Jacob's Faith (4 page)

Every possessive instinct he possessed roared out in protest. The soft, feral growl that rumbled in his chest was no surprise. It was all he could do to keep it to a soft warning rather than the vicious snarl he wanted to release.

“Jake, what the hell’s wrong with you?” His companion, a gunrunner and general badass, hissed from beside him.

“Problems,” Jacob grimaced then tossed back the rest of his whisky. “We’ll have to fight our way out.”

“Why?” Confusion filled Danson’s voice.

Jacob glanced at the other man, seeing the calculation in the hazel eyes that watched him. He nodded at Faith.

“See that tight ass?”

There was a moment’s silence. Jacob glanced at the other man only long enough to get more pissed than he already was. Danson’s quiet, intense perusal of those tempting curves was an insult to Jacob’s possessive instincts.

“Nice ass,” Danson’s voice was too appreciative to suit Jacob.

“That’s my ass, Danson, twisting around at that bar. My ass, my woman, and she’s about to get herself and me in a hell of a mess.”

He stood to his feet, grimacing at the sudden tight fit at the crotch of his jeans. His eyes narrowed as the six bastards ahead of him geared themselves to confront the pretty little ass flexing as the woman looked around the room again. Damned fine ass, he sighed. He was gonna wallop it first chance he got for being so damned stupid as to walk into this bar.

* * * * *

“It’s gonna turn into a fight,” her friend and adopted Pack mate, Hawke drawled lazily as he leaned back against the bar and watched the small group of men who had been calling out obscenities and impossible suggestions for the past few minutes.

There were six of them, and Faith could smell the rancid scent of unwashed bodies and violent lust. They were men looking for a fight and a woman they could hurt. Evidently, the whores in this place were too damned easy if they actually thought picking on her right now was a good idea. She shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t need this. She was here to find Jacob, that was all. Despite the pulse of adrenaline that sped through her veins, she fought for enough common sense not to push the bastards further.

Damn him, she thought, and damn Wolfe for sending her here. She was doing just fine where she was. A nice little apartment, a job she could work at as needed, and no problems. Four years was a long time out of training, and six years out of the Pack was even longer. Her last dismal failure as an Enforcer, after Hope’s kidnapping six months ago, should have shown him that. She doubted his decision in this little mission he had given her. Didn’t they all have cell phones for a damned reason?

And to top it all off, he sent Hawke with her. Not that Hawke wasn’t a damned fine fighter and a hell of a guide when she needed one. But he was a man, and a male Breed at that. Dominating, bossy, particular, and one problem right after the other. Regular human men were hard enough for her to deal with nowadays, but a Breed male was an insult to the independence she had established over the years.

“Faith, I say we come back later,” Hawke muttered as the men behind her became a bit more restless. “I don’t want to be fightin’ for your virtue, hon.”

So much for his willingness to fight, she sighed. Any other time he would be pitching head long into the fray. They had been searching for Jacob for two months now, and she was tired of being bruised and bloody from the fights he instigated.

She glanced over her shoulder, restraining the urge to roll her eyes. It wouldn’t be her first fight or her last, she was sure. But she definitely wasn’t in the mood tonight. She just wanted to find Jacob, give him the information and the message she had, then return home and sleep for a month.

Why she had to go traipsing after his ass, she didn’t know. Orders. She was Liaison, she mocked Wolfe’s words silently. It was her job. Like Jacob wanted her running around after him. He had shown how important she was to him when he walked away from her, again, six months ago.

“Don’t worry about my virtue, Hawke, it’s been in doubt for years,” she replied mockingly.

She pushed her hand impatiently through her short hair. She wasn’t going to think about it, she promised herself. She had more important things to deal with than the memory of her lost virtue or the man who had taken it. Or if it even counted as lost virtue.

She shifted impatiently, her hand falling to the revolver strapped to her thigh, thankful that she had checked it before entering the seedy little bar. If things got out of hand too much, it was there, but she sure as hell didn’t want to have to deal with the problems that would come with using it.

“Faith, this could be a bad thing,” Hawke drawled lazily. “We draw too much attention and we’re screwed. We’ll never find your man then. “

“He’s not my man,” she muttered as she sipped impatiently at her beer. “And he’s supposed to be here tonight. He better be, I sure as hell paid enough money for the information.” Damned good thing it was Wolfe’s money and not hers, she thought. She got testy where her money was involved.

“Uh oh, they’re getting up from the table. Gang rape time, baby. We better get the hell out of here,” Hawke warned her with a hard edge of amusement. Damn him, he sounded like he was enjoying the thought of the coming fight. Energy pulsed through her own veins, the restless, charged anticipation inside her longing to escalate into the hard driving fury the fight would produce.

“Shit!” She slapped her beer on the bar and turned to leave, furious that male morons were going to foul this up for her. She didn’t need another fight. Didn’t need the all consuming arousal it produced later. No vibrator, no mate. She would be in hell.

As she turned around, she came face to face with the first of the morons in question. Suddenly, a large area cleared around the bar, the two dozen or so patrons now watching with interest, but little intervention as the six goons faced her.

The biggest, a broad, football player sized behemoth stared down at Faith with lustful, dull brown eyes.

“You readee to play, leetle gurl?” He asked her in halting English.

Faith barely managed to keep from rolling her eyes. Oh yeah, she really wanted to play, her life’s ambition was to play with a King Kong wannabe with the brains of a gnat.

“With you?” She arched a slender, auburn brow with curious amusement. “Sorry, babe, but I already have a date tonight.” She moved back carefully, aware of the other three men lining along the other side of the bar.

If he didn’t understand the words completely, he definitely understood the sneer in her voice. One hand gripped the flesh between his legs as he smiled, displaying the rotten teeth he seemed so proud of.

“I say you play, leettle girl,” he grunted in rough English.

“I say you fuck off,” she said easily, her body tensing for the fight to come.

“Faith, your manners,” Hawke reminded her sarcastically. “Not every women gets such a gentle proposition.”

“Manners be damned.” She grimaced. “I’m going to kick Jacob’s ass for getting me into this.”

* * * * *

Hawke grinned. He needed her mad. Faith’s antipathy was beginning to worry Wolfe and the rest of the Pack. She lived, and that was all. She did her job as required, collected her pay, and the rest of the time she stayed holed up in that kick ass apartment she had managed to con someone out of. She was one of the few Pack members who didn’t live within the perimeters Wolfe had set out for them. She was their messenger, informer, and a general spy among spies from what he could figure out. But he liked her. Get her mad enough and she could kick ass with the best of them.

Her training was rusty though, as Wolfe had warned him it would be. He had spent two months getting her back into shape before steering her to Jacob’s true location. Not that she seemed too impressed with his efforts to get her back to peak ability. All she did was bitch about her bruises and scratches. Anytime he expected her to light into him over a broken nail. Damned woman, this was what he got for bringing her back to her mate? He controlled his snort. He would be smarter and mate with a much less stubborn female.

Hawke sighed, his attention momentarily diverted as a shadow moved along the end of the bar. His eyes widened, a shiver danced over his spine as his acute sense of smell picked up the animal that had moved closer. Perhaps not an animal, no more than he was himself, Hawke knew, but this was a prime male. His dark brown hair lay thick and heavy along his shoulders, pale blue eyes watched the scene with interest.

He lounged against the bar, clearly determined to be of no help at all despite his obvious link with Faith. And there was a link. The male across the room carried the same scent that Hawke often caught when he came too close to Faith. The smell was dark and elusive, a warning. A mark that Faith belonged to another, to the man making no move at all to save her. Hawke had finally led Faith to her mate, and he had a feeling Jacob wasn’t too pleased with his efforts either.

* * * * *

Jacob grimaced as Faith’s body tensed for the coming fight, her attention focused on the six men who were determined to rape her. Her body, lean and fit, lightly muscled and honed to peak condition was still small, fragile looking. The male with her was prepared as well, casting Jacob another look, this one filled with a message. Jacob smiled and shook his head, grunting at the fury that washed over the other man’s expression.

This new Faith was an enigma. He tilted his head, watching her, seeing irritation and impatience reflecting in her face. The savage pleasure of the coming fight was absent, but it was still something she was looking forward to. She was testing herself, he thought. Pitting some inner anger, a desperate surge of emotion against the bastards who dared to get in her way. It was—arousing—to watch. Her companion on the other hand, seemed more than worried.

Jacob had no intentions of letting Faith get hurt. If it even looked as though she was about to break a nail on the bastards she was fighting, he would rip their throats out. That was his woman. His blood mate. His teeth had marked her skin, her blood had filled his mouth as she screamed out beneath him. That was no small thing. The time in between then and now didn’t matter. Whether her scream was of pleasure or pain, was beside the point. Fact was fact. She was his. And as he watched her, he realized he was tired of waiting for her. Tired of needing her. Damn her to hell, it was time to rid her gaze of the fear it held each time she looked at him. If he could keep his control long enough to show her the tenderness he wanted so deeply to give her.

Getting past her fears may prove to be difficult. He had hurt her that night in the Labs, he knew he had. The effects of the drugs they had given her, and the overpowering scent of her lust had driven him past any thought of control. Any thought of tenderness. But he was tired of waiting. He had realized that after he left the Pack again, six months before. He was growing tired of waiting, of hoping she would forgive him and cease to fear him. He had slowly given up. But now, she was here and he would claim what was his. That is, after he got her away from that damned male shadowing her.

Hawke. That was all he went by. The Pack he had been born to was now under Wolfe’s control after Wolfe, Aiden and Jacob had destroyed the Labs where they were being held before extermination.

His few conversations with Wolfe assured him that Hawke was an able enough fighter, and a hell of a manipulator. As an Enforcer, one of the elite members of the Pack and charged with the security and protection of the growing numbers of Wolf Breeds, Hawke was known for his savagery and loyalty to the Pack.

Jacob sighed. He hoped to hell Hawke wasn’t fucking pretty little Faith. He would hate to have to kill the other man, but that tempting bit of woman was his now. She had dared to come looking for him, and now she had found him. He figured it was as good a time as any to finish what had tormented him for six long years. He couldn’t forget her, couldn’t let her go, and he was damned tired of waking deep in the night, hot and hungry for her.

“Do you need help, Faith darlin’?” he called out, wondering if she was aware he was there.

For a moment, silence filled the room. A sense of waiting as all eyes turned to him.

“You finally decide to show up, asshole?” she asked him, the tense amusement in her voice almost hiding her nervousness.

“Your language has deteriorated, I can see,” he told her as he lifted a bottle of whisky from the bar and motioned to the bartender for a glass. “Should I await your pleasure, baby, or help you along here?”

He heard her snort at his choice of words. A defiant sexy sound that made his erection throb in anticipation.

“They’re worms. Give me five minutes and I’ll be right with you.” He almost winced at the thread of excitement that wove through her voice.

That little throb of expectation hadn’t been there before she learned he was watching the game displayed before him. She was a woman now, confident; she thought she was in control. That knowledge filled her voice and the loose-limbed, prepared stance of her body. Had he somehow been wrong all these years? Had Faith grown up, had she gotten past that long ago night and the pain he had dealt her?

He poured a double shot of the whisky. He had a feeling he was going to need it. For all the interest he had in the changes that had overtaken her, it was still a battle not to wade in and kill the stupid humans who thought they could mark what was his.

“You stay out of this, gringo,” one of the men warned him tightly, his scarred face twisted into a sneer. “This one, she is ours.”

The guttural, rough English of the Romeo wannabe had Jacob grimacing. He downed the liquid in his glass, wincing at the burn as it hit his throat.

“Go for it.” He waved the glass towards them. “If you can take it.”

As though his permission was all that was required, the six attacked. Jacob forgot the glass and tilted the bottle to his mouth as Faith and Hawke met the surge of sweaty, dirty bodies that converged on them. If he didn’t dull the rage boiling inside him, then there was no way he would manage to let Faith take care of this little problem herself.