Rhyannon Byrd - Primal Instinct 04 (19 page)

Just once more, he thought, uncurling his clenched
fists. Once more, and then you’ll be back in control.

Undoing the cuff at the end of his sleeve, he saw that
his hands continued to shake as he rolled back the dark cotton, slowly
revealing his bandaged forearm. Beads of sweat slipped from his shaved head,
sliding down the sides of his face. His mouth watered with anticipation.

Miles began to unwrap the stained bandages with slow,
methodical precision.

“Once more,” he chanted beneath his breath. “Just
once…”

As if drawn by an invisible wire, his gaze rose to the
photograph of Olivia Harcourt that he’d attached to the sun visor. Her smoky
eyes stared right back at him, into him, causing his pulse to pick up speed,
his heart banging violently against his ribs. He shifted restlessly in his
seat. She was breathtaking, really. And that scent, mouthwatering. It filled
the Jeep, emanating from the sweater he’d stolen from her home back in Lennox,
the sweater now draped over the back of the passenger seat.

His eyes began to burn, but he refused to blink. He
couldn’t, held transfixed by the violet eyes watching him. They tempted him to
do the unthinkable. To hunt her down and take what he so desperately needed,
truly satisfying the hunger ripping his insides to shreds.

“Too dangerous,” he whispered, shaking so hard that
his teeth chattered.

Keeping his gaze focused on the image of her face, he
reached down, grasping the lever for the seat, and pressed back until he was
nearly lying down, low enough that he wouldn’t be seen by anyone who happened
to walk near the car. Not that he wouldn’t hear their approach well before they
could see anything. He was safe from view there. Safe to do as he pleased.

Still, he waited, letting the anticipation build.
Letting it spread through his body, his cock hardening to the point that it
pulsed with a dull, throbbing pain.

A breathless cry trembled on his wet lips…and he
broke. Lifting his arm to his mouth, Miles finally sank his fangs deep, biting
through muscle and sinew. So good…so hot…

As the warm blood flowed over his tongue, his mind
filled with an image of Olivia Harcourt spread beneath him, screaming with
terror. Closing his eyes, Miles embraced the image, letting it bloom, the
fantasy spreading like a drug through his veins. He drank deep, going
light-headed as the dark spill of pleasure grew stronger, fired by the fantasy,
until he finally threw back his head, his mouth opened wide for a harsh, primal
roar.

It seemed forever that his lungs jerked for air, the
inside of the Jeep smelling of sweat and blood and come. Cracking his eyelids,
he struggled to focus his swimming vision on the photograph, his muscles
twitching. He cringed at the thought of what the others would say if they ever
learned what he’d done, feeding from his own flesh in a pathetic moment of
weakness. But what choice did he have? If he fed the hunger the way Schecter
had done, there could be consequences.

No, it would be madness to take such a dangerous risk.

He could be strong, damn it. He could fight it.

But as the last devastating pulses of pleasure swept
through him, he reached up, grasping the photograph in his bloodied fingers,
and brought it closer, studying the shape of her mouth. Her eyes. The silken
fire of her hair.

Beautiful.

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath, her scent
filling his head, and felt a sudden mental snap popping inside his mind.
Another snap followed…and then another, like firecrackers bursting behind his
eyes, the echoes ricocheting through his skull.

As the tension eased from his muscles, Miles was
vaguely aware of what was happening, the strained bands of his will finally
giving way like stressed elastic. As they continued to break, a slow, easy
smile curled across his damp mouth, the inevitability of what was to come freeing
him from his torment. No more resistance. No more fighting against what would
be.

His thumb caressed the photograph, stroking the
human’s cheek, her name lingering on his blood-covered lips like a vow.

Or a promise of something to come.

Saturday, 5:00 p.m.

RETURNING HIS CELL PHONE to its case, Aiden quietly
opened the driver’s door of his truck and climbed into the cab, easing back
behind the wheel. They’d been driving all day, almost nonstop—except for the
occasional need for a bathroom or fuel—and had finally pulled into the parking
lot of a McDonald’s for some food. Kellan and Noah, who were driving Liv’s car,
had run inside to order, while Aiden used the time to make a few phone calls.
He’d stood outside the truck as he talked, not wanting to wake Olivia and
Jamie, who had managed to nod off an hour ago. He envied them the peaceful
moments of oblivion, considering what the day had been like.

After dropping the “Death” bomb on them that morning,
Kellan had quickly reverted back to his typical smart-ass sense of humor. “Not
that I want to sound like a wuss or anything, but why do we always get the
nasties coming after us? I mean, why couldn’t it be something fun, like a flock
of rabid nymphs? Death just sounds like such a downer,” the Lycan had drawled,
prompting Jamie to lift her head and ask what a nymph was. Olivia had smothered
a laugh under her breath, then taken the little girl into her arms and told her
that they were mythological creatures who could turn into trees. Jamie had cast
a curious look toward Kellan, as if wondering why he’d want an entire flock of
them. But she hadn’t asked. She’d simply fallen silent again, just watching
them all with her big brown eyes, retreating back into her own little world, as
she had after the fight with the Casus.

Shaking his head, Aiden wondered what they’d have to
face next. First the Casus. Then the crazy-assed freak from that morning. He
honestly hadn’t thought their situation could get any worse, but it had. As if
having one group of monsters after them wasn’t bad enough, they now had to be
on the lookout for that foul-smelling thing to return…with more of its kind.
He’d been on edge every second of the day, eyeing the other cars on the road,
trying to make sure they weren’t being followed. But there was only so much he
could do. Though they’d had the odd rain shower, which would help slow anyone
tracking Olivia’s scent, they still didn’t know if the Casus were able to track
Jamie’s Merrick blood.

In fact, it seemed as if they were still gathering a
lot more questions than answers.

And the clock was ticking.

Tilting his head back, Aiden rested it against the
seat, while his mind wandered onto the long list of questions Olivia had fired
his way throughout the day, increasing the tension of the drive. Not that he
didn’t enjoy being near her, because he did. More than was wise. But their
conversations hadn’t been light…or easy. She’d plied him with questions about
what had happened in the parking lot, though there wasn’t much he could tell
her. He didn’t know what that thing had been or what it wanted from him…or why
Monica had referred to it as “Death.” She’d also asked about Noah, wondering
where he’d learned to fight the way he had, handling knives like some kind of
martial arts guru. In that at least Aiden had been able to give her some
answers, explaining a little about Noah’s rather unconventional upbringing,
though he was careful not to reveal too much. She trusted Noah, and he didn’t
want that to change.

And face it, man. You want her to trust you, too.

Surprised, he ran the unspoken, unfamiliar words over
his tongue, studying their flavor. Something pulled tight in his chest, and he
lifted his hand, rubbing at the odd ache burning just behind his sternum.

Though he’d have loved to deny it, the words were
true. Despite knowing it was an asinine, doomed-to-fail kind of idea, he really
did want Liv to trust him. Not just to keep her safe or to protect her,
but…well, in all ways. All the ones that mattered between a man and a woman.

Fool. Idiot. Jackass.

Ignoring the irritating chorus of voices, he shifted
in his seat, positioning his body so that he could simply watch her like some
kind of lovesick lapdog. The idea made Aiden’s lip curl, but he didn’t turn
away. He couldn’t, too riveted by the sight of her. The passenger seat had been
lowered a little, and she lay on her side, facing him, her cheek resting on her
hands. He enjoyed the unguarded moment that allowed him to simply stare,
soaking in the little details that he found so fascinating. The graceful shape
of her brows. The thickness of her lashes. The fullness of her bottom lip and
the smooth curve of her cheek. She didn’t wear any makeup today, other than a
light sheen of gloss on her bee-stung lips that just made him want to nibble on
them, licking and sucking and kissing. But then, she didn’t need to wear
makeup. Her complexion was flawless.

“Aiden,” she whispered, and for a moment he thought
she was talking to him. He’d already started to respond when he lifted his gaze
from her mouth and found her eyes still closed, her lids twitching. Obviously
dreaming, she moaned, whispering his name again, and his breath got all jammed
up in his throat, his heart damn near beating its way out of his chest.

She was talking in her sleep.

And she was talking about him.

Scrubbing his hands down his face, Aiden choked back
the thick animal sound that tried to crawl its way out of him. He was so jacked
up after touching her that morning, he felt as if he could go off at the
slightest provocation. And hearing her moan his name in her sleep was
provocative as hell. The animal in him wanted to scoop her up and run for the
trees that lined the back of the parking lot, where it could have her to
itself. Strip her, take her to the ground and go all kitty on her. Place its
scratchy tongue against the downy softness of her skin. Lick her from head to
toe, lingering on all her sweet spots.

Come to think of it, the man in him thought it sounded
like a hell of a plan, as well.

Like she’d let you, a bitter voice suddenly muttered
inside his head, jarring him out of his fantasy.

Think about it. Who said she was dreaming anything
“nice” about you?

Scowling, Aiden narrowed his eyes. He studied her
expression, searching for clues. She looked flushed, turned on, but who knew?
After what she’d seen that morning, maybe he’d become her worst nightmare.
Maybe he was just projecting his own desperate fantasies onto her. Maybe all
she wanted was to get away from him. Ditch his ass and never set eyes on him
again.

A loud, furious roar filled his head, and he winced,
grimacing from the pain. Ouch. Obviously the tiger wasn’t any happier with that
idea than he was.

Under the watchful intensity of his gaze, she shifted,
restless, her lips parting. Aiden felt himself drawn forward, poised on a sharp
edge of anticipation as he waited to see what she would say next.

A second passed. His muscles coiled, tension drawing
him tight…tighter.

Another second. He held his breath.

She sighed, her lips moving as she started to say—

Tap…tap…tap.

The quiet rapping of knuckles against the window at
his back caught him completely off guard. Startled, Aiden lurched in his seat,
smacking his head on the roof of the truck. What the…? Feeling like an idiot,
he slid a cautious glance toward Olivia, thankful to see that she was still
sleeping.

Unfortunately, the low rumble of laughter coming from
outside the truck told him that Kellan and Noah had thought it was funny as
hell. Whipping around, he gave a soft growl at the sight of Kellan bent
forward, one hand clutched around two large bags of food, the other crossed
over his stomach, as if he had to hold himself together. Noah stood beside the
laughing werewolf, his broad shoulders shaking with humor as well, while he
balanced two trays of supersized drinks in his hands.

Reminding himself that it wasn’t going to help his
case with Liv if she caught him clobbering his friends, Aiden climbed out of
the truck, quietly shut the door behind him, then shoved his hands into his
pockets, where they couldn’t get him into trouble. He scowled at Kell’s good-natured
ribbing, their laughter dying away as he brought them up to speed, relaying
what he’d learned from his calls. They decided they would go ahead and set out
again, eating as they drove, and after handing over a bag of food, as well as a
tray of drinks, Kellan and Noah headed back to Liv’s compact.

Balancing the bag under one arm, Aiden opened the
truck door and found Olivia sitting up in her seat, rubbing her eyes. She gave
him a soft smile as he handed everything over, then climbed behind the wheel.

“What were you guys talking about?” she asked as he
started the engine, reversed out of the parking space and followed Kellan back
out onto the highway. “The three of you looked tense. Did something happen
while I was asleep?”

“I made a few calls when we stopped. Talked to Quinn
again—” he’d already talked to Michael Quinn, the Watchman who was now engaged
to Saige Buchanan, earlier that morning, and asked him to inform everyone at
Ravenswing about the strange attack at the hotel “—then managed to get in touch
with Kierland.”

“And?” she asked, pulling a Happy Meal for Jamie out
of the bag.