Primal Heat 2 (3 page)

Eli had left Havenway hours ago and she’d been—like a stalker—following him around the city. Why? She’d asked herself that question several times today and had only been able to come up with one answer—he was her mate.

Nivea was as sure of this as she was of her name. Especially after their little tryst, no matter how long ago that seemed to be. The shrink said she’d one day be able to love and trust and care for someone the way she was supposed to have been loved and cared for, and she believed it wholeheartedly. Just as she was certain that Eli was the one, if he could ever get past that chip the size of a boulder on his shoulder.

The moment she walked into the shop a couple of things greeted her. The quiet: a barbershop, similar to a beauty salon, was rarely ever quiet. The people: all eight of them were standing at the back of the shop, huddled together, staring toward something behind her. And as she finally turned her head to the left, she saw the knife that was being held to Eli’s neck.

*   *   *

“Fuck!” Eli murmured the moment he saw Cannon walk through the door.

Up until this moment he’d had the situation under control. Or at least he was getting there.

Pedro Rimas—the man currently holding the sharp blade to his neck—had been stopping by the barbershop, leaving messages for Eli for the past two weeks. Malik Drake, Priya’s brother who had been kidnapped two months ago and was still attending outpatient rehab for his decades-long drug addiction, had taken each message and made sure Eli knew about them instantly.

Eli’s first inclination was to ignore the messages. To forget that time in his life, the weeks when he wasn’t sure if he’d be sentenced to human jail for the rest of his life. Or if his cat would overrule the justice system entirely and carry them back to the forest. Nine years ago he’d killed Rimas’s brother, Lonzo, in a pool hall because the bastard had hit Leanne Campbell, Eli’s ex-girlfriend, knocking her unconscious. Rimas had been in jail at the time. Today, now that he was clearly finished serving his time, Rimas had come after Eli for revenge. Eli understood that motivation all too well.

“We don’t do your kind of hair,” Eli managed to say to Cannon, glaring at her from the bent back, headlock position Rimas had him in.

“Shut the hell up!” Rimas yelled, his arm tightening around Eli’s neck, the hand with the knife shaking so that the tip of the blade nipped Eli’s skin.

Blinking, Eli opened his eyes again to see Cannon’s lips moving but no sound coming out. Dammit, she was speaking into her com link, alerting the others that he was in trouble. They’d be here in no time, especially Ezra. He had to diffuse this situation and quickly. It wasn’t as if Rimas was stronger than him, or his cat, for that matter. But Eli had been trying his best to handle this situation differently, to not react the way he had the night he’d killed Rimas’s brother. It had been taking a hell of a lot of his strength but he’d thought he was making progress since the nutcase hadn’t sliced Eli’s neck open as of yet. Then, she showed up.

“I want you all to get out of here,” she said, moving back and opening the door.

She was talking to the barbers and clients that a few minutes before Eli had ordered into the back of the shop.

“Come on, get out now!” she continued, moving her arms to direct them.

She stood with her back to him and Rimas while she waved the people out. Malik had looked at Eli, then to Cannon in question.

“Get moving. I’ve got this,” she told him.

From behind her, Eli nodded, telling Malik it was okay to listen to this unarmed female. Well, Malik would think she was just an unarmed female. Only Eli knew better.

“This doesn’t concern you, bitch!” Rimas yelled at Cannon when everyone else had cleared out of the room.

She turned slowly, refusing to look at Eli.

“He’s right,” Eli said. “This doesn’t concern you.”

A brow arched, the right side of her mouth lifting in a partial smile as she took a step forward. Nobody looked as sexy as she did in that guard’s uniform. Even with her hair pulled back tight in her signature ponytail, she was every bit as alluring as any model on the front page of a fashion magazine. Only better because there was an edge to her along with a bit of poise that he only now admitted had been the first thing to attract him to her.

Now that personality trait might be what got her killed. No, he corrected himself instantly, he’d never let that happen. Not again.

“Looks like we’re having some type of disagreement here,” she said calmly. “And hey, if he overcharged you, I can believe it. He’s a shady character if I’ve ever met one.”

Eli frowned as she talked to Rimas, ignoring him and probably thinking she was helping. Inside his cat growled, ready to strike, needing desperately to shift. His spine tingled, moving beneath his shirt, all too ready to bend and conform to the cat’s will. But he couldn’t. Exposure to this human at this time would be too detrimental for the shifters. Besides that, once the cat was released, Eli would lose all control, just as he had before.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” he said tightly. “Get. The. Hell. Out of here!”

She didn’t even look at him as she took that next step, didn’t seem to care what she was walking into.

“We can resolve this without violence,” she told Rimas.

“He’s dying here today. I’m gonna gut him the same way he did my brother and if you don’t get lost I’m gonna do the same to you!” Rimas yelled at her and something inside Eli vibrated, his body shaking with its intensity.

“Are you going to let him get away with that?” she asked Eli, finally looking at him.

Her intention to diffuse this situation was clear in the set of her shoulders and the glare of her eyes. Eli watched with growing trepidation. He stood up straight then, pulling Rimas’s arms with him.

“Keep still, you prick!” Rimas yelled. He was shaking and yet trying to keep his hold on Eli.

It was useless. Eli flexed his back muscles, jerking free of Rimas’s hold, simultaneously elbowing the guy in the gut. All actions he could have taken before. He hadn’t because to do so would have further enraged Rimas and possibly pushed Eli to shift into his cat to take care of the bastard once and for all. That was not a scenario he wished to play out, not here and not now that the shifters had so many other issues going on.

Just as he was patting himself on the back for keeping the worst from happening in front of his staff and customers, Rimas came up quickly, lunging forward, knife held high. Eli leaned to the side to avoid the stick of the knife and punched him again in the jaw. His claws had extended, leaving a long scratch across the man’s face that leaked with blood immediately.

He frowned, trying like hell to bite back all that boiled inside, the anger mixed with the power. Eli took a step back, praying the cat and all the darkness from that stupid shaman treatment kept it together. They had to work together, the three entities to keep the peace, the balance …

There was a movement behind him and the next thing he saw was Cannon lifting a leg to kick at Rimas. The man grabbed her leg quickly, bending it and stepping into her, thrusting the knife deep into her shoulder before Eli could even blink.

But blink he finally did and when his eyes opened again, they were the cat’s. On a deep inhale he picked up the scent of her blood, rich and acidic, and fury darkened his gaze, pumping into every muscle of his body. Eli lunged, cat’s teeth and full claws bared, only his prey in his sights.

He swiped at Rimas from behind, pulling him by the shirt off of Cannon and tossing him into the wall with such force the drywall caved with the outline of his body. Rimas slid to the floor and Eli was on him, swinging and striking, seeing nothing but blood red.

Eli’s vision blurred for a moment as his fists continued to batter the man on the floor. When it cleared there was blood everywhere. It filled the room, ran down the walls onto the dirt floor. Acacia’s body was limp and still they’d attacked. The sting of betrayal had only been the tip of the iceberg. The shaman’s potion laced with damiana had reportedly enhanced the warrior instinct the twin shifters had been born with, turning it into something darker, deeper, more tainted than either of them had foreseen. They’d killed her men too, just before taking Acacia down, so that their bodies were drenched in blood, their chests heaving with the exertion, cats roaring at the conquest.

“Stop, Eli! Stop!”

It was Ezra yelling into his ear, holding onto his arms, and pulling him across the room. The room that was no longer in the Sierra Leone. Eli’s back slammed against the wall, his heart pounding against his rib cage as his vision finally cleared, the curtain of red slipping away so that his brother’s sea-green eyes stared back at him, a grim look on his face.

His cat roared, so loud the sound vibrated throughout Eli’s entire body and he closed his eyes tight to endure the tremors. Then the scent wafted into his nostrils and his eyes shot open. There was blood, again, this time dripping onto the floor from her arm as she stood. She was looking at him and Eli bolted up onto his feet. In seconds he was on her, his hands shaking as he took her arm, felt the warmth of the pouring blood, and saw the angry gash at her shoulder.

“She’s going to be okay,” he heard a voice from behind. “Aidan’s on his way with a truck now. He was the closest to us when I headed this way. He’ll take her back to Havenway and Ary will fix her up.”

He knew the voice. His brother, his twin. Alongside the voice was another sound. A heartbeat, Ezra’s maybe? Eli felt totally open, vulnerable to every emotion, every nuance of being a shifter and then some. But it wasn’t Ezra’s heartbeat he heard echoing in his ears. It was Nivea’s, he knew because he was touching her and the sound matched the pulsing at her wrist.

“He hurt you,” Eli said, his forehead furrowing as he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her wound.

“I’m okay,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “Just a little cut.”

She was trying to reassure him. It wasn’t working. He turned from her then, his teeth bared, the cat’s roar sounding loudly throughout the room.

“Just hold on,” Ezra said. “Hold the hell on! She’s going to be okay. And he’s alive.”

The latter wasn’t what Eli wanted to hear. He lunged forward, ready to complete the task he’d begun, but Ezra was there, blocking his body with his own, pushing Eli back. This time Eli didn’t fall away so easily. He pushed against his brother’s barrier, trying to get to the bastard that had hurt Nivea. She was bleeding, a lot, and the sight had Eli’s stomach churning, his temples throbbing with the need to retaliate, to kill.

“Take care of her, Eli! Go back to Havenway and take care of her!” Ezra continued to yell into his brother’s face.

Eli roared again, his claws clicking against each other as his fingers clenched and retracted. His chest felt full, like the breath coming through was a terrific struggle. He wanted to yell “no,” to tell Ezra to get the hell out of his way or end up on the floor as well. But he couldn’t. He roared again, this time in disappointment and confusion. He wanted the death, felt the power of it rippling through his veins. Inside him lived a killer—all he had to do was unleash it completely. It would be so simple to let go and move forward, to take the life that had harmed hers. To end it as it had begun, with violence.

Then his entire body warmed and he stilled, the war raging within him ceasing immediately. She had a hand on his shoulder. It was her good arm, the other one slack at her side, drenched in blood.

“Let’s go home,” she said quietly. “The truck’s out back. We can leave right now.”

He didn’t want to leave, and yet, there was a part of him that did. It wasn’t running, no, he convinced himself that wasn’t the case. But he could walk away with her, with Nivea, and not have to see her die because of events he’d set in motion. Not this time. She would still be alive. Unlike Acacia, and eventually Leanne.

Eli took a step.

“I’ve got you,” he said, bending slightly and picking her up in his arms. “We’ll go back and get you some help.”

She looked like she was about to say something, but in the end, simply nodded. He walked to the back of the barbershop and out the door to the waiting SUV. Aidan had already gotten out and was holding the back door open. Eli only nodded to the other shifter before climbing onto the backseat with Nivea still held tightly against his chest. With each inhale he smelled her blood. That scent permeated every crevice of his body, until his heart pounded, his cat hissed, and the thought of ever losing her settled like a dark cloud in his mind.

*   *   *

“Your bath is ready,” Eli said an hour after they’d been at Havenway.

Ezra had been correct, and Ary had neatly sewn the gash in Nivea’s shoulder closed. In a day or so it would heal completely, the stitches dissolving on their own and Nivea’s shoulder returning to normal. That was the way Shadows healed, fast and neat, unless the injury was fatal; then they died just as any ordinary human. Other than that, cancer was the only human ailment that could also kill a shifter. It was complex, the ins and outs of their genetic makeup, which made him realize how foolish it was to ever try and duplicate it. Unfortunately, Captain Crowe was obviously not privy to that same knowledge. Either that or he simply did not care, which Eli was personally putting his money on.

Nivea was sitting on the side of Eli’s bed where he’d left her. She’d wanted to go to her own area, had said she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Still, he’d brought her here. Her room at Havenway was on the other side of the complex, near the western exit and supply room. He wouldn’t hear her if she cried out in pain from all the way over there. With his shifter senses, he probably should have, but he wouldn’t. Or at least he wasn’t certain he would, and so that had not been an option.

When she didn’t move immediately he went to the bed, reaching for her hand to lead her.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” she said when she looked up at him.

Blood still stained her clothes. Half the white tank top she’d worn beneath the guard T-shirt was red. The skin along her chest and one arm was stained with the color. Even the side of her face and jaw had blood on them. It made him frown, even though the cat had long since calmed to an almost normal state.