His Untamed Desire (6 page)

Daphne shot him a hard look, telling him she smelled the same thing. As they neared the front door, he realized it was open a fraction. He couldn't smell any explosives residue or typical ingredients that went into bombs so he carefully toed the door open with his boot. He kept an arm out to shield Daphne, but she gasped at the same time he froze.

The mirror in her foyer had been smashed so that glass littered the tiled area, the foyer table was ripped apart, and there were smears of blood all over the wooden balustrade staircase. That was all Hector could see from their limited perspective and he wasn't about to let Daphne go in there. When she made a move to squeeze past him, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. “I'm calling Angus. Let him and whoever he brings deal with this. You don't need to see what was done to your house.”

He thought she might argue, but she just turned and wrapped her arms around his waist. She buried her face against his chest and he hated the shiver that snaked through her. Someone had just trashed her home and he didn't even want to speculate where the blood had come from. If there was a body inside, Hector definitely didn't want Daphne seeing it. Not because he didn't think she could handle it, but why put her through it? Since he didn't hear a heartbeat inside, if there was someone in there they were dead. Whoever had done this had violated her belongings and her safe haven.

“Call him,” she finally murmured. “If this was Troy, this has to stop.”

Hector pulled out his cell with his free hand, tightening his grip around her as he slowly walked them away from the home. He didn't want her anywhere near the house until it was cleaned up. This was ending now, before Daphne was in any more danger.

Five days later, Daphne was about to go crazy. Her boots clicked along the sidewalk as she strode with Saul toward the Full Moon. The city lights twinkled around them and the music and boisterous excitement from people out enjoying their lives was incredibly grounding. Hector needed to work and she wasn't about to monopolize all his time as her babysitter, but he'd asked her to come see him tonight and she wanted to get out of the mansion. Ever since her home had been trashed, there hadn't been a peep out of Troy—if he was even the person who'd done it. Deep down, she was pretty sure he was. He certainly wasn't returning her phone calls, which was pretty damning in her opinion.

And for the last five days she'd been cooped up in the pack's mansion. She and Hector had talked every day and he'd been by to see her a lot, but they hadn't had more than a moment of privacy. Plus she'd been attending school like normal—well, with an escort at all times. There was no way in hell she was going to let some psycho take that away from her. Now she was sexually frustrated beyond belief and had decided that tonight was it for her and Hector. She was pretty sure he felt the same way, though he was hard to read sometimes. He'd been really weird that morning when they'd talked on the phone, but she didn't know if that was about her or the whole situation and she hadn't wanted to analyze it.

“So what's the deal with you and Hector?” Saul asked.

Yeah, like she was going to tell him anything about her feelings for Hector. He was the biggest gossip of the pack. “We're friends.”

Saul snorted. “Yeah, I make out with all my friends too.”

“If you had any female friends, you probably would.”

“You're my friend and I don't make out with you.”

“But you would if I let you.” Of that, she had no doubt. The man would hook up with anyone.

Grinning, Saul just shrugged in that charming manner of his. While she loved him and understood why females flocked to him, no one got her heart racing the way Hector did.

Music and laughter spilled from the bar as they approached. Saul went in ahead of her, as was male shifter custom—they had this thing for checking for possible danger—and stopped so suddenly she ran into his back.

He swiveled and looked down at her with pity. What the hell? He tried to stop her, but she peeked around him and saw some tall blond female plastered against Hector, her mouth pressed against his. And Hector's hands were on her shoulders . . .

The sight was like a punch to her stomach. No, worse than that. Unwilling to watch the horrid display—or worse, start crying in front of half her pack—she turned on her heel and stalked down the sidewalk. If it had been any other time, she would have marched up to him and probably punched him in the face. But the last week had left her raw and overly emotional and right now she didn't trust herself not to make a scene in front of shifters and humans alike. Some kid had developed a sick obsession with her and she was worried she'd somehow caused it. Add to that her growing feelings for Hector and—damn it, she was such an idiot. She refused to cry in front of anyone. It was the only reason she was hauling ass away from here.

Saul hurried beside her. “Daphne, he—”

She turned and shoved him in the chest, wishing it was Hector instead. She didn't want to hear some bullshit excuse from her own packmate. What was that anyway, some sort of male solidarity crap? Maybe she took Saul off guard because he stumbled back and sprawled on the sidewalk. He let out a yelp as his ass kissed the pavement.

Using those precious moments of freedom, she sprinted across the street and jumped into the back of an idling taxi that a man had been attempting to get into.

“Ma'am—”

Even though she knew it was an incredibly shitty thing to do, Daphne bared her canines. “Drive. I'll pay extra.”

The guy's dark eyes widened and he jerked away from the curb. She heard someone shouting, probably his original patron, but she was beyond caring about anything at this point.

Her throat squeezed impossibly tight as she tried to hold back the sob building inside her. Part of her wished she'd been strong enough to confront Hector or yell at him . . . or something. But they'd never made any commitment to each other. They'd never even had sex. Sure, they'd made out a lot and he'd given her that one, intense orgasm, but they weren't a couple. No, screw him. This past week he'd made her feel as if she was the only female on the planet for him. As if what they had was special. Treating her like this was unforgivable.

“Where to, ma'am?” the driver asked, his voice wary.

She rattled off her address without thinking. Her pack had cleaned her place up and had a new alarm system installed, but she hadn't been back. She'd been too afraid, but right now she wasn't going to the mansion. She didn't want to see or talk to anyone. Nope, she wanted to be alone with her tears and she was pretty sure she had a bottle of wine in the pantry—if the bastard who'd trashed her place hadn't destroyed that too. Angus had refused to let her see inside her house until it was cleaned, but she'd heard some of her packmates whispering that someone had shredded her clothes and underwear. How gross was that?

When the driver pulled up to her place she shoved a wad of cash at him and apologized for being so rude. She hoped the giant tip made up for it, but she didn't have the energy to say much more.

Tears tracked down her face, nearly blinding her as she hurried toward her front door. She froze at the sound of a bullet being chambered. While she might not use weapons, almost every shifter had knowledge of guns and knives. And she knew that sound. Standing on the bottom stair that led to her front door, she slowly turned around and tried to ignore the icy chill slithering through her veins.

Troy was standing there and he had a gun pointed right at her face.

•   •   •

Hector felt like he was going to vomit right on the floor of the bar. He wiped his mouth, as if that could somehow erase the feel and taste of that drunk human's lips on his. He'd cut her off earlier, but she must have been sneaking drinks, so when he'd tried to kick her out, she'd literally thrown herself at him.

If she'd been a shifter, he'd have thrown her ass across the bar, but she was human and they were so damn fragile. He'd still shoved her off of him, but not soon enough. Hector had heard of the effects of the mating call, but this was beyond what he'd expected. He actually felt physically ill after being fondled by the woman.

Jax, one of the female bouncers, gripped the human female's arm, mainly to keep her standing upright. “I'm going to get her into a cab.”

“She's banned for life,” Hector growled. “I've already got a copy of her ID.”

“Hector, that's kinda harsh,” Jax said almost admonishingly.

“What would you do if someone kissed and groped you against your will?” None of the females in the bar would put up with that shit. He wouldn't either. “I'm not Saul,” he added as an afterthought, because that male probably would have liked it.

Jax nodded once in approval. “If someone did that to me they wouldn't be walking for a week.” She propelled the woman toward the door. “Did you hear that, honey? Banned for life.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face in time to see Saul striding through the bar looking pissed. Hector's eyes widened when he realized the lupine shifter was stalking toward him like he was prey.

Barely dodging the other shifter's fist when he took a swing, Hector ducked down and put some distance between them. The music quieted and the dance floor cleared as Saul turned to face him.

“What the hell, Saul?”

The lupine shifter's hands were balled into fists and his wolf was crystal clear in his gaze. “You can't treat Daphne like that.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“She saw you kissing that woman and she deserves better than that.” Saul growled deep in his throat, the first time Hector had ever seen him truly pissed about anything.

Fuck.
“That female kissed me and she's now banned for life. I didn't want that shit and . . . I don't need to explain myself to you. Where the hell is Daphne?”

Some of the tension fled Saul's body as he shrugged. “She ran off and got into a cab.”

Hector's heart beat wildly in his chest. Daphne was out there alone? There was still a threat against her. Angus had tracked down Troy's maker—a young punk who had no business turning unstable humans into vamps—but they hadn't been able to find Troy. The guy had gone underground, but it was only a matter of time before he came after Daphne again.

Hector pulled out his phone and dialed her cell. It went to voice mail after a couple rings, meaning she'd likely ignored the call. Cursing, he looked at Saul who was still watching him warily. “You're taking my shift tonight. I'm going to find Daphne. And for the record, I would never hurt her. I'm going to mate her if she'll have me.” He said it loud enough for the entire bar to hear before he raced outside. Right now he didn't give a shit about anyone but Daphne. If she actually thought he'd cheated on her . . . His inner jaguar clawed at his insides, telling him to make this right. He should have made his intentions clear earlier, but she'd had so much shit piled on her plate and they'd had literally no privacy. But mainly, his feelings for her were damn powerful and almost overwhelming. He didn't want to scare her into running from him.

As he jogged toward his bike, he tried calling her again multiple times, but it kept going to voicemail. Jumping on his bike, he tried to think of where she'd go. The mansion was a no-go. She was likely pissed and hurt right now. She wouldn't want to be surrounded by her packmates. And she wouldn't go to Leta's because that was his sister. Gunning the engine, he tore out into traffic. It could be the wrong guess, but he had to start somewhere. She hadn't been back to her place since it had been cleaned up.

He had to find her. To make this right. He refused to let a misunderstanding rip them apart. His jaguar was snarling and urging him to go faster. Breaking a dozen traffic laws, he made it to her street in less than five minutes. As his bike roared up to her place, he lost a decade of his life as he saw the vamp Troy pointing a gun at Daphne.

No doubt it had silver bullets. If she'd been a little older, she might survive a direct shot to the head. But she was still growing in strength and if the silver got in her bloodstream—his jaguar clawed, taking over before Hector could think about maintaining control.

His bones broke, ligaments snapped and everything realigned as fur replaced skin in milliseconds. He'd never shifted that fast. He'd also never cared about anyone the way he did about Daphne.

The vamp turned at the sound of his snarled cry, moving the gun away from Daphne's body. Hector saw her duck and kick out at the vamp, slamming her boot into his stomach with a vicious blow.

Everything happened in slow motion. Troy stumbled back, his gun-toting hand wavering about wildly. Daphne made a move to attack the vamp again, but Hector was faster.

And this kill was his. Using all the strength in his hind legs, he launched himself through the air. His paws slammed into Troy's chest. The gun flew out of the vamp's hand and his claws came out. Vamp claws were sharp and just as deadly as shifters'. The vamp clawed at Hector's face and tried to dig into his side, but Hector was ending this before it started.

He wouldn't be much of a fighter if he couldn't take this punk out. His inner jaguar wanted to torment and play with the prey for daring to hurt Daphne, but he reined in those instincts and snapped his jaw around Troy's neck.

Crunching through bone and ligaments, he tasted sweet vamp blood as Troy's body went completely limp beneath him. Tearing and pulling, Hector finally yanked the head from his body, tossing it a few feet away. With his adrenaline pumping, he hovered over the carnage and tried to get himself under control.

The need to hunt and kill was always strong in him—he was a natural born predator—but he'd never been out of control before. Not like this. For the first time in his life the pull of the animal was stronger than the man.

“Hector?”

He turned at the sound of Daphne's soft voice. She stood a few feet away, but she didn't look afraid of him. Thank God for that.

“Can you come back to me? He's dead. He won't hurt me anymore.” Her voice shook a little, but her relief was palpable.

Hearing those words was all he needed. In the distance he heard sirens blaring and had no doubt they were meant for him. A neighbor would have definitely called the cops by now. Before shit went crazy and they had to explain to the humans what was going on, he needed to clear one thing up with the woman he loved.

Shifting back to human form was a little quicker and seconds later he was standing in front of Daphne naked and completely unselfconscious. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but worried about her rejection. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head and he saw anger, not sadness, in her gaze. “No. He was planning to, though.”

He would ask more later, but he'd needed that out of the way first. “I didn't kiss that woman at the bar. She kissed me, taking me completely by surprise. It was fucking disgusting. I don't want to touch or kiss anyone but you, Daphne. I love you. I realized it—”

Before he could finish she launched herself at him. He was covered in blood, but she wrapped her arms and legs around him and almost tackled him to the ground with the intensity of her kiss.

Behind him, he heard tires screeching and doors slamming. It was the only thing that made them pull apart from one another.

“Hands in the air!” a man shouted.

Taking a deep breath, he set Daphne on her feet and they both raised their arms. Until the cops figured out what was going on, this was going to be a huge hassle.