Just One Bite Volume 2 (13 page)

“Chapstick.”

I jumped a foot off the seat. I tried to look over my shoulder, but couldn’t, so I glanced into the rearview mirror and saw...

Three guesses who. First two don’t count.

Yeah. Cowboy Beau. Lounging in my back seat.

What the hell?

I swallowed hard and tried to keep my cool. “What about it?”

“Keeps the silver from penetrating our lips. Nice try, though. And it would’ve worked if our undercover Were didn’t stay one step ahead of your technology.”

Damn
. “So you know what I am.”

“What 
and
 who. Charisma, herself. I’m honored.”

“Nice to meet you, Omega.”

He grinned at me. “So what are we going to do about this?”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Under normal circumstances, yes. Unfortunately our situation is anything but.”

“Because...?”

“I like you.”

I felt a glimmering of hope. Stupid, stupid Were. So stupid that I could actually tell him the truth. “Oddly enough, I like you, too.”

He laughed at me. “And we can each go our separate ways and forget the other exists?”

“Not so much.”

“Thought you might say that.” He began to hum ‘Should’ve Been a Cowboy,’ all the while examining a combat knife that he held at eye level. It glinted when it caught a beam from the security lights. I knew it could decapitate me in one quick slash.

I tried to distract him. “What gave me away?”

“Your cologne. What did you call it...? ‘Infamy’? That’s apropos.”

“So you’d smelled it before?”

“Yep.” For the longest time, he continued to hum. Then he suddenly leaned forward to lift my hair and trail his lips over my neck. 

A shiver of delight stretched from there all the way to my.... No! What the heck was wrong with me? I did not want this cowboy, er, Were, in my pants!

Oblivious to my humiliating reaction--or 
not
 so--he sat back and resumed his inspection of the knife. “I’ve been watching you work the bar for a while now.”

“No way. I’d have spotted you.”

“News flash, baby. Weres don’t just phase from human to wolf to human again. They can also manage a human to human shift.” 

Now why would he tell me that secret unless...? I began twisting my hands, trying to work them free of the rope.

“You passed me over five times this week alone. I was just wondering why.”

I thought of all the cowboys I hadn’t made my target. “Your hayseed look, asshole. I hate cowboys.”

“Why? Did one of them break your heart?”

“As if.”

“But you went for it tonight.”

“It was you or nothing. I hate to go home without a new notch on my belt. Figuratively speaking, that is. I’d never wear anything that tacky.”

“Of course not.” The steel knife flashed again. The silence stretched into forever.

“So kill me already.”

“No can do.”

“Why not?”

“I said why. I like you.”

And I like you, dammit. But what has that got to do with anything? 
”What do you usually do to Vamps you like?”

“Damned if I know. This is all new for me.”

“I’m not having sex with you first, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Never crossed my mind.”

“No shit?” It had sure as hell had crossed mine.

His smug laugh would’ve made me blush if I could still do that.

I took a deep breath. “What I mean is...why not? Is something wrong with me?”

“Besides the fact that you’re dead? Not a damn thing.” He started humming again, a slight frown knitting his eyebrows.

“It’ll be dawn soon.”

“And you won’t burst into flames.”

Hm. “Can we at least get out of this parking lot? I don’t want a run-in with the police any more than you do.”

“Guess I could take you to my place.”

“On second thought, let’s call 9-1-1.”

Grinning, he stretched lazily, then opened my back door and got out of the car. I turned my head away when he rested his arms on the roof and leaned in the open window. That made him laugh again.

“Know what?”

I didn’t answer.

“I think you’ve been avoiding me all week 
not
 because cowboys turn you off, but because they turn you on.”

“Get real.”

“And if I take you home, we can probably find out just how much.”

Oh no.
“I’d rather be dead.”

“You 
are
 dead.” Beau opened my door.

Fangs out, I went for his throat. He jerked back and hauled me out of the car. Of course I landed in an inglorious heap at his feet. 

Slow-motion seconds passed as he stared down at me. “For the record, I still like you.”

Ditto, unfortunately.
I studied the toe of his weathered boot instead of risking an answer.

One smooth move had me tossed over his shoulder and then dangling face down above his amazing Wrangler ass. How humiliating. He dropped me into the back of his pickup truck, got into the cab, and hit the road.

Road? I wished. The terrain maneuvered by the Ram couldn’t even be called a path. I bounced all over the bed of that truck.

“Ooh, damn you! Ow, you son of a bitch!”

What made it worse was Beau’s laughter, and before that truck finally lurched to a halt, I wished I didn’t have Vamp ears. Normally I reveled in the fact that I could hear a bumblebee burp from a mile away.

Nursing my bruised body and ego, I refused to look at my nemesis when he got out of the truck and peered into the bed.

“You okay?”

“As if you cared.”

Chuckling, Beau walked to the back of the vehicle and lowered the tailgate. He grasped my ankles and slid me to the edge, then scooped me up in his arms, Rhett Butler style. Immediately, he headed deeper into the woods.

“Where are we going?” I used my amped senses to identify my surroundings. I realized that tall trees surrounded and arched over us, almost obscuring the light of dawn. I smelled wild jasmine, cedar, moss, and mud. I heard the bark of a squirrel, the slither of a snake. I felt a fresh summer breeze on my face.

“My place.”

“You said you lived on a ranch.”

“I might’ve lied.”

Shit. Shit. 
Shit!
If this Were had a cozy log cabin with a table or a couch or a bearskin rug, I’d jump his bloodthirsty bones. But why wait that long? We could do it anywhere. Here, even.

To my fellow Were stalkers: This is Charisma. You know that assassin we can’t seem to kill? Omega? Well....
“Beau?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me.”

He stopped in his tracks.
“What?”

“Fuck. Me.”

His eyes narrowed. “This is new.”

“You can say that again.”

“Weird, too.”

“And we wouldn’t want to go against the norm. I mean, Vamps and Weres are sooo natural.”

He grinned. “You have a point.” His grin vanished. “Would any cowboy do?”

“Nope. Just you.”

“Hm.”

For the longest time, he stood there, looking down at me in silence. But I heard his heartbeat quicken, and felt the tell-tale bulge behind his fly. 

I gave him an honest smile. “There 
are 
rules, of course.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“You have to keep your spit to yourself.”

“Only if you keep your fangs to 
your
self.”

“Deal.” I held out my bound hands. “Got a knife?”

Beau set me on my feet and withdrew it from the leather sheath at his waist. A quick flick released my wrists and then my ankles. “We’ll probably regret this in the morning.”

“It 
is
 morning.” I wiped my lips on the hem of my blouse just in case, then wasted no time in wrapping my arms around his neck. Our lips touched.

Mmmm.

Beau lifted the hem of my shirt. I reached for his fancy belt buckle.

Tree roots to our left began to groan, snap and surge upward as the forest floor buckled before our eyes and something enormous ascended from the dirt to loom before us.

Beau cursed; I gasped and spun around.

Asmodeus, himself. Daemon of all Daemons. Supreme killer of the paranormal universe. The clawed leg and fierce heads confirmed his identity, as did his vicious growl.

I threw my arms back to keep Beau safe behind me...or tried to. He did not cooperate, instead shoving me aside and squaring off to face our mutual enemy alone. His outstretched arm warned me to keep away.

I sprang to my feet.

“Stay!” Beau shouted at me, even as he exploded into an enormous silver Wolf.

Of course I ignored him. So shoulder to shoulder, a Vamp and Were fought off Asmodeus until the hot sun beat down on us from high above. But in the end, our ferocious battle had no victor. The Daemon simply stepped back, nodded politely, and descended into hell again.

The Wolf instantly shifted into naked, bloody, muddy Beau.

And I looked no better. We eyed each other in disbelief.

“What was that all about?” I asked, pushing my hair out of my face.

“The novelty of us, maybe?”

“There is that.”

“I can’t believe you tried to save me.” Beau shook his head. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“That I liked you? That sex on the sly for all eternity sounded perfect, but would never happen if you were dead?”

He blinked. “Thanks, Charisma.”

“Thank 
you
, Omega.”

“So when does this orgy start?”

My gaze dropped below his waist. “Mmm, does 
now
 work?”

He grabbed my shirt again.

And me? Well, I grabbed something else.

Three guesses what. 

First. Two. Don’t. Count.

The End

Salute Your Shifter

by Dahlia Rose

The party in the commissary banquet hall was jumping. Spiders, cobwebs, and an assortment of decorations hung from every surface. The fall colors of orange and black were set off stringed lights hanging from the ceiling. Specialist Nia Kirkston looked around and took a sip from her drink. She grimaced and recalled that Irish car bombs are not a sipping drink, so she chugged it down.

“Way to go, Nia!”

One of the soldiers from her office clapped her on the back, and she grinned as the drink went straight to her head. It was good that they were given permission to have the Halloween party. As the news came down that the last of the platoons were being drawn out of Iraq and heading home, there was a reason to celebrate. Nia looked down at her boot with the shiny silver heels and knew her costume was risqué. 
Sexy kitty with riding crop?
She doubted her choice when she looked in the full length mirror before leaving her place. The black against her ebony skin made a sexy contrast. She had even rubbed gold glitter lotion over her body to give it that sexy sheen. 
Thank God my boss is not here to see this.

Major Casey Johnson’s image popped into her head—sexy as hell, drop-dead gorgeous with a rugged jawline, and deep blue eyes. That was as far as it went because the man was surly as hell. Being the transcriptionist for the head of the Ranger Special Recon Unit had its perks, and while her boss was hot to look at, he was not a man that made coming to work fun. She assumed that being the head of the Army Beasts came with a whole lot of tension. There was something about the man and the group of men he led. She watched them walk in and out of his office on many occasions. A difference in the way they moved, they way they acted, and their eyes. All their eyes seem to be brighter, deeper in color, and more intense.

“Specialist Kirkston, I’ve been looking for you.”

The sound of her commander’s voice made her choke on her drink as she whirled to face him. There he stood assessing her with cold blue eyes from the top of her kitten ears headband to the tips of her stiletto heels.

“Um yes-yes sir?” Nia put the drink down so quickly it splashed onto her hand. “Shit!” She mopped it up quickly and turned back to his stare.

“You have work to do. Come with me,” he ordered.

“Sir?” Nia asked. “It’s after eleven at night and …”

“Are you questioning a direct order, Specialist Kirkston?” Major Johnson snapped.

“No, sir, I’m not.” Nia felt her temper rise. He had no reason to treat her like this. “May I go home to change . . . sir?” She knew she snapped the words out, and maybe it was the alcohol, but she didn’t care.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You’ll come with me now. Black leather doesn’t affect your typing, does it?”

“Not at all, sir,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Where do I sit, sir, or should I just run beside the car until we get to the office,” Nia said and instantly regretted her words. But she couldn’t bring herself to apologize for the harshness.

“I’m sure sitting in the front seat will be fine,” Major Johnson said. “Plus I doubt you could do much running in those heels. You can call me Casey, you know.”

She was amazed at his statement. “Sir, if I may be blunt, you are a hard ass. Use your first name? I never thought about it.”

This time he laughed out loud. “I can be slightly grouchy.”

“Sir, you made Private Moore cry last week,” Nia pointed out. “I’m sorry about your man down, sir.”

“That’s twice you called me sir. How about you call me Casey unless I otherwise specify, hmmm?”

She nodded. “Yes, si… I mean Casey.”

Nia looked at him out of the corner of her eye while he drove. She wondered what brought on the change. She had worked in the transcription office for the last year, and not once did he give her the time of day except to bark orders. That didn’t stop him from playing some very interesting roles in her dreams, roles that made her wake up gasping from the intensity of the dream, then to dipping her fingers in her moist pussy to relieve the ache.

The car stopped outside of the building where they worked. At night, the structure looked oppressive and intimidating. Even the dim lights that were changed to orange for the holiday creeped her out.

“You ok?” His voice made her jump.

“Um yeah, I never had to be here this late,” Nia explained as she stepped out of the car.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”