along here?”
He heard her snort at his choice of words. A defiant sexy sound that made his erection throb in anticipation.
“They’re worms. Give me five minutes and I’ll be right with you.” He almost winced at the thread of excitement that wove through her voice.
That little throb of expectation hadn’t been there before she learned he was watching the game displayed before him. She was a woman now, confident; she thought she was in control. That knowledge filled her voice and the loose-limbed, prepared stance of her body. Had he somehow been wrong all these years? Had Faith grown up, had she gotten past that long ago night and the pain he had dealt her?
He poured a double shot of the whisky. He had a feeling he was going to need it. For all the interest he had in the changes that had overtaken her, it was still a battle not to wade in and kill the stupid humans who thought they could mark what was his.
“You stay out of this, gringo,” one of the men warned him tightly, his scarred face twisted into a sneer. “This one, she is ours.”
The guttural, rough English of the Romeo wannabe had Jacob grimacing. He downed the liquid in his glass, wincing at the burn as it hit his throat.
“Go for it.” He waved the glass towards them. “If you can take it.”
As though his permission was all that was required, the six attacked. Jacob forgot the glass and tilted the bottle to his mouth as Faith and Hawke met the surge of sweaty, dirty bodies that converged on them. If he didn’t dull the rage boiling inside him, then there was no way he would manage to let Faith take care of this little problem herself.
He turned, leaning back against the bar, and watched with narrowed eyes. Growls, human and canine filled the room. Surprised cries of male pain followed, as Faith became an animalistic fighting machine. And Hawke was no slouch. With a mix of Asian fighting techniques, dirty grassroots redneck kicks, and snarling teeth, the two Breeds fought the determined lusts of the South America bullies.
It wasn’t a pretty fight. Jacob tipped the bottle to his mouth, his fingers clenched, his body filled with the need to kill as one bastard fought to hold Faith down to a table. A knee to the groin, and the flat of her palm to his nose convinced him otherwise. In surprise, Jacob watched as the two hundred plus pounds of male crumpled to the floor. He lifted his brows in amazement as the man then stayed there. One down, five to go. She’d better hurry, the stink of their lust was making him crazy to jump in and destroy them.
“Bastard. That was a new jacket,” Faith cursed as Jacob heard the rend of cloth.
A shattered male scream followed. Angling his head to see better, he grimaced at the white knuckled grip she had on one man’s crotch. She twisted. The bastard paled and went to his knees as she released him, crumpling over as he began to vomit disgustingly.
Faith was like a wild woman. She ignored the two men Hawke was fighting off, and faced the two who came at her from each side. Pride filled him as a slender leg kicked out at one. Chest shot. Jacob had a feeling, seeing the power behind that kick, that the ole boy just might not survive that one. He went down hard. Hawke’s two followed similar fates. The last one, the largest and the instigator of the attack, began to back away from the two slowly, a dawning horror on his face revealing knowledge he shouldn’t have had.
“Demons,” he muttered before turning and running.
“Well, hell,” Jacob drawled as he stood to his feet and moved purposely for the door. “Let’s get the hell out of here before the local soldiers get in on the fun.” Not to mention before his cock managed to bust his straining zipper. Watching that ass twitch and bunch was going to kill him.
Chapter Four
Jacob pushed Faith out the door of the bar, leaving Danson and Hawke to follow. Inside, it sounded as though the whole place was erupting into a fight. Nothing surprising, Faith knew. Too much alcohol, too much testosterone. The combination was sure to cause trouble.
“Took you long enough to show up,” Faith bit out as he rushed her to the dirty black SUV parked behind the bar.
His arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her close to his larger body as he pulled her to the parking lot. Now wasn’t the time for her damned lust to spark and turn on full force, yet she felt it heating, moistening her, preparing her for him.
“Danson, take Faith’s buddy with you. I’ll call in the morning. Hide deep. I don’t have time to bust your asses out of the local lockup,” Jacob called back, his voice dark, violent as the hand riding low on her back pushed her faster to the vehicle
“Hey wait, that’s my partner,” Faith protested as Hawke followed Danson quickly to a matching vehicle. “Damned traitor.”
“Get in.” He opened the door and pushed her into the dusty seat quickly before moving to the driver’s side and jumping in. “We don’t have time to argue over it.”
Faith snarled. Bossy.
Jacob started the vehicle up and accelerated quickly from the parking lot. They were on the main road, heading out of town when sirens flashing on a disreputable sedan rushed past them.
Breathing out a hard sigh, she glanced over at her reluctant rescuer. Damn him, he was as handsome as he always had been. His shoulders were broad, clothed in a dark T-shirt that conformed to every line of the lean muscles beneath it. His muscular chest tapered to powerful hips and thighs.
His hair was thick and such a dark brown it was nearly black. It framed the hard contours of his features, fell to his shoulders and raked back from his face with careless fingers. In profile, his features were savage, relentless. With high cheekbones, a straight, arrogant nose, and lips that were just shy of full. He had sinfully kissable lips. They made her mouth water.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he finally bit out, dragging her away from her admiration of his male form as he checked the rearview mirror to be certain that the local police weren’t turning back. “Were you looking to get raped, Faith?”
He flashed her a brooding look. He looked sulky and sexy all at once. A prime male, irritated and put out, and just a little aroused. Or a lot aroused if the bulge she had glimpsed in those jeans earlier meant anything.
“Looking for you.” She leaned back in the seat, crossing her arms over her breasts as he maneuvered through the narrow back streets of the small town. “What the hell are you doing here? You know I’ve been looking for you for over two months now? Every time I was certain I had found you, you were gone again. And no, Jacob, I wasn’t looking to get gang raped, as you should well know.”
He shot her a hooded look. Faith decided she didn’t care much for that look. The way his eyes glittered from beneath his lowered lashes affected her too much. For a moment, she remembered the Labs, the lust, white hot and violent as the pleasure tore through her body.
She took a deep breath. The mark at her neck, the wound that never healed, throbbed at the remembrance. There was a corresponding pulse in her vagina, and the smooth slide of slick readiness. She didn’t need this. She had fought to forget him for six years. To forget the memory of his touch, the hunger and lust that rose like an inferno as his cock pushed deep inside her anal entrance. The memory of the sheer dominance of the act, the incredible sensuality of it, left her shaking in reaction.
“Are you fucking Hawke?” His voice was a rough rumble as he asked the question.
Shock and surprise flared in her at the abrupt question. She felt more than a little insulted at the rough accusation she heard in his voice.
“What business is that of yours?” she bit out. “You have no rights over me, Jacob. Even Wolfe doesn’t ask me anything that personal.”