Rhyannon Byrd - Primal Instinct 04 (20 page)

“It sounds like he could be on to something that might
actually explain what went down this morning. Last night he was approached by a
Deschanel.” He slid her a curious look. “You heard of them before?”

“Vampires, right?”

“Yeah. It seems there was a Watchman killed in Russia
a few days ago, the body drained completely of blood, which doesn’t mesh with a
Casus feeding. When those bastards feed, they take as much flesh as they can.”

She flinched, and he suddenly realized what he’d said.
Monica had been killed by a Casus, and here he was spouting his mouth off.
Christ, he couldn’t have been more callous if he’d tried. “Damn, I’m sorry,
Liv. I, uh, wasn’t thinking.”

She nodded, took a deep breath, then moved the
conversation along. “If not a Casus who killed the Watchman, then what?”

“That’s the thing. We don’t know.” He hit his signal
to change lanes, pushing the speed limit as far as he dared. “Rumors are going
around that it was a Deschanel kill, but the vamp who approached Kierland
denied it. Said they want to make a deal with us. Trade information about some
new threat to the Watchmen in exchange for Westmore.”

“He’s the one who’s working to bring back the Casus, right?”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Aiden explained why the Deschanel
wanted to get their hands on Westmore, as well as Kierland’s suspicion that the
murder in Russia could be connected to that morning’s attack at the hotel. He
also told her that another Watchman murder had been reported in New Zealand,
keeping the gory details to himself. While he talked, Olivia listened as she
woke Jamie up from her nap and set about unpacking their food.

“So what exactly is Kierland doing in Prague anyway?”
she asked, handing him his Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese.

With the burger in one hand, Aiden steered with the
other. “He’s still trying to convince the Consortium that the clans need to
make a unified stand against the Casus.”

Nibbling on her fries, she said, “Why does he want the
Consortium involved?”

“Because an operation this size needs central
leadership if it’s going to work. Kierland not only wants all the clans working
together, but he wants a system set up that will allow the Markers to be shared
among the different Watchmen units, who would then make sure they were
available to any Merrick who needed them.”

“But isn’t that dangerous?” she asked, taking a sip of
her soda. “I mean, obviously the Merrick need them in order to fight the Casus,
but what if the Markers fell into the wrong hands?”

“One already has,” he muttered, and quickly explained
how Westmore had already gained possession of one cross, making the current
tally, as far as they were aware, four to one. “In the beginning, we just
wanted to hoard the crosses to keep them safe,” he went on, finishing the last
of his fries. “But too many Merrick started falling. It became clear, pretty
quickly, that the only way to deal with this thing is to get the Markers out
there in the field, where the Merrick can use them.”

“And you have no idea how many Markers are still out
there, waiting to be found?”

“Not yet. But Saige is starting to decipher the maps
faster and faster, so hopefully we’ll have a count before too long.” Nodding
toward her soda, which she was trying to balance between her knees while she
ate her food, he said, “If you open up the glove box you can sit your drink in
the cup holder.”

“Thanks.” She popped the glove box open, then
immediately slid him a startled, wide-eyed look. Taking another bite of his
burger, Aiden hoped he’d remembered to move the stash of condoms he usually
kept in there.

“Something wrong?” he asked after he’d swallowed the
bite.

She tilted her head toward the open glove box. “Did
you know you have a bunch of wooden stakes in here?”

He laughed under his breath, feeling as if he’d just
dodged a bullet. “You remember the Kraven I told you about?” he asked, relieved
to be talking about weapons instead of his sex life. “Well, the only way to
kill them is to stake them through the heart with wood.”

She gave a soft, feminine snort. “You’re kidding.”

Aiden flashed her a wry grin. “I wish I was.”

“How…gross.”

“It isn’t pretty, I’ll give you that.” He wadded up
the wrapper from his burger, cleared his throat and forced himself to say,
“And, uh, speaking of other things that aren’t pretty, I’m sorry about
earlier.” He’d been too chicken to bring it up until now, but knew it needed to
be said.

“What do you mean?” she asked, opening the bag for him
to toss his wrapper into.

Heat crawled its way up his chest. “I’m sorry you had
to see that.”

“That?” Her voice held a quiet note of confusion, her
attention on Jamie as she twisted around to check on her.

“The way my claws released during the fight,” he
grunted, forcing the words from his tight throat.

He could feel her surprise as she swung her gaze back
to him, staring at his profile. “Don’t be ridiculous, Aiden. You were fighting
to protect me. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

He raked his hair back from his face, a restless
energy thrumming beneath his skin. “Yeah, you see…I, uh, I just don’t want you
to be afraid of me.”

“Don’t worry.” Another feminine snort. “It’ll take
more than some fancy claws to scare me off.”

His chest vibrated with a deep, gritty bark of
laughter as relief flooded his system, easing his tension, making him feel
mellow for the first time since the attack. Reaching down, he turned the radio
on low, then jerked his chin toward the backseat. “Since we’re on the topic,
have you told her what I am?”

She spoke quietly enough that Jamie wouldn’t overhear.
“She knows you’re a shifter, but not what kind. And in case you’ve forgotten,
you still haven’t told me what kind, either.”

“Curious?” he murmured, sliding her a quick grin, a
strange feeling of lightness in his chest now, as if he’d swallowed a balloon.

Her gaze slid away. “After seeing you this morning,
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

She looked…nervous, and his easiness began to fade. “I
would never hurt you, Liv.”

“I know that. It was just…you were one serious badass,
Aiden. Even when trying to fight something that was more mist than substance.
It’s just that…well, I wish I could be like that.” She lifted her gaze, giving
him another one of those soft, tender smiles. “Jamie deserves a champion like
you to look after her.”

“And what about you?”

“Me?” More nerves were revealed in that single shaky
word. Or maybe shyness. Either way, it was clear she didn’t like being the
focus of the conversation, but he wasn’t going to let it drop.

“What do you deserve, Liv?”

“I don’t understand,” she hedged, busying herself with
cleaning up the rest of their trash.

“Yeah, you do.” Keeping one hand on the wheel, he
reached out and caught her chin, pulling her face back around. A glance
revealed rosy splotches on her cheeks, burning beneath the pale skin. If he hadn’t
been driving, Aiden knew he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from
leaning over and touching his lips to those bright patches, tasting the heat of
her blush. “Come on, Liv. Talk to me.”

“All done!” Jamie’s little voice suddenly called out
from the backseat, breaking the spell. “That was yummy!”

“Saved by the munchkin,” he drawled, pulling his hand
back from her face. Liv shook her head in one of those
I-need-to-collect-my-wits kind of moves, then turned to collect Jamie’s
wrappers.

“Can we play a game?” Jamie asked, and after turning
off the radio, Aiden quickly found himself joining in a game of “I Spy.”
Afterward, Liv and Jamie sang silly songs that had him laughing out loud, while
inside his freaking head was spinning. He didn’t know who this man was, driving
the truck down the highway, enjoying the company of a human female and a little
girl, as if they were his to enjoy. As if they belonged to him.

As if they were one big happy family.

He should have been going out of his skull—but the truth
was that he couldn’t get enough of it. Was eating up each moment like a fly
with honey.

When Jamie decided she’d had enough of the games and
songs, Liv set her up with the iPod again to watch another Disney movie, and
Aiden reached down to turn the radio back on. He scanned the channels until he
found a classic rock station playing Van Morrison, then set the volume low
enough that they could still talk.

“God, I shouldn’t have eaten all that,” Olivia
groaned, nudging the McDonald’s bag with the toe of her shoe. “Every single one
of those calories is headed straight for my backside.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I’ll never understand
why women worry about their bodies like they do. Men like women with a little
meat on their bones.”

“I have more than a little,” she snickered.

Aiden slid her a crooked smile. “You’re damn near
scrawny, Liv.”

“Yeah? Well, you obviously need glasses, Watchman.”

“Perfect eyesight, actually,” he shot back, enjoying
their easy banter. “Better than a human’s.”

“Then you know damn well that I’m…plump.” Her voice
was light, and yet there was something edging the words that caught his
attention. Made him wonder if some jackass had actually said something to give
her a complex about her weight.

“In some places, yeah,” he grunted, his fingers
flexing around the wheel as he thought about how good it would feel to wring
said jackass’s neck. “The right ones. I mean, you are top-heavy.”

She covered her mouth with her hand as if to hold back
the soft spill of her laughter. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Face it, Liv. You’re tiny compared to me,” he offered
with a shrug, dragging his heavy-lidded gaze down her body for a quick
once-over before looking back at the road. Another light rain began to fall,
the sky darkening with thick, swollen clouds.

“Anyone is tiny compared to you,” she said dryly,
rolling her eyes. “Your mother must have had a heck of a time keeping you in
clothes when you were a kid.”

The M word hit him low in the gut, his stomach going
sour at the thought of the woman who’d birthed him, while a familiar burn of
rage swept through his system. He locked his jaw. Kept his gaze glued to the
road, taking slow, easy breaths as he watched the streams of rain meander their
way in jagged lines across the windshield.

“Did I, uh, say something wrong?” she murmured.

“Naw.” He rolled his shoulder. Shifted in the seat to
get more comfortable. Chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking that he’d
kill for a friggin’ cigarette. “I just don’t talk about my mother. Ever.”

He didn’t even realize he’d started to rub his right
wrist, until she reached over and touched her fingertips to his skin, making
him jump. The sensation slipped down his spine. Climbed back up with a surge of
heat that struggled against the knot of cold still sitting in his gut like a
lump of metal.

“When did you get these?” she asked, tracing the tip
of her finger along one of the intricate designs. Though he knew she could feel
the scar tissue that encircled his wrist, she didn’t say anything. Simply
followed the patterns of his tattoos with that light, easy touch that was
creating all kinds of havoc in his body.

Aiden cleared his throat. Reached down and rearranged
his dick to keep it from strangling. Fought to make sense of the strange
emotions crawling through him, prickling beneath his skin. “I got the tats when
I was fourteen.”

“So young,” she said with a soft note of surprise,
returning her hand to her lap. Part of him was relieved she was no longer
touching the tattoos, while another part wanted to shout, Put it back! Touch me
again! The gentle press of her fingers had been so different from the way women
normally touched him. There was no sexual intent in it. Just a tender, gentle
caring that rattled something inside him loose. He didn’t know what it was, but
could feel it banging around inside his chest, probably causing all kinds of
damage. Not that he cared. “You were still just a kid.”

“Naw, I was old by then,” he muttered, pulling his
hand down his face.

He could feel her unspoken questions blasting against
him, crowding the inside of the truck, and he ground his jaw, wishing he wasn’t
so screwed up inside. That he could be just a little bit closer to the “normal”
that she wanted for her life.

“Are they protection spells?”

He barked a gruff burst of laughter. “Not likely.”

“Okay. What, then?”

For a moment he almost considered telling her what
they were, then regained his hold on sanity and shoved the idiotic idea aside.
No sense scaring her off any more than he already had. Or would. Sooner or
later, he knew she was going to look at him as something that wasn’t good
enough to wipe her feet on, much less to lie down with. He just hoped he’d have
gotten his fill of her by the time it happened.

“Oh, my God,” she gasped, suddenly grabbing his arm.