Only After Dark The Boxed Set Books 1 - 4: Shifters Forever Worlds (20 page)

R
ory managed
to stay on her trail, but not because of scenting. Clearly she had taken hunter’s block and eradicated her scent. What else could have stopped him from picking up her tigress’s essence?

The skill he was thankful for that kept Valencia Arceneaux on his radar in the woods was his ability to track visual signs, not his animal abilities. He’d been the best in his unit, long ago.

Nice to see I didn’t lose my skills.

Broken branches and displaced leaves, along with the occasional print allowed him to keep up, but stay a safe distance behind.

Once, he’d glimpsed her, then fallen back to make sure she didn’t pick him up. He’d rubbed the pine needle laden dirt on his body and clothes, smashed elm leaves against skin. None of this was enough to completely mask his shifter scent, but he hoped it would diffuse it somewhat. Unless the wind changed on him, he should be safe from discovery.

The wind carried voices his way.

A male voice.

Then he heard Valencia talking.

Was this a meeting? A boyfriend or lover?

Fury and jealousy ran rampant through his body, clouding his judgment for a brief moment. He shoved those emotions aside.

I have no rights to her. It’s not like we ever…

He shoved that thought aside.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He slipped behind a tree trunk, concentrating his shifter hearing.

There were two males.

And whatever their relationship with Valencia was, one thing was certain, it wasn’t friendly.

He snuck closer, careful to stay behind large trunks.

The men shot her with a Tranq.

Rory knew all about Tranqs. You don’t serve paranormal units in the military and not know about Tranqs. Too bad the private sector had access to them now. The special concoction, created especially for shifters was devastatingly effective at rendering a shifter unconscious.

Except…

The men were confused. They’d shot Valencia with it and she was still conscious.

They hefted her, the two of them carrying her, then one slung her over his back with the help of the other guy.

She landed on his shoulder with a grunt.

Bastards.

God, but he wanted to kill the sons of bitches. Rory reined his temper in. He needed to see if there were others and what their intentions were.

A few seconds later they smacked her on the ass. He gritted his teeth and almost rushed them.

They walked a few paces.

She squirmed. They dropped her on the ground unceremoniously. He stepped out from behind the tree. His wolf barely under control, pushing for a shift, wanting to kill them.

He didn’t have a chance. The men were freaking out and staring at Valencia. Rory looked to see why.

Valencia’s eyes were blood red and turning darker quickly. He’d never seen a shifter do that. It was one thing when their animal’s essence flared in the depths of their eyes—but what was going on with Valencia? No, this was very different.

Her features began to change. Her skull widened, claws sprouted. She bared teeth, revealing dentition that wasn’t human, definitely fangs. But she hadn’t shifted.

She snarled at the men, jumped to her feet, still in human form but with tigress characteristics.

It was as if she were frozen mid-shift.

Without warning, Valencia leapt toward the men. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She wrapped herself around the man with the Tranq pistol and sank her fangs into his neck. She twisted her head, swiveling back and forth, savaging his flesh.

The other man shifted into a brown bear and released a roar. The bear rushed her.

Valencia jumped off the now dead human form, his throat ravaged and bloody. The bear swung his mighty paw, claws razor-sharp and lethal.

Rory dashed toward them, beginning a shift that wouldn’t take more than a few seconds. Shifting he practiced regularly, to keep adept and quick.

He’d barely managed a few paces before the flurry of the scuffle between the half-shifted Valencia and the bear ceased.

The bear collapsed, throat wasted.

Noticing Rory, Valencia whirled around, her face a fearsome blend, yet beautiful, mix of white tigress and human. Her eyes were still blood red.

“Go.” She stepped back.

Emotions flooded Rory. She was the same woman he’d fallen for. Adrenalin coursed through his body. Anger that she’d vanished from their life together. Rage that the assholes were trying to hurt her. Concern that she’d have gotten hurt. Confusion with her half shifting and the speed with which she’d killed the two men.

He wasn’t going anywhere. She owed him answers.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Go. I have to get out of the moonlight.” She stepped further back. “Go before this thing makes me kill you.”

V
alencia stared
at the wolf before her. What the hell was he doing here? The bloodlust seized her, urging her forward, urging her to take his life, to seek his blood.

The wolf shifted to Rory quickly, then stood watching her.

Her heart warred with her body in the battlefield of her mind. A part of her wanted to kill—do nothing but kill, see and feel blood flowing. The other part of her couldn’t tear herself away from the vision before her.

It was him. The man. The only one who made her body and heart react with a passion that rivaled the fierceness of the bloodlust.

She stepped back, and then more, until she was out of the moonlight, until she was under the cover of the trees.

The blanket. She needed to hide. She felt the bloodlust receding, her flesh returning to human. The effect of the tranquilizer was already beginning to wane.

“You’ve got to go, for your own good.” She looked at her hands, felt the blood on her face. She drew her hands over her thighs, wiping them on the fabric, then continued. “As the moon travels across the sky, it becomes unpredictable. When moonlight touches me, things happen.”

Unless I’m buried under the blanket, and chained so I don’t decide to move.

“I said I’m not going.” His voice was gravelly, his wolf clearly near the surface. “Let me help you get cleaned up.”

She shook her head, the blood on her skin beginning to get sticky and uncomfortable. “You can’t. Just go. I’ll take care of it when the sun comes up.” She backed slowly, toward the deeper cover. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. What the fuck do you think?” Anger and frustration tinged his voice

“I need you to go.” She had to get under the blanket, and to chain herself.

“Nah. I don’t think so. And you can’t go out after the sun comes up. Not looking like that.” He pointed toward her face. “You’re a bloody mess. You have some explaining to do.”

“I’m not discussing what happened here with you.”

“Fine. Then you can discuss why you decided to stand me up and never see me again.”

Valencia looked down. Explaining what happened here tonight would be easier than telling him why she did what she did.

“It’s complicated.”

“Yeah. I get that you’re a bit complicated yourself.”

Even though Valencia was moving away, she couldn’t escape some of the tiny moonbeams that slipped through. She had to get him the hell out of there. “Will you fucking go?”

“Nope.”

“Even if I might kill you?”

“You won’t. Not after what we shared.”

“We didn’t share anything. It was nothing.”

He snarled and was upon her quicker than she could have reacted.

Rory pushed her against a tree trunk, his body pressed against hers. Hard muscles on her curves, trapping her. His scent reflected his emotions. This man was hellishly pissed.

At her.

Why? For saying we weren’t anything?

“You’re a goddamned liar,” he growled, his mouth close to her ear, his breath teasing tendrils. He pulled back, stripped his shirt off and wiped at her face. “Don’t tell me it was nothing. Tell that to your pulse.”

She cursed her telltale body, watching him in a white tank, muscles rippling, heat emanating from his hard body.

I can’t be involved with anyone. Not with this damned bloodlust.

She fought to shake his effect off.

And failed.

“I have to go. I have to get cover.”

“From?”

“The moon.” She forced the words out with an exhale. She’d never confessed to this before. Not since it happened to her. Not since it had become a part of her life. Not to a single soul.

“Fine. Let’s do that.”

“You won’t leave?”

He shook his head. Even in the dimness she could see those features. She’d memorized his every characteristic. The full lips. The dark eyes. The highset cheekbones. The way his mouth curled when he smiled. The way his wolf’s amber light shone through when he was feeling the thrall of passion.

God, why haven’t I been able to get him out of my mind?

He was watching her. His dark eyes seeking answers.

She turned her gaze away. She couldn’t have him seeing the responses to the unspoken questions. She asked again, “You won’t leave?”

He put his hand on hers, making her look up, then said. “Only to get supplies to help you get cleaned up.”

“I have stuff.” She started toward her bag, glancing behind to see if he really followed.

Pissed that he was.

Happy as hell, at the same time.

He gave her a look.

I thought I’d never see him again.

Her pulse raced, though she fought to control it. And deep in her mind and in her chest, her tigress made a series of low chuffing sounds that Valencia hadn’t heard in a long time.

R
ory followed her to a tree
. A length of chain, thick and shiny surrounded the trunk. Next to it the bag she’d been carrying, half the contents spread on the ground, half peeking from within. He studied the articles. Length of chain, tape, thick, dark blanket, clothing.

She was prepared.

For what?

“Valencia.” She looked at him, a curious gleam in her eyes.

Was that because he’d said her name? Because he knew it? Of course he knew it now, he’d been around her family. Or was it because he’d never said it before?

Because until today, he never knew the name of the woman he’d met and spent countless hours with, all of it online.

“Would you rather I call you by your screen name, Tigress4Ever?”

A small smile curved her lip upward.

God, he wanted to kiss her.

He’d need to get her cleaned up. It wouldn’t bode well to have anyone see her like this. He licked the pad of his thumb and ran it over her chin, clearing some blood.

“I have something better.” She knelt and removed an item from the bag.

“Baby wipes?”

“They work, don’t make fun of me.” She popped the top open and the air filled with the aroma of the perfumed wipes. Pulling one from the canister, she handed it to him. “Help me out? I don’t have a mirror.”

He took the damp cloth and began slow, methodical swipes on her chin, then moving to the rest of her face. When all traces of blood were gone, he let the wipe drift to the ground, his fingers still touching her, cupping her jaw.

He was torn with a dichotomy of emotions. Lust reigned, yet countered by the desire to have this woman as his forever.

Love.

Fuck, he didn’t want to say that word. Hell, he didn’t even want to think it.

I don’t do love.

His wolf snarled at his miserable declaration.

Shut up,
Rory snarled back.

“I’m Rory,” he said, because she didn’t know him as anything other than WickedWolf.

H
alf a year ago
…

L
ife had sucked
. It wasn’t that he had PTSD so much as that humanity—and shifters, had disappointed Rory. He was sick of seeing death. Sick of war. So when he came home from the service, he isolated himself.

Rory had heard there was a dating site online for shifters… and other types. But other types didn’t interest him. Then again, neither did shifters. Or romance. He had no interest in meeting women. But he was alone, and wanted to talk to someone. Anyone.

Rory had wanted to serve his country more than he’d wanted anything else. Reese had no interest in the military, finding solace in his cabin in the Texas hill country.

So Rory had served. Served until he’d found he had to get out or he’d make it personal.

But he was all kinds of fucked up when he got home. He wanted nothing to do with people or shifters.

It wasn’t advertised, you couldn’t troll it, or find it by accident. You had to have a verifiable account and identity, but it remained private to the admins of site.

Each individual could determine if they wanted to exchange personal information or even meet. He’d logged onto the Mystic Connection website. Known as MysticConn by those in the know. He’d made his profile semi-private, but never put his name or location.

He’d run into Tigress4Ever on the third day. Shortly after that, he made his profile private. He noticed hers became the same. Neither of them were open to meeting anyone else. He’d shared his deepest darkest secrets with her.

What the war did to his soul.

What the killing did to him.

How he’d never wanted to see or be around another living being for the longest time.

He’d been WickedWolf.

Valencia was Tigress4Ever.

T
hat was then
, this was now.

Y
eah
, this is definitely now…

“Rory.” The way she said his name gave him reactions. Fuck, her damned voice was like an aphrodisiac. Some of the reactions he hoped she wouldn’t see. It always had been. But now, not distorted by a microphone over a computer…

Yeah, his cock twitched and strained against his pants.

That was the other problem. The sexual attraction between them had been explosive from the very start. It was downright combustible.

“Rory what?” she asked.

“Rory Nielsen, of Houston.”

“And you were at Arceneaux Point…” She was clearly looking for elaboration.

“We were invited by Lézare—my brother and I.”

“Twins.”

He nodded.

“Did I see my sister with your brother?”

She didn’t miss much, did she?
“Before you left like a bat out of hell?” A smile crept to his face at the memory of the way she’d jumped in the car. “Yeah. My brother and your sister.”

He couldn’t elaborate more on that. Hell, he followed her and never got the details on how Reese and Alexa ended up together.

She released a growl, then a low scream, looked down at her leg, and started to squirm.

A sliver of moonlight was shining on the dark denim.

“The blanket.” She managed the words in a hiss of pain.

He grabbed a thick navy cover and flapped it open, then draped it over her. “Tell me what’s going on?”

Her eyes glowed red under the wool. “No. I can’t.” Her voice had a hollow quality.

“Valencia. You need to tell me what's going on. After everything we've been through, don’t you think you can trust me now?”

“That was then.”

“Just because I was
then
doesn't mean anything has changed, not for me.”

“I can't.”

“Fine, then tell me why you decided to vanish.”

“I can't tell you that either. It's tied into this.”

“Bullshit.”

Rory stood and walked away from the blanket. He squared his shoulders. This woman was tough. He picked up two sturdy branches and used them to make a tent out of the blanket.

“What are you doing.” Her voice was shaky.

“I'm making you a blanket lean-to. Giving you cover from the moon.”

She looked at him, but he couldn't read the expression in her eyes.

“The only beings I know affected by the moon are vampires.”

She gasped.

Really?
“Is that it? Are you part vampire?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“That is it.” He’d been around her long enough to know her expressions, even if it was via a webcam and a headset.

How could I not have noticed?
“How can that be? How did I not know?”

“My home was light-proofed. I never went out at night. Barely went out during the day. It happened just before I met you. I was attacked. I came home for the weekend and foolishly went into an area I had no business being in.”

“So now you are part vampire?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No. But there was bloodshare.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I have certain characteristics of theirs. It's the reason I don't go out. It’s the reason I was on MysticConn.”

“MysticConn is a dating site. It’s a place to get to know someone and then take it to the next level and meet in person.”

She turned angry, hurt eyes in his direction. “Oh yeah, then why were we on for months and months and you never told me where you were from? Or your name? And you never asked to meet in person.”

I was working up to it. I wanted to.

Fuck, did he ever. But he couldn’t tell her that. Every damned time he thought he’d worked up the courage to ask her to take it offline, he froze.

Now what was he supposed to say?

—I know, but I wanted to?

—I’m sorry?

Yeah, he had no clue what to say to that.

“So this vampire thing—”

“Fuck you, Rory Nielsen. I’m not a fucking vampire. I hate vampires. I have this damned curse. And I hate it.”

“Why haven’t you… couldn’t you… is there anything that could be done about it?”

She exhaled in a large whoosh. “I would’ve had to tell someone about it.”

“Now you have. Let me help.”

“You can’t. I don’t even know who could.”

“This is probably the last thing in the world you want to hear, but have you thought about talking to Lézare? He seems well-connected.”

She shook her head.

“Who were those guys?” He indicated toward the clearing with the two dead bodies. He’d have to get those gone before anyone—human or shifter—ran across them. “What did they want?”

“I don’t know. They were taking me to someone called Scanlon.”

Scanlon—that name meant something to him. He’d done his own fair share of research into the underground fighting ring, something Reese didn’t know. Rory was pretty certain Scanlon was the guy who organized the fights.

Those bastards were on Lézare’s territory seeking victims. They’d been in Dallas, and Houston, and now New Orleans.

Damn. I need to tell Lézare, Reese, and Vax about this.

But not now.

Right now, he finally had her back in his life. He’d never tell her the lengths he’d already gone to in order to find her. He was prepared to go farther to keep her in his life.

This meeting wasn’t an accident. It was fated.

“Tell me something. Why did you vanish?”

Her eyes widened. Her delicious lips parted, as though she had an answer at the ready.

Then she drew them into a thin line, and her face became a fortress.