When Angels Fall (21 page)

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Authors: AJ Hampton

BOOK: When Angels Fall
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Chapter Twelve

The drive to his father

s hunting
cabin was long and silent. Peter held the steering wheel tight, his jaw even tighter. Music drifted from the speakers, the melody loud despite its low volume. The noise punctuated the lack of conversation between Eva and him. He was well aware he should be saying something. He was also well aware hell would freeze over before he apologized.

Hot air poured from the vents, the heat nauseating him. Sweat gathered at the nape of his
neck
. His suddenly too-tight shirt suctioned to the sweat on his skin, suffocating him, adding to his discomfort. He tore his gaze from the icy, single-lane road weaving them deeper into the thick forest and glanced at Eva. Sitting as far away as possible, shoulder pressed against the passenger door, she stared out the window. Reflected in the glass, the lost expression in her wide-open eyes affected him in a way not much else had.

Tonight he

d fucked up. He opened his mouth only to close it seconds later. He didn

t know what to say now, hadn

t known two hours ago when he pulled from her swollen sex and watched his semen drip down her trembling thigh. Talking about it had seemed pointless. Saying nothing, he

d gotten out of bed and gone straight for the cold spray of the shower. He

d known spilling inside her was off
-
limits, had planned to pull out and coat her upturned ass. But she

d arched back and rolled her hips. Her moan, breathless, needy and just for him, echoed in his head, coaxed the pleasure from his body. The thought

J
ust one more thrust inside her

had spiraled. One thrust became two, then three, and then...

Sliding in and out of her tight sheath, the friction of their coupling tightened his balls and his skin. Her honey scent beckoned him, drove him harder and faster. He

d been ready to pull out, had gripped her hips to push her forward. And then, the procreating asshole of a leopard swept in and took all choice from him. Instead of pushing, he

d pulled and held. The moment he knotted, he
was
screwed.

Ironic considering he

d been the one doing the fucking.

The trees thickened, the road coming to a stop a few miles from their destination. From here, they

d have to hike. He put the truck in park, cut off the engine. With the radio now off utter silence descended. Several seconds passed. When he couldn

t stand it any longer, a first for him, he reached into the back seat and grabbed the backpack he

d prepared. Water, food, a flashlight, clothes, and an emergency blanket. He didn

t need those things, but Eva might.

He shoved the pack at her.

Take this,

he said, a bit more gruffly th
a
n
he
intended
,
and got out of the truck.

As he s
tepp
ed
out, blessed cold slapped him across the face and froze the lingering sweat on his skin. He breathed deep, the scents of the forest and the snow unclenching his stomach. He pulled his sweater over his head, tossed it onto the seat behind him and started on his jeans.


What are you doing?

she asked.

He turned, look
ed
at her. She

d pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail and exposed her throat. He swallowed, fought his bod
y

s reaction when she trailed her gaze down his chest, stilled on his hands unbuttoning his pants. His cock surged to life, and the fucking leopard
,
who

d been quietly gloating o
ver
his job well done, rose close to the surface. Peter bent, kept Eva in his sights, and untied his boots.


What does it look like I

m doing? I

m going to shift. My vision and sense of smell are better in leopard form. And if we run into anything menacing on the way to the cabin, it

ll be easier to rip out its throat.


Delightful,

she said, and got out of the truck.

Stepping out of his boots, he gripped the open door. His hand flexed around metal. As much as he didn

t want to, they needed to talk. Now was as good a time as any.

About earlier,

he said, his heart speeding at the mere thought of what they

d done, of the implications behind it.

Threading the pack over her shoulder, she looked up and met his gaze.

I don

t want to talk about it.

Probably better that way.

Fine.

He kicked off his pants, stood nude in the frigid air.

As if Eva didn

t want to, but couldn

t help herself, she looked him over from head to toe, stalling on the in-between parts. She licked her bottom lip, drew the flesh between her teeth. The surging scent of her arousal filled the air.


Careful,

he warned, fisting the base of his erect cock to keep the damn thing from shooting off. Her eyes grew wide, filled with a hunger instinct demanded he take care of.

I think I

ve already proved once tonight that I

m not in control around you.


I think,

she said, swallowed and took a step away from him,

we should get to the cabin and find out if this is where Greg died.

Murder should have dampened the lust coursing through him. Maybe because he was a predator, the notion of blood and guts did nothing to soften his dick. Maybe he was just fucked in the head.

Willing the leopard to surge forward, Peter embraced the shift. In the time it took to drop to the ground, cushioned paws indented into the snow and his tail thrashed behind him. Inhaling, scents filled his lungs. One overtook the rest. A low, rumbling sound of approval left his chest. Mate. He had one thought. Protect her above all others.

* * * * *

Eva never took her gaze off the agitated back
-
and
-
forth twitching of Peter

s long tail as he slinked forward in silence. His shoulder blades rose, and then fell, the spots on his coat rippling with every movement.

Damn it, she was jealous, among so many other conflicting emotions she refused to name or think about. After they got through this and found out who

d killed Greg, she

d deal with it. Her every step was loud and clumsy in the sleeping forest, the beam of her flashlight a poor source of lighting. She made it a mile, snow often deep enough for her to sink in to the knee, before exhaustion took hold. Her boot caught on an exposed limb, and she stumbled forward, almost falling.

Peter stopped, turning to spear her with an emerald gaze that said,

W
hat is the holdup?


I need a minute,

she managed through panting gasps. The jerk wasn

t even breathing hard.

She pressed her back against the closest tree, closed her eyes to protect them from the cold. A shiver coursed through her, the sweat from her exertion freezing her. Despite the gnawing temperature, she took off her heavy outer coat and stuffed it into the pack. Peter circled close, large paws crossing the snow with ease.

Sitting, he settled on to his haunches and watched her with eyes that radiated intelligence. Pushing off the tree, her palm scraped across the bark. She went to him, this time a bit more careful where she stepped. His ears moved, flattening and then perking at her approach. Thick whiskers streamed from
be
side his black
-
tipped nose, and now that he wasn

t snarling or exposing his fangs, they looked sort of cute.

She stuck out her hand, inched closer. He nuzzled her palm and huffed, the twin hot streams of his breath warming her instantly. With her other hand, she stroked the velvet spot between his eyes, then the increasingly thicker fur around his ears.

Heat radiated off him, drew her closer. A loud rumbling left his chest, and it took her a moment to realize he was purring. The gripping anxiety she

d felt after he

d left her cold and alone in the bedroom lessened. She sank her fingers through his thick,
coarse
fur until she found the layer of heaven next to his heated skin. Pressing forward, she rested her forehead against his broad one, taking a comfort the man wouldn

t have offered.


What you make me feel scares me,

she said, looking into his large, almond
-
shaped eyes. In this form, she felt like she could tell him anything. Probably best if she didn

t.

He blinked at her, nestled closer. Something unnamable passed between them. A vow not to hurt her, to protect her always, to care for her. She wondered how the leopard

s promises would affect the man whose heart had been broken long, long ago. Greg once explained that the two beings, man and leopard, while cohabitat
ing
together were separated, each having distinct thoughts and emotions.

In the blink of an eye, the unease wormed back inside. She didn

t want to contemplate Peter

s emotions. His agitated, stiff body language had said enough. He regretted spilling inside her, did not want the possibility of forever linking them together.

If she did turn up pregnant, would he stick around or would he leave? Instincts told her he

d stay. Her heart warned that he would regret his decision. Eventually he

d grow to resent her. Either way she was screwed.

She pushed away from the feline and rose to her feet, needing distance. Peter didn

t allow it. He walked close by her side, a warm blanket against her legs. Thirty minutes later, they made it to the south part of the forest. Peter shifted seamlessly, rising on two legs, fur receding as if it had never been.

Without a word, she dug into the backpack and pulled out a set of clothes he

d packed.


Keep them, I

m not cold,

he grunted, scanned the clearing
and trees
, seeing things she couldn

t. Had he watched his mother die right here?

She thrust the bundle of fabric at him.

You

ll get frostbite in places you don

t want there to be frostbite
;
at least take the pants.

A smile cracked the tight lines on his face and some of the tension between them dissipated. It was a step, a small one, but she

d take it.


How sweet,

he said, pulling on jeans, not bothering with the shirt.

You care about my male parts.


I don

t want to look at your male parts.

She pointed toward the edge of the trees where the silhouette of the two-story cabin pe
e
ked through branches.

If I were going to kill someone, I

d do it over there, toward the back of the house.

Peter nodded, walked barefoot through the snow as graceful
ly
as he had while in cat form. Nose to the air, he inhaled deeply, his muscular chest expanding then deflating. He sniffed the trees, bent to draw a finger through the snow. She watched, apprehension mounting. Would he find something? It hadn

t been long since Greg died, but more snow had fallen, surely covering any tracks.

A few minutes later, he froze and looked up sharply. Lines bunched in his back, and even from across the clearing his sudden rage washed over her skin. She jogged forward, stopped at Peter

s side, and pressed a trembling hand to her lips.

Black, hardened tar dripped down the tree trunk, the liquid no longer moving. Frozen blood. Something else adhered to the bark. Her stomach revolted.
R
emnants of Greg

s head. Hair, s
k
ull, and…brain.

Peter growled, the resonance vibrating the air. Fists bunched and air streaming from his nose
,
he speared her with a red-hot glare.

I knew it.


Who
se
smell are you picking up?

she asked, backing away from the rage dancing in his eyes.


Grady.

Vomit rushed up the back of her throat and she put a hand over her mouth to staunch it.

Peter kept on talking.

His scent is all over this clearing. There is no reason for him to have been here. Greg never would have taken him here, unless you


She shook her head before he could say it.

It

s been more than a year since Grady and I...and never here. Maybe Grady found out the same information we did and came to investigate—

He cut her off, stepped close enough for his skin to burn hers.

How dare you defend him? He killed Greg, the man you claimed to love.


I

m not defending him,

she shouted back. Her vision blurred. Furiously, she wiped at the moisture wetting her cheeks. She couldn

t stand the thought of Grady, a man she

d once trusted, doing something so cruel. What hurt worse was the judgment in Peter

s eyes.

He turned away to pace. Every so often he grumbled things like

I

ll rip out his heart,

and

H
e

s a dead man.

Back and forth, every pass increased his agitation. Claws shimmered in the darkness. Peter

s eyes changed, lengthening into feline slits.


If he murdered Greg I

ll help you kill him,

she said, her voice rising in strength.

That is,
if
he did it. We need proof, more than a scent.

He spun on her.

If?


Put your anger to the side and think about it. What if he didn

t, Peter? An innocent man will die because we jumped to the wrong conclusion. Grady knows about this place
;
maybe he fishes here on his days off or
,
like I said, maybe he followed clues not in the folder that led him here.

Peter stepped forward, bridging the distance between them. He gripped her hair, pulled her head back and looked deep into her eyes.


You still love him, don

t you?


No.


You lie,

he growled, closed his teeth around the front of her throat.

Her heart sped and she moved closer, thrust her head back in submission, the only thing she could think of to soothe him.

I swear to you Peter, I don

t love Grady, I never did. I care about him as a person, if he

s innocent. If he killed Greg, has threatened our Pard, then I promise you I

ll help you cut off his head.

The fist trapping her curls loosened. He pulled back, slowly took a step away from her. Incensed rage darkened his eyes, and she knew he wasn

t fully in control of the leopard. Both man and beast stared at her.

You

re mine, Eva. He won

t touch you again.

In this state of mind, she thought it best not to correct him.


Tonight,

he said,

we

ll break into the police station and go through Grady

s files. If he was here for a legitimate reason, he

ll have noted it. If not, then we hunt.

His nostrils flared.

We hunt.

Midway through the return trip to the truck, her flashlight died, her lack of sight making the trip twice as long. The first thing she saw on approach was a blinking light coming from inside the cab. Apprehension pricked. Her cell phone. She

d left it inside the cab. The flashing stopped for a second, then resumed in a fast rhythm to signal an urgent message. Three messages
,
it turned out. As Peter retied his boots, she listened to her voicemail.


Eva


T
here was a pause, but the one word was enough to tell her the caller. Jame
s.

God, Eva. I don

t know how to tell you this, but Becca
...

A long, silent gap filled the airway, and she imaged her uncle running a hand through his beard, thought maybe she heard the rasp. Her heart hammered inside her chest. Already her brain spun, desperately finishing the sentence in a number of different ways, none of them good. Her palms grew moist with sweat
.

She

s dead, Eva
.

Her hammering heart stopped.

Murdered at the clinic. The cops are here. Grady needs you to come by the scene, wants you to bring Peter with you. Get here as soon as you can
.

Dropping her phone, Eva pressed a hand to her stomach, a choked sob breaking free.


What is it?

Peter asked from the other side of the truck.

She swallowed, the sting of hot tears against her cold cheeks the only sensation she felt. She looked up, met his gaze.

There

s been another murder.

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