The Road to Redemption (15 page)

Damien moved
in, landing a hit to her ribs then one to her thigh before she
regained her footing. He attacked with a calm, focused intensity,
each kick and punch delivered in rapid succession. Sam blocked him
over and over, barely having time to deliver any strikes of her
own. When she did, they counted as evidenced by his grunts of
pain.

Left, right.
Spin and kick. Keep her arm up. Dodge to the side. Duck under his
blow and come up inside.

Adrenaline
surged through her, heightening her senses. His scent, the sound of
his breathing, the tang of sweat in the air. All her attention was
on the man before her. The purpose of the fight, the reason she’d
confronted him to begin with, faded into the background.

Sweat dripped
down her face; she shook her head to clear her vision and then
moved to deliver a roundhouse kick forgetting his comment about her
dropping her arm too much. That was when he made his move.

Damien knocked
her backwards, the force of his blow reverberating through her so
that she staggered and fell against the wall. Before she could
react, he moved in, his hand gripping her throat, his body pressed
fully against hers.

For a moment
they froze in place. Damien’s lips were drawn back in a snarl, the
silvery blue of his eyes seeming harder and colder than usual. Sam
swallowed with difficulty, her neck stretched so that her chin
tilted upward, the vulnerable arteries exposed. She was vividly
aware of how her damp t-shirt stuck to her skin, the way every
breath he took caused his chest to rub against her breasts. His
thigh was tucked between hers, his fingers pressed into her flesh.
He could easily crush her windpipe, yet she wasn’t scared.
Exhilarated, breathless, horny…

Damien took a
deep breath and slowly released her throat. As he moved to step
back, her wolf howled in protest and, before she could even think,
she reached up, grabbed his head and kissed him hard.

His body
stiffened, but she didn’t care. Here was a male she could meet on
her own terms. Rising to her toes, she assaulted his mouth and,
when he began to relax she pulled him closer, dragging her fingers
through his hair, pulling at the silky black strands.

Sam felt him
hesitantly wrap his arms around her. For some reason he was
fighting his desire for her, but his resolve was crumbling. Yes!
She wanted him, needed him. Whimpers escaped her as she urged him
onward and then, as if released from a tight rein, he crushed her
to him, kissing her as if he’d been celibate for years. He grabbed
her hair, holding her head still as his tongue plunged into her
mouth. She met him, stroke for stroke, challenging him, teasing
him, revelling in this new battle they waged.

Desire raged
out of control and she straddled his thigh, desperate to be closer,
to feel more of him. He wanted her. The evidence nudged against her
through their clothing. She clawed his shoulders, arched her back
as he squeezed her breast. His hand cupped her rear, lifting her,
and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Damien rocked
against her and she moaned at the building inferno within her.
Licking his jaw, she made her way down his neck. Her tongue
encountered a slight mark on his skin, what felt like an old scar
and just as she kissed it, he jerked as if ice water had been
dumped on him.

Before she
could even process what was happening, he was pushing her away,
barely giving her enough time to get her feet under her before
stepping back.

He was
breathing heavily, his eyes reflecting his confusion.

“Damien?” She
took one step towards him, but he backed farther away.

“No. I…
Sorry.” He dragged his hand through his hair and shook his head.
“This was a mistake.”

“The kiss? Or
the fight?” Sam frowned, trying to understand.

“The kiss.
Maybe both.” He looked away. “I’m mated, Sam.”

A cold feeling
washed over her at those words. Had he lied? She hated liars. “I
thought you said she was dead.”

Damien
blinked. “Yes. Beth is…dead.” He swallowed hard and began to back
away from her. “Uh… Listen, we’ll talk later…about fighting
techniques. I have to go.” He turned and walked quickly towards the
stairs.

Sam debated
about pushing the issue. After all, she still hadn’t found out what
he was up to when he went out on his own, but this wasn’t the time.
Besides, she wanted to mull over their encounter. His mate was
dead; she should feel guilty that she was relieved by that fact.
Wishing someone dead wasn’t…nice. Her mouth twisted at the bland
word, but how else did you put it?

“Tonight on
patrol. We’ll talk then.” She called the words after him. He didn’t
reply.

As the sound
of his footsteps faded, she leaned back against the wall and slowly
ran her tongue over her lips. The taste of him lingered there and
the animal inside her hummed its approval. Strange. Her wolf had
never reacted this way before. Human males were, quite frankly,
boring. And Lycan males… Well, being a female Alpha had certain
disadvantages in that area. Her grandfather had warned her numerous
times to be wary. ‘
You’re attractive enough to get a mate on
your own merit, but your position in the pack will require extra
caution.
You’ll never know if a male is simply trying to
find a fast track to power. If anyone shows an interest in you,
double check his motives first.’

She’d heeded
his advice, turned away a few losers who thought to fuck their way
into power, but that shouldn’t be a problem with Damien. He was a
rogue who picked up odd jobs here and there, not the type to want
to take over the pack. Of course, rogues didn’t settle down, but
was that what she was looking for?

He is a
male worthy of us. The others were not.
Her wolf cleared up the
confusion.
This is the one we should keep as our mate.

“Really? You
know this already?” Sam chuckled at the animal’s quick decision,
but then narrowed her eyes as she caught sight of her own
reflection in the mirror. Puffy lips, flushed cheeks, her hair
askew. She ran her hand down her body, recalling how it had felt to
have Damien’s hands on her, to feel his body rocking against her
aching core. Even now she still felt the need for him.

Damn. She
wasn’t looking for a mate, she had enough to do right now. But
Damien had potential. He was a good fighter, sexy, plus he made her
laugh. And her wolf approved. Indecisiveness wasn’t typical of her.
Weighing all the factors, she gave a quick nod and set her course
of action.

Damien stood
in front of the bathroom mirror staring at the faint scar on his
neck, the physical reminder of his blood bond with Beth. He touched
it with his fingertip, tracing the slight roughness, trying to
recall how it had felt to have Beth kiss him there. Instead of the
usual flood of old memories, he could only think of Sam, the
roughness of her tongue on his skin, the feel of her lean, muscled
body against his, the way her scent lingered on him.

When she’d
pulled his head down and kissed him, he’d been shocked. That was
the last thing on his mind today. He’d been too angry over his
failure to find Dante to even think of sex. But when Sam’s hot
mouth had teased his, desire had slammed into him. Feelings long
denied had clamoured for release, and he’d allowed himself to get
caught up in the moment.

Even now, his
body ached uncomfortably. A quick glance down showed his arousal
would still be obvious even to the most casual observer. Giving a
snort of disgust, he stepped into the shower, turned on the cold
water and gritted his teeth.

The icy drops
stung against his still sensitive skin, but he welcomed the
discomfort. It was a small enough punishment for the sin he’d
almost committed. He’d pledged his life to Beth using the old,
traditional human vows of sickness and health, good times and bad,
’til death…

“
I’m mated,
Sam.”

“I thought you
said she was dead.”

“Yes...”

That snippet
of conversation played over and over in his head. Why had he
agreed? Yes, Beth was dead, but her spirit lived on in his heart.
Her dying words had asked him to never forget, and he’d kept the
vow since that day. Now guilt twisted inside him.

His wolf paced
restlessly, too. It was disturbed by the encounter, not angry with
him like in the past, but for once unsure of what the correct
course of action might be.

“Ha, I have
the upper hand this time, old boy.” Damien shut off the water and
grabbed a towel. “What we need to do is focus on our job and forget
about Sam Harper. And that should be pretty easy. After all, she’s
nothing like Beth.”

He
concentrated on bringing an image of Beth to mind. Her dove grey
eyes, her gentle smile, her long hair he loved to wrap his hands
in. For once, the picture waivered, refusing to come into focus.
Shocked, he froze in place, the towel clenched in his hand. His
breathing quickened, a nervous fluttering began in his stomach.
What was going on?

Furrowing his
brow, he tried harder, imagining her light laughter, her soft
touch. Like a will-o-the-wisp her memory drifted by, escaping as he
attempted to latch on to it. How had she tasted when he kissed her?
And her scent had been…

When he could
finally see her, he exhaled, the feeling of panic that had been
threatening easing off.

Beth was still
with him.

Sam sighed and wished she’d ignored the summons to
her grandfather’s room. Over the past several months she’d been
going through some of the boxes in the attic, sorting out old
ledgers and journals based on which Alpha they had belonged to;
making digital copies of the most important historical data, and
purging what didn’t need to be kept. She’d been periodically giving
him some of the items to read, thinking it would keep him busy.
However, this latest batch, his own private journals, had sent him
into a querulous mood for some reason and now she was taking the
brunt of it. For the past half hour, he’d been grilling her about
how she was managing the pack, with pointed references to how
things had been done back in his day.

“And why
haven’t I met this rogue you hired yet?” Sam’s grandfather growled
at her from his chair near the window.

“You’ve been
sick the past few days. And you know that your medication makes you
sleepy. You wouldn’t want to meet him when you weren’t at your
best.”

He clamped his
mouth tightly shut, obviously not pleased that she’d pointed out
his weakness. However, it was the truth and Sam tried to stick to
plain speaking when it came to her grandfather, despite his age and
health.

Rather than
concede that she was right, he came at the topic from another
angle. “I saw him come in earlier today. I want you to bring him to
me now.”

“Now?” Hell.
She wasn’t sure what had gone wrong with Damien in the exercise
room and had no idea what type of a mood he might be in.

“That’s right.
Otherwise you’ll come up with another damned excuse.”

“It wasn’t a
‘
damned
excuse’, it was a perfectly good one. But, I’ll
bring him here if that’s what it takes to make you happy.”

“Good.” Her
grandfather folded his arms and glared at her. “Get moving. I
haven’t got all day.”

She bit her
tongue to hold back a rude reply. There was no point in provoking a
slanging match. Reluctantly, she headed upstairs to find
Damien.

He responded
slowly to her knock and she wondered what he’d been up to. The look
on his face was less than welcoming and he made no effort to invite
her in. Surely he couldn’t be brooding over their kiss. It had been
a simple lip lock, not an orgy for heaven sake!

Having put up
with her grandfather’s mood for the last half hour, she wasn’t
going to give Damien an opportunity to start in on her. Her plan
was to forget the small talk and get straight the point. “I need
you to come with me.”

“Why?” He
leaned against the doorjamb, his expression cool.

“Command
performance. My grandfather wants to meet you.”

Damien raised
his brows but pushed off from the wall and followed her. “I’m
surprised he hasn’t asked to see me before this. Alphas usually
meet new members as soon as they arrive.”

“He hasn’t
been feeling up to having visitors. Besides, as acting Alpha, I
carry out all the required duties and,” she paused on the landing
to look at him, “you aren’t technically a member of the pack. This
is a temporary position.”

A shadow
passed over his eyes, but it was gone so swiftly she might have
been wrong. Yet when he spoke, the typically sarcastic manner she’d
come to expect from him seemed forced.

“Any words of
warning before I face him? Hiram was telling me your grandfather
had quite a reputation in his day.”

Sam shook her
head, imagining the tales that had been told. Hiram was a
storyteller at heart and could weave fact and fiction into the most
plausible plots. She kept encouraging him to write them down, but
as far as she knew he’d yet to act on her suggestion. “In his
younger days he did, though Hiram might have exaggerated a
bit.”

Damien gave a
soft huff of laughter. “One of the tricks of command is to have the
reputation as a hard nose precede you.”

“True. But
Grandfather’s bark and bite are pretty similar. Watch what you
say.” Having reached their destination, she tapped on the door to
the older man’s room.

“No need to
knock. I know you’re there. I’m not deaf, just laid up with my back
and a damned cold.” The older man growled the words and, despite
their differences, she gave Damien a look of sympathy before
ushering him in.

Damien glanced
about the room Sam had led him to noting that, like the rest of the
house, it had been renovated at one time, the original dimensions
having been changed perhaps to convert several single rooms into a
suite. This particular space had a small sitting area with a
fireplace, two chairs and table. A door, ajar on the far side, gave
glimpses of a bedroom and bathroom beyond that. It was relatively
neat, except for the large stack of old books and files that sat on
a table and spilled over onto the floor. He took it all in before
focusing on the elderly man who was eyeing him up and down with a
look of distrust. So this was the elusive Samuel Harper,
Senior.