Destiny Unchained (5 page)

“The meal?”

With a smirk she looked him in the eye. “The man I
drank from.”

If she thought that would scare him, she was sorely
mistaken. He’d seen vampires feed. And he’d already seen her fangs.
They didn’t disturb him in the slightest. Actually, his body –
specifically the aforementioned raging hard-on – found them
enticingly erotic.

“He’d been poisoned,” she continued. “When I woke up,
I was just how you found me.”

His brow creased. A serial killer and he’d left the
hunter alive? Something didn’t add up. “Why didn’t he kill
you?”

Her voice dropped as she stared into the trees. “He’s
playing with me.” She swung her gaze back to him and added, “He
thinks our cat and mouse game is funny. He won’t think so much
longer.”

There was obsession in her eyes. She wanted the kill
too badly. She would do anything for it. And that was a dangerous
place to exist.

That
settles it
. They would be hunting this slayer together.
Sorin would give him hell, but despite the way he found her, the
woman was clearly good at her job. And she already knew the
Slayer’s signature. She was a valuable asset
. And
he was going to stick to her like a burr in a wolf’s
fur.

The Northwest pack was his to protect. And from the
very first day he reluctantly stepped up to the task, he never
failed his duty. The women and children relied on his judgment, his
strength, and his loyalty. And not a day went by that he didn’t
feel the weight of it. He squared his shoulders and faced the
vampire. She would lead him to this threat and he would exterminate
it.

Just a few long strides and he stood in front of her,
looming in a way only an alpha could. “You’re going to tell me
everything about him. We’ll find him tog –”

“No. The hunt is mine.” She gave him a stern look.
“Just keep protecting your wolves and stay out of this.”

“The hell I will. This is my territory. No one
commits a crime so heinous without involving me. I’m in.” He leaned
in so close he could feel her breath on his neck. “If you don’t
like it, sweetheart, feel free to leave.”

He could tell a witty retort was on the tip of her
tongue, but she suddenly grasped the sides of her head and hissed
in a breath. Her gaze darted nervously to the sky. It was almost
dawn.

“How far to town?” she asked, her voice its usual
calm.

“About ten miles.” He watched the wheels turn in her
head, curious what the outcome would be. Would she finally ask for
help? A small wrinkle formed between her brows. “Don’t you have a
car?”

“A motorcycle, but he took it. Along with my
weapons.” She lowered her shaking hands. “Bastard meant for me to
suffer out here.”

Cristian had seen the effects of the sun on vampires.
It wasn’t pretty. The biggest, most bad-ass vampires he’d ever
known had crumpled to the ground, screaming in agony. They didn’t
burst into flames, but from what he’d been told, it was like being
boiled from the inside out. It weakened them, leaving them helpless
to defend themselves, a death sentence in the supernatural
world.

His heart thudded in his ears. Though he didn’t
understand why, it was imperative he keep her safe. He assured
himself it was only because he needed her help catching this
killer. “Come to camp with me. I’ll give you new weapons and a
place to sleep.”

“After what I did to your merry men?” She arched a
brow, her voice still as cool as her heart. “I can think of better
ways to commit suicide.”

“No one will touch you. I promise.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t gotten to be as old as
I am by trusting just anybody.”

He pursed his lips, pushing back the impulse to throw
her over his shoulder, to hell with her pride. Brute force would
not work on a woman like Natalia. “At least let me drive you to
town. I can have a jeep here in half an hour.”

She looked at the ground then to the sky, indecision
weighing on her face for a long moment. With a sigh, she gave him a
reluctant nod.

He smiled. Trust. One small step at a time.

What am I thinking?

Trusting a werewolf with her life? The coming sun
must’ve scrambled her brain. Unfortunately, she’d dug herself in a
hole this time. Literally, since that was her only other option.
She could go to ground and cover herself with earth. It wouldn’t be
comfortable. She would suffocate and remain unconscious until her
supernatural healing surged life back into her. With a deep inhale,
she’d choke on a lungful of dirt then suffocate again. The cycle
would happen over and over until night approached when she would
burst from the ground, weak, but alive. It was a torturous way to
spend a day. Slightly more agonizing than putting her safety in the
hands of a werewolf.

Her shoulders slumped under the strain of her aching
muscles. Sweat beaded on her brow. Weak as she was, she reminded
herself she could still kick the werewolf’s ass. He stared down at
her, tall and formidable. Yeah, she could kill him if she had to.
Probably. Maybe.

After commanding her to stay put with the promise
he’d be back with a jeep in twenty minutes, he disappeared into the
trees.

She focused on staying upright while she waited for
him to return. She fought the urge to flee several times – not that
she could’ve gotten far anyway. A short while later, the roar of
the jeep’s engine preceded it bursting through the trees. It was a
monster. Tires as big as a small child, the rest of it so caked
with mud she had no idea the original color of the thing. Cristain
jumped out of the passenger side and gestured her inside. He
whispered orders to the werewolf who’d been driving it. She tried
to eavesdrop. God, her head was pounding! The driver disappeared
into the woods and Cristian slid into the car.

The door slammed and he cursed when she gasped at the
noise. “Sorry.”

He drove like a bat out of hell. Her head banged into
the roof as he flew down the rocky trails not meant for monstrous
vehicles. But she had to admit, the jeep handled beautifully. How
she’d love to take it for a spin.

She corrected herself immediately.
Aren’t planning on seeing him again,
are you?

“Where are you staying?”

“Motel 6.” Her voice wavered.

By the time they drove into town, her blood was
boiling. Painful knots formed in her stomach. She bent over and bit
down on her lip to hold back a scream. She tasted blood. Cristian
looked at her then swore again. He shifted to fifth and tore down
the streets, weaving around cars with ease. Distantly, she admired
his skill.

He pulled into the motel parking lot, tires
screeching. She tried to reach for the door but her limbs were
numb. The door flew open and she was cradled in Cristian’s arms.
This was bad. Very bad. She attempted to struggle to her feet but
could barely move. She was at his mercy in every way.
Shoulda opted for the
ground.

At the door, Cristian said, “The key.”

She opened her mouth to tell him it was in her pocket
but nothing came out. This was worse than being found hanging from
a tree. At least then she had her voice. He sighed and adjusted his
hold, searching her pockets until he found the key card. The door
clicked open and he laid her gently on the bed. She watched him
close the drapes, shutting all light out of the room. Then he
disappeared into the bathroom. It was all she could do to keep her
eyes open. A moment later a cold, wet washcloth rested on her
forehead.

The pain eased out of her body until she was left
with just a dull ache. She sat up, still dizzy and weak, but his
hand on her shoulder pushed her back down. He started to remove her
boots.

She jolted upright then winced in pain. “No.”

Relentlessly, he pushed her back down again. “You’re
in no condition to fight me on this,
puiule
. Just lay back and shut up.” His
tone was gentle despite it being nothing less than a command.

He took off her boots, then her socks. When he went
for the waistband of her pants she started to protest.

“You need to cool down, Natalia,” he interrupted in
an unyielding voice. “I’m not going to try anything while you’re
lying here sick as a dog.” He ran his gaze over her body. “Though
God knows you’re fuckable enough.”

She wanted to laugh at the irony. Pale, sweating, and
face crumpled in pain and he called her fuckable? But he was right.
She needed to cool off. And why should she care how he saw her?
After today, she’d never see him again anyway. Still, she was glad
she didn’t opt for a thong that morning. His expression remained
clinical as he pulled off her leather pants. Uneven breaths and
stress lines around his eyes told her it took a lot of effort to
stay neutral.

“Now for your jacket.” He wrapped an arm around her
shoulders and eased her up.

God
he smells good.
Why did he have to smell so good? “The shirt
stays on, werewolf.”

He pursed his lips but nodded.

“Thank you,” she told him after he folded her clothes
and set them on a chair. “I’m fine now. You can leave.”

His answering smile was full of determination. “I
have no intention of leaving until I know you’re going to be
okay.”

“I believe I just said I was.”

Ignoring her, he sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Natalia.” His voice was a soothing whisper. “A popular Russian
name. Are we neighbors,
puiule
?”

Neighbors? So he was Romanian. It was one of the only
languages she didn’t speak. She’d travelled so extensively the last
eight hundred years, she’d lost all traces of her homeland’s
accent. And she’d been in America long enough to sound as if she’d
grown up there. “I was born long before there was a Russia.”

“Where?”

“Castile.” She answered him easily then mentally
kicked herself.

“Spain?”

She nodded. Her gaze swept up the muscular body
taking up half her bed then rested on his eyes. Such a pale blue,
like the sky after a rainstorm. And the other warm brown like the
craggy rocks of the park he protects.

“Ah, that explains the dark hair.” He brushed it from
her face and held a strand between his fingers. “What about your
pale skin?”

“My mother was Norse.”

He tucked the stray strand behind her ear and looked
deep into her eyes. “You have her eyes?”

“Yes.” Dark blue, almost navy, almond shaped eyes had
caught the attention of more than one man in her long lifetime.

“You’re beautiful.”

She snorted but it was too weak to have the effect
she intended. “A werewolf just called me beautiful. I must be
dreaming. I passed out from the sun, didn’t I? I’m probably dying
slowly in the woods.”

He smiled faintly. “You’re not dying, but you could
have.” He shifted on the bed, closing the inches between them. His
hip touched hers and his face grew stern. “I want you to promise me
you won’t face him alone again.”

“Now I know I’m dreaming. A werewolf trying to tell
me what to do? I know you’re not that stupid.”

Mildly, he told her, “I could stop you.”

A corner of her mouth turned up. “You could try.”

Their words were full of challenge, but their voices
remained soft. There was an unspoken acknowledgment that they were
equal in skill and would most likely kill each other trying to get
the upper hand.

“You’re weak,” he said. “I could tie you up right
now. Remove all the metal from the room.”

She gave him a look.
“You can’t be stupid enough to think that would
work.”

He chuckled. “You have a knack for escaping tight
situations, don’t you? Did you study with Houdini himself?”

Actually, she could’ve taught him a thing or two.

“All right.” He rose from the bed. “If you’re
determined to get yourself killed, I won’t stand in your way. But
when you suck up your pride and want to get the job done, let me
know.”

Not gonna happen.

“For now, sleep.”

She smiled as her eyelids grew heavy. “Still trying
to tell me what to do, werewolf?”

“It’s in my nature.” He tucked the sheet around her.
“Rest. You’re safe here.”

She fell asleep wondering why the hell she actually
believed him.

What the fuck are you doing, Cristian?

He’d just called her,
puiule
, a Romanian term of endearment. And
why? Because she intrigued him? Because she was the most gorgeous
creature he’d ever seen, with her rich, dark hair streaked with red
highlights that he’d love to see lit up by the sun? But a creature
was the proper term for what she was. A vampire. An enemy of his
pack.

Her chest rose and fell in a lulling rhythm. Laid out
half-naked and asleep on the bed, she didn’t look like a vampire
assassin. With soft, creamy skin, thick eyelashes, and full blood
red lips, she was as feminine as his Laurel was.

What had turned this blue-eyed beauty into such a
self-controlled killing machine? It piqued his curiosity. His wolf
nature demanded he figure her out.

He couldn’t deny taking a perverse pleasure in their
fiery challenges. If he were being honest with himself, he’d
acknowledge that though he loved Laurel with all his heart – and
the universe had chosen them as mates – she wasn’t a good partner
for an alpha. Of course, he wouldn’t be alpha if it weren’t for her
death. Or would he? At first he’d been a reluctant alpha, only the
circumstances of the moment giving him that role. But as the time
passed, he saw how naturally others followed him. And how natural
it felt to lead.

Cristian placed a hand over Natalia’s chest, focusing
on her heartbeat. Slow and steady. She would be fine. And he had
business to attend to. With a last glance around the room, he
scribbled a note then walked out into the chilly night air. He
jumped in his jeep and cranked the heat up to high.