Linda Thomas-Sundstrom – Seduced by the Moon (страница 9)
The roar echoed in the clearing around the cabin and instantly chilled Gavin to the bone. He hesitated for several agonizing seconds, horrified. “No. Not now. Not yet,” he whispered.
The woman in the bed also heard the noise. White-faced and wide-eyed, she sat forward, her heart beating as furiously as his.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Nothing you’d want to meet.” Even that much of an explanation seemed to expose too much, Gavin thought.
Damn the timing. He should have known better than to put his mind and energy elsewhere when he was sure the monster had returned.
On his feet in a flash, Gavin reached for the radio still tucked into his belt before deciding against using it. Who would believe him or want to face whatever made that awful roar?
With a graceful swing of one arm, he retrieved the gun from the floor and set it on the bed.
“I’m sorry.” After taking one last look at the woman who’d distracted him into nearly forgetting a vow, and with his heart filled with regret for having to pass up what she offered here tonight, he added, “Really sorry.”
Then he turned for the door.
She scrambled after him. He heard the sounds of her bare feet on the old wooden boards. “What was that?” she repeated. “Tell me.”
“Wolf,” he said. “Big one. Badass. Doesn’t belong here.”
“You have to go after it?”
Her voice kept him hard and hating the separation.
“I have to find that beast before it finds other things to harm,” he explained.
“Aren’t wolves usual out here?”
Gavin stopped at the front door thinking that people were so damn naive. But though this woman looked bewildered, she didn’t appear to be the slightest bit hurt by his hasty withdrawal, and only truly curious about the sound they’d heard. She didn’t ask him to explain his abrupt behavior. She was looking at him with hunger dilating her beautiful green eyes.
Grabbing her by the shoulders, Gavin tilted her head back with a small shake. She didn’t object, just bit her lower lip hard enough to bring up a droplet of blood with her tiny white teeth.
“Christ!” He wanted her so blessed badly, and to prove it, he kissed her mouth so savagely, she uttered a cry of surprise.
He kept on kissing her, deepening the union of their mouths, devouring all he found, breathing her in, tasting her sweetness. And she met him with the fervor of a storm.
God, yes, she was a storm encased in fragile human skin. But it was okay. He could get away now that he had an excuse. She wouldn’t have to see what might happen to him if he stayed.
Unsure of how long the kiss lasted, Gavin finally drew back. He’d done it, kissed her, and felt a kind of weary triumph about that. But he had to go, leave her, take care of this. Although he wanted nothing more than to stay, the monster out there in the dark had torn him apart, injected a beast into his bloodstream and then left him to die. That beast was outside right now, close enough to reach out and touch.
He had no choice here.
“Close the windows and lock the door,” he said with his lips inches from hers. “I shouldn’t have come here like this. I should have known better than to let it get so close.”
He turned to go, torn and hurting.
“What do you mean? What’s getting close?” she called after him as Gavin, broken and unfulfilled, strode across the yard, vaulted the fence and headed for the hillside, leaving perhaps the sweetest night of his life behind.
Skylar didn’t call for the ranger to stop as she stood in the doorway staring at the darkness settling over the mountains. The noise they’d heard hadn’t just interrupted her first unplanned one-night stand, it had jangled her nerves.
Harris’s haste in getting away from her would have seemed like a slap in the face if it had been for any other reason than going after whatever had made that terrible sound. His disappearance gave her breathing room to contemplate what she’d been about to do—to him, with him.
This whole night had proved a fairly spectacular hiccup in her present situation, and she wasn’t all that clear about what she wanted right then—a man or a creature that was more than a man. She wasn’t certain that a mere man could have done it for her.
Freud would have had a field day with that information.
So would her big sister.
Trish, as the most stable of the four Donovan sisters, wouldn’t appreciate that her sibling was in heat and lusting for a tryst with anyone who came along, let alone lusting for a werewolf. After a conversation like that with Trish, there’d be a reservation in a white padded cell and some little blue pills—a scene that hit too close to home.
Skylar stared outside.
Harris had warned her to lock the door. Yet as far as she knew, wolves, no matter what size, couldn’t handle a doorknob. So what good would a lock have done to protect her from the animal Harris said he needed to chase?
Reason told her that Ranger Harris had lied, that he might be hiding something.
Part of her wanted to listen to his advice anyway. The other newly rebellious part that would have taken a stranger to bed urged her to follow him and see for herself what was urgent enough to end their lovemaking session before the real fun began.
The guy had been seriously distressed over the sound they’d heard. There was no way she’d imagined that. And though her body, too, was trying to warn her about this sound, and shudder after shudder rocked her stance in the doorway, Skylar couldn’t let lies and secrets become an integral part of her new reality.
She was different here. She was letting go of her own secrets, one by one, and open to taking new risks.
Should she go after the ranger? In the dark?
What if her father had fallen to his death while chasing figures from his dreams?
She wasn’t familiar enough with the trails to find footing or have directional cues without proper sightlines. Her cell phone wasn’t good for much because the GPS was almost nonexistent.
As for wanting to jump into the sack with this guy, maybe she just needed a night with an honorable man for a change. Harris, at least, ran out on her
Backing up, Skylar listened hard to Harris’s fading footsteps. With him went the rest of the evening’s light.
Her heart refused to slow as she backed from the doorway. Confusion reigned. The room dimmed around her, but Skylar didn’t reach for a lamp. Seconds flew by, then minutes.
Finally, she shut the door and leaned against it with her eyes closed, picturing Harris’s tight, tanned flesh pressed to her bare skin. Feeling, even now, his breath on her face.
* * *
Gavin picked up the trail of the monster much more easily than he could have hoped, almost as if the bloodthirsty beast wanted him to.
He didn’t know what to make of that, but it was too late to consider anything other than finding his prey. His blood was up. His muscles were seizing. The beast inside him recognized this other beast in an unseemly way.
But shouting would amount to a calling card and telegraph his presence...if the thing didn’t know already.
As he jogged up the steep path, the old thoughts returned, though answers to his questions had never been within reach. If he wasn’t like that monster, he had to suppose that the blood passed from beast to beast somehow got diluted in the transfer.
His wounds made him suffer a change, but until he knew more about what had happened to him, he had to think of his cursed condition as a disease.
Hell, the differences between him and his maker had to be studied. He couldn’t exact a physical change without a full moon, yet he’d been attacked without one. Feelings inside of him shifted, internal stirrings came and went, but no full transformation happened for him without that commanding silver light. When he did morph, he became a strange mixture of both man and wolf, and not more of one thing than the other.
This damn beast was wolfish, with a lot of something extra added that had no relation to
Part of that beast truly had become part of him.
Gavin’s thoughts kept churning as he climbed the hillside trying to sift through facts, in search of answers.
He’d tried locking himself away to avoid the moon’s treacherous call, which only made things worse. Unable to change its form, his body had betrayed him anyway. He’d nearly gone mad with the shakes, unconscious spells, roiling stomach upheavals and bouts of fever. His mind had eventually succumbed to the madness. He’d lost control of his temper, lost his mind to the pain of withholding the transformation and ended up in some godforsaken place on the mountain with no recollection of how he got there or what he might have done while his mind was in a fog.
Lesson learned. It was a freaking sharp-witted curse that developed immunity to thoughtful manipulation.