Charming the Beast (Purgatory #3)(11)
Author: Cynthia Eden

He was a walking, talking boogeyman, and when she woke, he knew Chloe would probably run screaming…from him.

Chapter Four

“Chloe.”

Her name pushed through the fog that seemed to surround her.

“Come on, Chloe, you’re worrying me. You’ve been out way too long.” She felt fingers stroking her cheek. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

She was afraid to open her eyes. She knew that was Connor’s voice, but where they actually were—what had happened to them—she was kind of confused about all that.

“You’re safe,” he told her, his voice almost gentle. “No one here is going to hurt you.”

She cracked open one eye. Saw Connor leaning over her. His expression showed his worry. She cracked open her other eye.

He exhaled. “Good. I was starting to think they’d hit you with—”

Chloe shot up in the bed. It was an old bed, narrow, sagging, and Connor was right beside her. A blood-covered Connor was beside her. Her hands flew over his shirt. “You’re hit! The silver—oh, Connor, you’re—” Well, warm. Strong beneath her fingers. “You’re…okay?”

“The silver didn’t hurt me. I’ve healed.”

Her head was pounding and her wrist ached. “But you’re a werewolf.”

He stared into her eyes.

She looked down at her left wrist. Saw the faint marks there. Two small circles. It was such a good thing she was in the bed then. Otherwise, Chloe thought she might have fallen. “You drank my blood.”

There was a sudden, thick tension that seemed to cling to the air around him.

“Vampires drink blood,” Chloe said with a hard shake of her head. “Vampires, not werewolves.”

“There’s something you should know.” He rubbed his jaw. “I’m kind of a vampire.”

She looked at him, then she cast a fast and frantic glance around the room. The place was small, non-descript. A bed, a table, two chairs, no windows. But there was a door, about five feet away. If she could lunge through that door, she’d have a fighting chance of getting away from him.

“And I’m kind of a werewolf,” Connor continued in his oddly emotionless voice.

Her headache got so much worse. “You can’t be both.”

“Thanks to science….and vampire blood…I can be.”

She flew off that bed and lunged for the door, but she didn’t make it to freedom. Because Connor leapt in front of her, blocking Chloe’s path.

He lifted his hands and said, “I need you to listen.”

She needed a stake. Silver didn’t work on him, so did that mean that a wooden stake would? She didn’t know as much as she would have liked about vampires. Werewolves had always been her problem.

“The scent is back,” he muttered. A muscle flexed in his jaw. “It’s stronger than it was before.”

“Okay, this obsession with my scent has got to end.”

He stepped toward her.

She immediately slid back.

“Fear,” he whispered and his eyes lit with understanding. “You weren’t afraid when you were unconscious, so the scent wasn’t there. You’re terrified right now.”

“Of course, I’m terrified! You’re a vampire-wolf! Any sane person would be screaming right now!”

Connor winced. “Baby, you are screaming.”

She grabbed for the chair near her and yanked it away from the table. Then she held it up, putting it in front of her. “Don’t make me stab you in the heart.”

His lips twitched. “With a chair?”

“With a wooden chair leg!”

Connor sighed. He didn’t look frightened. He—

Flew toward her, tossed the chair against the wall, and yanked her against him.

She gaped at him.

His lips firmed and then he said, “Nothing has changed. My job was to protect you. I’m still doing that job. And I’m the same man, Chloe. The same man that I was two hours ago. The same man I was two days ago. The only difference is that now you know my secret.”

She didn’t want to know his secret.

He leaned over her. “If you’d stop being afraid, I would…I would have more control…” His breath blew lightly over her throat.

Oh, no. A vampire—and her throat? She shoved against his chest. “If you’d stop scaring me, then I wouldn’t be afraid!”

“May I have…more?”

What? She shoved harder. “No! No, you cannot have more! I’m not your personal blood bank!”

“I’ve heard the bite can be…pleasurable.”

She didn’t know. She’d kind of been flipping out when he grabbed her wrist before. What with all the bullets and werewolves and the general terror that she’d felt.

“I want to give you pleasure, baby.”

He was still way too close to her throat. Her heart was galloping like a race horse. Her knees were shaking and his teeth—they’d better not be growing.

“Connor—”

The door opened. It flew open and banged against the wall. Connor spun at once, pushing her behind his back. She was afraid she’d see a pack of foaming-at-the-mouth werewolves in that doorway, but…

A man stood there.

A man with blond hair. Blue eyes. A handsome face that didn’t seem threatening at all. It should have seemed threatening because she knew that man.

Eric Pate. Leader of the FBI’s Seattle Para Unit. And, if her father’s whispers had been right, the man poised to take over the entire Para Division.

Eric looked at Connor. He looked at Chloe. He looked back at Connor. “Your fangs are out.” Eric stepped into the room. “Tell me, tell me that you didn’t drink from her.”

“There wasn’t a choice,” Connor said. “She wouldn’t leave me at the safe house—”

“Well, no,” Chloe muttered, and she knew she sounded disgruntled. She felt that way, too. “I thought you’d die if I left you. You’re welcome, by the way.” Had he thanked her? No, he’d just taken her blood.

Connor slanted her a fast glance. Then he focused on Eric again. “The silver didn’t slow me down, but then they hit me with tranqs. After the fourth dart hit, I went down. I would have stayed down, but Chloe was there. She reached for me and I….” His voice roughed. “I bit her.”

Chloe waved her wrist at Eric. “Yes, he did. Right here, see it?”