Beauty and the Brute [Werescape III] (7 page)

Her arms loosened. She leaned backward, the heat of her body easing away. Her hands sliding to my waist.

Wolf whimpered.

Stupid animal. He'd get me killed if he didn't get his shit together.

"What are you going to do with me?” she asked a little too softly.

Weak vulnerable words reflective of how she felt. I needed to put the Normal in her place.

Show her who was in charge. So her question didn't deserve an answer.

Her hands slithered off my body altogether.

Silence. Blessed silence. A man could think without a woman's hands on him.

* * * *

Something changed. My Guardian had been explaining things. Then he stopped. He just quit speaking. No riddles. No biting words. He just stopped talking. What did that imply? I curled my fingers around the seat of his saddle and tried to concentrate on not squeezing my grip too tightly my knuckles remained pink.

No sense in wearing myself out clutching the saddle when he warned me to hold on before prompting his mount into jerking movement. And no sense in wondering about the unknowable future. He hadn't traded me to the traders. What did it matter why at the moment? Brutus saved me. From the extraterrestrials. From Yale. From the traders. And gave me a gun. I could put a bullet in his head right now. Just like that. Then where would I be in the wilderness right beyond Yale's barbed-wire palisade? Facing creatures far worse than the aliens’ Bounders and their yearning for human flesh. Facing the AEI human world a woman dare not face alone. A world run by males who use women like a saddle or a horse. Where

Brutus is the only male I had. The only male I could believe in at the moment.

The soft thump from the horse's placement of hoof, a snap of twig, or the horse's snort was all we heard as the sun quietly climbed overhead. At last, the glittering surface of a small pool sparkled between distant tree trunks. Calling to the stallion. Before I knew it, Brutus stood on the ground, reaching up for my waist, lifting me from the saddle.

Thank the stars. I couldn't have shifted a leg over the rise of the horse's hind quarters for the life of me.

My boots hit solid earth.

But my legs weren't cooperating. I tried to straighten them. To make them work.

I wobbled.

Brutus just stood there, his fingers curled around my waist.

I must have looked pathetic. Incapable of riding a horse.

"Walk around,” he said firmly. “We'll stay here a while until your legs feel better."

That would be a long time. At least he showed some concern about my wellbeing. Or was his concern more for a highly-valued commodity of a female he transferred to the place he'd make the best profit?

My gut flopped.

Fear. He could read my reaction. Sense it. Better to walk than stand around sending messages that could get me more unwanted attention. I began pacing, stretching the soreness out of my thighs.

He went on about his business washing his hands and the back of his neck with the murky dark water.

Like he could wash away the morning's stress. Thank goodness I had used the damned gun. He probably had a little more respect for me. Or knew to be wary of his charge now. But a

Normal could trust a Shifter. That was the way of things. They protected us if we asked for help. Always. It's how humans survived the alien invasion. It's how I would survive the nightmare of Yale planning to give me to the extraterrestrials.

Brutus might ration out his words and stare at a person like he would kill him if he wiggled.

But Brutus was all I had going for me. I had to just keep quiet, follow instructions, and try not to be a hardship. I stopped at the pool's still edge and studied the clouds and blue sky mirrored upon the flat surface.

My gut snarled.

The whisper of approaching boots in the grass came up behind me.

Brutus.

He claimed a spot next to my elbow, worked the end of a small leather pouch open, and passed the gaping opening over to me with one of those strong hands. “Eat."

His skin wasn't pale like other redheads. More like almost olive. But not quite. No freckles.

Flawless? Maybe the color was a Shifter thing? Better than simply Normal skin. Flesh capable of changing in an instant, allowing him to turn into a werewolf. Something about it had to be different. And he'd prepared for travel by bringing food. “Thank you.” I took the pouch.

More dried berries. Walnuts and pecans. Spring had yet to produce the same treats this year.

Brutus studied the distant side of the pool.

My gaze followed his line of sight to some small dead young trees.

Leafless. Unattached to the rest of their surroundings. Existing without consuming anything in the area. Like us. Passing through.

"When can you ride?” he asked without looking away from the scraggly tree trunks.

"I'd rather go than stay here."

He turned that emotionless mask to me, boring a hole through my skull.

Heat crept up my cheeks.

What in the hell did he want?

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Chapter Four
Brutus kept Trance walking through the forest heading west. Into the setting sun and the Ohio

Territory. Right to a remote little cave tucked into the side of a hill. Safe enough to hide us for the night. A long night no doubt. Especially after I lit a fire and seated Lorelei near the hot flames. The fire just might save her from Wolf. Cut her scent. Wolf wouldn't sit still whenever I was this close to Beauty. He pounced. Yapped. Drove me insane with his tongue hanging out.

The journey would be pure misery.

Why had I gone after her? I studied her body's dark silhouette from behind.

She sat on a flat boulder, leaning slightly forward as if the fire drew her to its seductive light.

Like a deer standing still to go unnoticed. And a perfect little white-tailed doe she was.

Beautiful face. Sleek. Ready for mating. To shove her against a wall. To let Wolf have his way with her. To sink my fangs into the throbbing pulse of her neck.

Wolf licked his lips.

I went rock hard.

Why couldn't I control my thoughts? What had I done touching her hand to yank her up behind me on Trance that first day?

The fire's golden light danced with shadows beyond the fire.

But she didn't notice.

Beauty sat quietly, statuesque, until the crickets began chirping.

Then her heart thrashed.

Why was the sound so awful?

Watching her well-groomed resolve slowly fall away was far worse. One-by-one, she began swatting at what could be nothing but nervous itches. Maybe insects occasionally crawled on her. But not as often as she smacked at herself. How could she be so annoyed by beetles, daddy longlegs, and crickets? Especially when we'd managed to find a cave local bats didn't call home.

She bolted onto her feet and jerked her palms across every surface of her body.

Panicking.

No. Not tonight. Bounders were out. We had to lie low. Be quiet. And I get the woman afraid of bugs.

She leapt toward the cave entrance.

Holy shit. I pounced, shoving her curves into a wall, fighting her flailing limbs, pinning them to her sides.

She twisted in my grasp. The brightest glare I'd yet to see in her eyes burned my direction.

"Let me go!” Her sleek curves slithered against my chest and thighs but couldn't loosen my arm hold.

"Calm down, Lorelei. Nothing in here is going to hurt you."

"Easy for you to say,” she spat in my face. “Let me go, damn you.” She kicked me in the shins.

Now, little mattered when Shifters had a code about hurting women. Even when a man needed to dance a fucking pain dance. But hopping while rubbing my shins wasn't going to do me any good if she bolted out into the moonlight. “Quiet,” I snarled.

To no effect.

She squirmed worse than a salmon determined to find its way back into the river and upstream. “Dammit, let me go, Brutus."

Hell. I grabbed the base of her braid and yanked her head back until her jaw gaped at me.

"You will calm yourself before you draw Bounders."

Air knifed as she sucked in choppy breaths. She could have impaled my neck with her pointed chin if she snapped her head free of her hair fisted in my hand.

But Beauty wasn't strong enough to manage such a feat. Or to keep my eyes from straying to the surging sound of the salty treasure racing through her jugular to feed her frantic brain.

Metallic blood.

Mine, Wolf growled.

Oh, no. No. Shut up, Wolf. I stared into her eyes and inhaled a long deep breath.

Not good when everything about a woman, the warm silk of her hair, the tender velvet of her skin, the perfect curve of her lips, the lingering burn from her arms wrapped around my chest, the bulge of her breasts, everything reminded me of mating.

Kiss, Wolf hissed.

The exquisite little line etching those perfect lips lured my gaze.

To just take a kiss. Pillage. Plunder the promise of moist heat. No. Not a Normal. I jerked my gaze back to her bitter stare.

She had quieted. Good. But how would she behave if I released her? “I will not allow anything to hurt you."

The deep grooves in her furrowed brow lessened.

"In this cave, Lorelei, are some beetles and crickets. Nothing dangerous. Or my Wolf would have sensed the danger. We are safe here. You must trust me. We can't afford dealing with

Bounders tonight."

Slowly her stare shifted from a pinched scowl to that of understanding.

Even the tension in her limbs faded. Or I'd be screwed. Rather, she would. Because Wolf wasn't backing off. “I'm going to release you."

She nodded.

Why the iron rod in my pants didn't warn her to get the fuck out of here, I don't know. But she took one step away from the hard wall, toward me, following my retreat from her warmth as if she preferred I hold her, and rubbed the base of her skull.

I'd hurt her. Been too rough with her hair. Hell, she could have gotten herself killed running into the night. The woman needed to sit back down and think before she reacted. “Come. Sit by the fire.” I waved toward her rock.

She smacked her lips.

Thoughtfully. Like the memory of blind crickets playing their little symphony was a threat. “I

have food.” Maybe she'd sit for food.

She wagged her head, eyes pinched like something pained her, and planted her sweet little ass back on her pedestal.

Lucky boulder. My crotch was so damned hard she could have perched on it all night in an act of mercy. But something about her stiff composure and pained expression echoed she didn't do Shifters. What in the hell for? Most women fell at my boots. Begged for anything. A glance.

Five minutes of my ramming into their tight little bodies kneeling before me. And here Beauty sat, ignoring me.

Kiss, Wolf pleaded.

I doubt she'd do anything other than run into the night's darkness and a pack of Bounders.

She turned a questioning mask to me. “Brutus?"

Now a soft voice. Why? I arched an eyebrow, cocking my chin in reply.

"Maybe we could build another fire or two. Small ones. Around where I sleep so the bugs wouldn't, uh, reach me?"

Why did I feel like an ass? She was too damned afraid of crickets to even think about the fact

I was a Shifter. Nothing prejudiced whirled in her thoughts though. Her mind was locked on survival. Not that crickets ever killed anyone I knew.

Not much time passed before she curled up in a fetal position with a few stone-circled fires dancing around her. I couldn't bring myself to mention the flames attracted insects. Nor could I argue the futility in spending time and energy constructing more fires. I just sat near her ass like another hearth and studied the swell of her hip.

Her back faced me.

"Thank you, Brutus,” she mumbled.

Pathetically. So, I'm an asshole. “Try to sleep.” I'll be up all Gods-be-damned night with this pinched hard-on. Wolf breathing down my neck. But an asshole deserved the torture.

* * * *

Lorelei tried to sleep on the cavern's dirty hard surface. Tried to forget about the cave floor crawling with insects. But Yale's mansion never had such an infestation. Unlike the crawl space on that fateful day. Where I hid when my parents were killed. How I choked down my own screams when my parents were slaughtered was miraculous.

And now I live because of another miracle. Because my intuition told me to run. Lying here in the dirt was just what my intuition needed me to do. To be strong. To survive because of

Yale's lies. And then I behave like a squealing girl. What a fine way to thank the Shifter who saves me. Why hadn't Brutus tossed me out of the cave? A wise man would have.

Something popped behind me.

Probably a joint popping from him stretching his arms. Iron arms. He'd been rough with me, holding my body against the wall while yanking my hair. Or maybe he'd been firm. Careful.

The way he'd been with his horse, checking its legs. The way he was each time he helped me down from the saddle. Yes. He was just helping me. This Shifter who others feared proved time and time again that he wasn't the barbarian rumor claimed him to be. Maybe a little demanding. But I didn't dare begin believing the wildness in his commanding gaze reflected anything other than his distaste for Normals. Me. I was merely another Normal thorn in his side. And, for some reason, duty obligated him to help me. Or he helped himself to whatever end he could picture for his efforts in salvaging my life. And he damned sure had an end in mind with the steely shaft he'd pressed against my belly. Most likely an end that didn't keep

a squealing female underfoot.

God, why do I keep thinking these depressing thoughts?

Just close your eyes.

Go to sleep.

He built the extra fires. So, the man was accommodating. Not evil. Just male. Thankfully not a groping asshole like Yale's men. If I hadn't had a Guardian of my own for years, I would have been misused by Yale's animals. Ruined. Forced to have abortion after abortion like

Yale's servants who chose not to give birth, raise, and feed starving bastard children. But that was the way of life AEI. A woman's life. I studied the flickering golden flames.

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