The Hunt (Page 25)
Jonathan
The surface wounds have all healed; pink, puckered flesh coats my side as I change into a warm set of clothes. I'm still moving a bit slow and I'm not back to normal yet, but I'm still well enough to help. Charlie, the bartender on duty, told me Coraline is in the bar enjoying a drink alone. I intend on hightailing it over there as quick as I can.
It's past midnight and the seethe plotted for hours trying to work out a viable plan. Step one is talking to the Tribunal member and setting her on the predetermined trail. When I arrive at the Irish pub located in the east wing of the third floor, Coraline is examining the special drink menu, the one offering cocktails mixed with blood. Spike, one of the werewolves traveling with Romeo's pack, sits at the far end. Must be taking a break for the night and not hunting. Unlike the vamps, the wolves can't keep up the pace of around-the-clock day after day.
He looks my way and I swear I see interest blooming in his gaze. Something about his unique pheromone combination confuses my senses and makes me return his smile. Jesus. Am I that hard up for a werewolf mate I'm ready to hit on some odd-smelling guy?
I slide onto the stool next to Cora, steadfastly refusing to look in the Were's direction again, and nod to Charlie. "Pint of Yuengling."
"Coming right up, Jon. You okay? You don't look yourself."
I'm freshly-showered, in clean clothes, and not wearing flannel-I wonder which one is throwing him off? "I'm good," I smile my same old crooked grin, trying to reassure the bartender. "Took a beating from a vampire earlier."
He nods and cleans a glass. "That explains the fading bruises."
"Trouble in paradise?" Coraline says when she turns her attention to me. "Aren't you Vivian's servant?" Her eyes narrow while she checks me out. "Did our hostess get a little rough with one of her toys?" A smile creases her wholesome-looking face and a dimple winks into view.
"No, but one of the guests did."
"Really?" She turns on her stool, giving me her full attention. "One of the hunters?"
I shake my head and lean in, keeping my voice low. "It was one of their guests. Did you see the Indian vampires?" At her nod I continue, "The male one, Vikram, came after me."
"Now that's surprising. From what I'd read of Sanji, she's the unstable one."
I shrug, hiding my elation over what she's confirmed-she checked out the hunters and knew who all the players were before she arrived. Could one of them be in on her plans to get to Vivian? This underhanded political crap annoys me. Wolves would just fight it out face-to-face and be done with it.
The blond vamp eyes me critically, "How did you get away? Even being younger than Sanji, he still would have been enough to take down one werewolf."
"Vivian heard my distress call and came to my aide."
Her lush red lip lifts in disgust, "I suppose any vampire would do the same for their servant."
"Don't speak from experience?" I smile, hoping my good nature can charm her. "You don't have a handsome man at home ready to do your bidding?"
Her eyes narrow and she purses her lips, "Not for a few decades." Coraline turns her attention back to the specialized drink menu. "Sometimes they're more work than they're worth." One French-tipped nail settles on a printed listing. "Barkeep?"
The large, brown-haired man behind the counter comes over. "Charlie."
"My name is Charlie."
"Like I care? Get me some of this old blood, I want to give it a try."
Without glancing at me, Charlie remembers his instructions from before the hunt started. "Sorry, we're all out. Supplier might have some for us by next week, though."
"That certainly does me no good now, does it?" She flips the menu over and glances through the list of fresh blood choices used as mixers. "I'll take a Cosmo with some A-neg."
Man, she's got a winning disposition. I'm starting to doubt my role in being the one to get her started on the trail. "Charlie, did you hear the latest?"
"Hmm? On what, the hunt?"
"Yeah, Drew will be sending an email out to the employees soon, I think. One more down and two have dropped out of the hunt."
He delivers a low whistle while shaking the drink in a metal mixing cup. "So that makes the body count two, right?"
"If you count the werewolf, it's three hunters."
"Three hunters are dead already?" Coraline sputters her indignation. "Why wasn't I informed?"
I shrug my shoulders as I glance in the long mirror behind the bar. Rafe slips in the room and stays close to an empty booth seat. "I'm not the one in charge. Couldn't tell you."
"Where is your master? I need to speak with her."
"Not sure." I angle my head in Rafe's direction, "But her husband is right over there if you'd care to ask."
The council member grabs her drink off the counter and stomps over to Rafe's spot at one of the corner booths. I nod my thanks to Charlie and leave my beer on the counter, untouched. Avoiding alcohol while I'm still healing seems like a wise thing to do.
Rafe meets my eye as I open the heavy door leading into the gentleman's lounge. Coraline's voice is the last thing I hear as the wood whisks shut behind me, "Tell me what the hell has happened so far and maybe I won't go so hard on your wife when I see her."
I head through the lounge and out onto the landing surrounding the open foyer on the main floor. A throat clears off to my left and I catch a glimpse of familiar strawberry-blond hair in the shadows of the darkened reading parlor.
"Diane?" I ask, while changing direction to met her. "Is that you?" She's Dr. Cook's daughter and the one I was hoping to talk to about a mind protection charm. "Did you get my message?"
The randy thirty-year-old is dressed in a tight sweater with a plunging neckline. Tousled, spiral curls hang to her ass, begging to be touched. Her jeans look painted on and everything about her screams to be fucked.
Her full mouth tilts up in a knowing smile as she runs a hand up my chest. I grab it to halt her progress. "I was hoping you'd call to get together," she says in a throaty whisper.
"It's not what you think, sorry."
Diane's other hand snakes down to cup my balls. "Didn't you enjoy it last time?" She leans in, placing her full breasts against my chest.
I step back, breaking her hold on my expanding cock and remove her lush curves and perky nipples from temptation. I lock down my pheromones and try to will my thoughts away from plunging my cock into her. This is not the time for a quick jaunt with the sexy witch. "You know I did. But I'm in the middle of something right now and need your help."
Her face clears, the sultry, sleepy look replaced by interest. "Go on," she says while removing her hand from my grasp and folding her arms over her chest.
"Is there an amulet you can make to help shield my thoughts? Or help me strengthen my mental walls?"
She tilts her head, opening her mouth slightly and closing it. I bet she's itching to ask me what for and is debating on whether it's a sound idea or not. "There isn't any local lore I could apply. But, most of my teachings occurred in the lower states. I might be able to whip you up something." A mischievous smile crosses her face. "It'll cost you."
I have a pretty good idea what kind of payment the sex-crazed woman will ask me for. Stepping closer, I take her face in my hands and kiss her deeply. Her hot tongue battles with mine as her passion rises. A small whimper escapes as the muscles in her body relax.
I walk her back to a leather chair until her legs hit and she's forced to sit down. I go down to one knee, and with one hand I open her pants and unzip them. As I force my fingers down into the constricted space of her tight jeans, she coils her arms around my neck and grinds her pelvis forward. Sliding over her slippery, wet folds, I carefully explore to find the hard nub of her desire. A few gentle strokes and she's bowing against me, raising her ass off the seat. "Take me here, Jon," she says as she breaks our kiss for air. "I don't mind if we attract an audience."
While I enjoy her whenever I'm horny, I don't have any desire to broadcast my private moments to anyone in the inn. "That's not very becoming for the doctor's daughter, now is it?" I chuckle.
"Like I care what anyone thinks of me, the resident witch?" She reaches once more for my cock, but I pull my hips back. "They all come to me when they want a love charm or staying power that beats Viagra."
The passion she's instilled in me with such charms overrides everything, even my obsession with Vivian. If I can push the redheaded temptress out of my head long enough, I can find release in the arms of another. Although, I now try to avoid long, drawn-out encounters. I learned the hard way that women can fall for me, while I feel nothing in return.
"Please, Jon." She nibbles along my ear while I plunge my fingers deep into her wet opening. "You're working me up good." Diane clutches my shirtfront while I steadily build her toward release.
"You make that charm for me and we'll see." I know it's cruel to use her, but I've been honest in my lack of feelings for her. If she still wants a tumble sometimes, then I'm more than happy to oblige.
Her eyes fly to mine and her breathing sounds rough, "You're going to leave me hanging?"
A tenderness grabs hold of my heart as I lean down to plant kisses along her neck. I wish I could love her. She's sweet and responds to my touch at a moment's notice. "No, I'd never do that to a lady," I say while grinding the heel of my palm into her sensitive mound. "I can't be with you now. I've got some internal wounds healing." Soft mewling sounds come from deep in her throat. "But that's not to say I won't satisfy you."
Despite my intentions, my sexual musk starts to leak out, coating the air with the arousal I refuse to acknowledge. Diane's pale coloring reminds me so much of my heart's desire. I bite her taut, ivory skin, drawing a slight bit of pain into the experience as she's about to peak. Biting Dria, even mildly, would allow me to mark her as mine, undoubtedly sending Rafe into a rage.
I'd love to give the human a run for his money and my cock starts to lengthen at the thought of having him equally desire me. The feel of Dria's flesh under my mouth combines with the image of Rafe taking her from behind while I tease her front. My fingers rubbing expertly at her clit while her husband's cock slides into her pussy.
A throaty "Jon" issues from my lover and a pulse beats in my prick. I pull back to examine the teeth marks I've made in her skin. When I see the freckles dotting Diane's complexion, I'm pulled rudely out of my fantasy. A clench in my chest reminds me it can never be. Maybe... if I can convince Rafe I'm not a threat to their bond... but doing so would be a stretch since I very much desire to be the vampire's true mate.
Diane's moans get louder and I clamp my mouth on hers to capture the sounds. My slow and steady rhythm plunging deep inside builds to a faster pace and I lighten the force of my palm. Her hips circle as she unconsciously seeks more pressure to reach orgasm.
She breaks our kiss and I ease my hand out of the tight confines of her jeans. "Let me please you, Jon." Diane runs a hand along the straining bulge in my pants. "Please."
The look on my face gives her a hint of my coming answer, but before I open my mouth she rises and pushes me roughly backward into an alcove between bookcases. The strawberry blond fumbles at my waistband and drops to her knees. "This time it will work without the charm, I know it. Injury or not," she says while wrapping a hand around my hardness and wrestling with my pants, "you haven't felt this stiff in ages."
I look down at the golden red of her hair; even in the dim light I can tell she's not Dria. I lean my head back against the wood paneling, closing my eyes, drifting in the sensations of her moist heat encircling the tip. In my mind I see my master taking my cock deep into her throat while Rafe watches, heat burning in his gaze instead of anger. One hand pumps the base and the other kneads my balls, a gently coaxing stimulation of the soft globes to drive me higher.
What would he do? Would he join in? Take her doggie style while she works me? The images flash through my brain and I pump my hips in excitement. The wet pressure leaves my shaft and a soft voice breaks the spell, "That's it, Jonny. Let go."
Jesus. Why did she have to talk? Reality crashes back around me and I'm very aware it's my sometimes lover, Diane, sucking my cock and not Dria. As she lowers her head to engulf me once more, I stop her. The blood starts to rush out of my dick and I don't feel up to trying to force the moment. "Don't, please."
Hurt flashes across her face then deepens to sadness in her eyes.
"It's not you, Diane. It's me." I lift her to her feet and wrap my arms around her in an embrace. "I know you want more than I can give, and I'm truly sorry for that." I lean back to look in her deep blue eyes again, seeing some of her good humor replace the pain I saw a moment ago. "It's past time I found werewolf mate. This seems to be my body's way of forcing the issue."
She reaches up and plants a tender kiss on my mouth. "It's getting worse. The aphrodisiac seems to be the only thing allowing you to let loose these days."
I rest my forehead against hers, "I know."
Diane steps back and does up her pants. "How about I mix some up while I work on the protection amulet?" Her no-nonsense approach makes me feel even more of a shit-heel. "Hey now, lose the guilty look. I knew when you needed the passion charm this was not a long-term relationship." She gives me a saucy wink as I zip up. "But I intend to ride it out for as long as it lasts."
"Is it worth it?" I ask in a soft whisper. "I don't want you hurt."
The bold young woman reaches out a hand and touches my arm. "Eventually I'll want kids and stuff, which isn't an option with you... but that's years away. Wild, uncontrollably passionate sex with a friend?" She winks at me as she turns to leave. "It's good enough for now." Halfway across the landing, she looks back over her shoulder, tossing her spiral curls out of the way. "Don't worry about tonight. You can make it up to me when I mix up a fresh batch of passion."
Once she's gone, I push away from the wall and a twinge of pain issues from my ribs. Despite resting earlier, I'm drained. Healing from the beating I took will take some time. The failed intimate encounter only reinforces how much I'm not up to par. Six months ago I could have ignored her voice in the heat of the moment and plowed through with my fantasy, but it's becoming more and more difficult to find release lately.
My thoughts drift back to the man in the bar, Spike. His dark good looks and intense brown eyes watched my every move earlier. While I admit, the idea of being with Dria and Rafe consumes me, I've not thought of being solely with a man. Good God, could I be gay and not know it? I shake my head, confused, and try my best to knock loose the strange scent of the new werewolf from my head.
The solace of the warm makeshift bed in Dria and Rafe's suite calls to me. I head back there, knowing I've got a few hours to kill before the next stage in the plan, which is setting the fake kill scene.
The dogs welcome me and we curl up together on the thin mattress. The rare peace of being with my pack cocoons me and I quickly drop off into a light sleep. Sometime later, voices crash into my awareness and I'm pulled from a doze. People mill about the space and Kujo grows restless beside me.
"Are you sure it was just one bracelet, Drew?" I crack open my eyes to see Dria stuffing her arms into a white, fur-lined parka.
"Yes, ma'am. She's at the property perimeter, about a mile due west from the apartments."
With a nod in my direction, she pulls on gloves and an insulated hat. "Let's hope I get to her first and not Stan. The silver in just one of those will render her immobile and defenseless." Grabbing a small GPS unit she heads out into the cold.