“I…ah…don’t care!” She squirmed against him, her creamy core sliding around his flesh. “T-take me!”
His control snapped. The man, the beast, growled in pleasure. Colin thrust into Emily’s sex, shoving as deep and as hard as he could.
“Colin! ” She rammed back against him. Her hands were flat against the wall as she braced her body.
He grabbed her hair, pulled it back, baring her neck. His cock slammed into her, again, and again…
She was moaning, panting, squirming against him. Every move, every sound she made just built the furious hunger within him.
His mouth pressed against her neck, tasted her skin. His canines were long and sharp in his mouth and he raked them across her flesh.
Bite. Mark. Claim.
“Ah…God…Colin.” Her hips slammed back against him and her neck arched even more. “I’m coming!”
Her sex squeezed him, tightly clenching his cock. Fuck, yes! His teeth clamped down on her, pierced the delicate skin and drove into her vein.
As her hot, rich blood flowed over his tongue, he exploded inside of her, shoving deep one final time and burying his cock to the hilt inside of her.
His heart was drumming frantically. Sweat coated his body. And his teeth were still embedded in her throat.
Emily moaned softly. The sound not one of pain, but pleasure. Her sex shivered around him in a little aftershock caress.
He’d been right, Colin realized. He could taste her fear. And it was heady. But so was her passion.
A vampire drank from his victims to survive. To grow stronger.
A wolf shifter drank to kill or to claim.
To kill, well, you just ripped out the throat, let the hot blood pour into your mouth or you pierced the jugular and sucked the victim slowly dry.
Emily’s body sagged lightly against him.
But to claim…a wolf shifter claimed a mate only once in his life. He marked her, bit her, tasted her blood so that he took her essence inside himself.
Take. Mate.
Until death.
And sometimes beyond.
Emily’s heart was slowing. Her breath becoming shallow. Colin forced his head to lift.
Emily wasn’t prey.
She was something far, far more valuable.
He lifted her into his arms. Her head rolled back against him.
Now how in the hell was he going to tell her that he’d just performed the equivalent of a wolf shifter marriage with her?
A wolf shifter. The detective was a wolf. Too fucking perfect.
How long had it been since he’d been able to pit his strength against another of his kind?
Too long.
Too many years of killing weaker species. But now, now there was finally someone worthy of his attack.
He watched from the shadows as Gyth cradled the woman against his body.
He’d marked her. Taken her as a mate. Did the good doctor know?
She was such an Other expert…she had to suspect.
Who would have thought? The doctor, a fitting mate for a wolf shifter.
Apparently, there was more to Emily Drake than met the eye.
Not just anyone could mate with the wolves.
But Emily could.
How very interesting.
Colin held her close for another moment, then eased Emily to her feet. He grabbed his torn jeans, tried to cover his body.
Shouldered into what was left of his shirt and reached for her again.
His posture was possessive, protective as he led her from the alley.
It was a pity that the detective had just given away his weakness.
A woman.
A weak, human woman.
The humans…they died so easily. And screamed so well.
Time for another kill.
The doctor had already been on his list. Had been from the moment he’d learned of Gillian’s appointment with her.
No loose ends.
But now, the game had changed.
He’d have to use care. The detective guarded his little doctor so well. He’d have to draw her away from him, make them both vulnerable.
A smile curved his lips, pressed against his fangs.
And he knew just how to bait his trap.
Emily awoke with a start the next morning. Her heart was racing as memories of a twisted nightmare drifted from her mind. She’d been hunted, bitten…
Not a dream, she realized, her hand lifting to touch her neck. The flesh was sore, slightly raised.
Last night, Colin had bitten her. Taken her blood.
Oh shit.
She swallowed, glancing around the room. His room. She didn’t remember much about the ride back to Colin’s place. She’d been groggy from pleasure and… freaking blood loss.
She’d heard of shifters biting their prey before, of course. Panthers, lions, bears…they all did it—often in human form just with their sharpened teeth. Supposedly, the blood gave them a sexual boost.
But she’d also heard of shifters taking the blood of their mates. And last night, with Colin, she hadn’t felt like prey.
She’d felt like a mate.
Shit.
She’d always thought she’d wind up with some nice, easygoing, normal guy. A banker or an accountant or something equally boring and nondangerous.
Not a wolf shifter.
What had she done?
And why was the house so silent? “Colin?” No response. Emily raised her voice, tried again, “Colin!”
Nothing. She glanced at the bedside clock. Eight-thirty. He’d probably already gone to the station.
There was a bag near the foot of the bed. Emily saw the bright logo on the side. Her new clothes.
How had they gotten there? She’d thought she left them in her car at the station—
A faint beeping filled the room, and Emily recognized her ring tone. She stumbled from the bed, finding her purse on the floor. She grabbed the phone. “Drake.”
“Dr. Drake…it’s Smith.”
The ME’s voice sounded slightly distorted. Emily hurried across the room in an attempt to get better reception. “Smith? What is it?”
“Need…see…you.”
Her voice was too high, Emily thought, and the fear she heard had nothing to do with bad reception. Had Smith found out something about the case? About the Other? “A-all right. Are you at the lab?”
“Yes. Hurry.” The call ended with a click.
Emily frowned down at the phone.
Colin had been busy, Emily realized. When she went outside, she found her car waiting for her. That explains the clothes. She’d left the new bag of clothing on her backseat.
Twenty minutes later, she was walking into the station. She deliberately avoided Colin’s floor, not wanting to see him then. She’d left her hair loose in an effort to hide the bruise on her throat.
She didn’t know what she’d do if she saw him. Kiss him…or hit the bastard as hard as she could. Damn but she felt so confused.
She wanted him, there was no denying that. But more, she’d started to trust Colin, and she hadn’t trusted a man in years.
She was in trouble. Serious trouble. Because she wasn’t exactly sure where the physical need for Colin ended and where something much more serious began.
The elevator chimed and the doors opened on the bottom floor. Emily stepped into the hallway, hearing the faint beat of Smith’s jazz music. Her high heels clicked on the floor as she stepped forward. She pushed open the door to the lab. “Smith, I’m here—”
Her words ended on a rush of breath as she saw the puddle of blood near Smith’s desk.
Maybe I’ll go for a woman again the next time too.
No, oh God, no.
“Smith! ” Emily ran forward, screaming the ME’s name. Her shoes slipped in the blood.
Oh shit. The lab was trashed. Desks overturned. Files littering the floor. Equipment smashed.
More blood. Pooling on the floor.
But no body. No sign of Smith.
Without a hesitation, Emily lowered her mental shields. She had to know if the Butcher had been there.
The rage hit her, driving her to her knees. The same black taint of power that she’d felt before lingered in the air.
The Night Butcher. But it looked like the bastard had changed his MO. He’d struck during the day. When no one would suspect.
And he’d taken Smith.
Why? Emily stood slowly, knees shaking. Her gaze swept over the lab. He left his kills. Left them to taunt the police. There was no reason for him to take Smith.
Unless…
Emily turned on her heel and ran down the hall.
Unless the bastard had kept her alive.
Twelve hours had passed. Emily sat at Colin’s desk, a mug of coffee cradled in her hands.
McNeal paced in front of her, his face blood red. “Not one fucking cop saw him! The asshole came into my station, took Smith, and not one fucking cop saw him!”
It was the same thing he’d been saying for hours. His hands were shaking, and his eyes were wild with worry and rage.
There was something there, Emily thought. The way McNeal was acting, he and Smith were more than just—
Colin’s phone rang. They all seemed to freeze, then Colin’s hand flashed out, jerked up the black receiver.
“Gyth.”
His eyes widened and he motioned to Brooks. His partner instantly turned on the small, black tracking device that was attached to the phone.
The station fell silent as Colin’s call echoed on the nearby speaker.
“Were you waiting for my call, Detective?” The voice was distorted, robotic.
“Who is this?” Colin demanded, his knuckles whitening around the phone.
“You know who I am.”
“No, I don’t. So why don’t you just—”
“The press calls me the Night Butcher, but as you’ve seen, I don’t just hunt at night.” He laughed, a grating sound that sent a shiver down Emily’s back.
“Ask the bastard about Smith,” McNeal ordered.
“I want to talk to Smith,” Colin snapped.
“Ah, yes, I figured you would. Good thing I haven’t ripped her throat out, yet. It would make talking so hard.”
A woman’s scream echoed across the line.
Smith.
“M-McNeal, h-help—” A pain-filled moan broke her words.
More laughter. And dead silence from Smith.
Emily swallowed.
The officers gathered around her were pale, their faces tight with concentration.
But Colin…he had rage in his eyes. So much rage. The beast wants out.
“What the fuck do you want, Butcher?”
Silence. Too long. Too thick.
Colin gritted his teeth. “Dammit—”
“I have the wrong doctor.”
Emily’s blood froze.
Colin’s gaze shot to hers.
“I want the other one.”
His stare never left her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy bastard, but—”
“She’s in front of you, isn’t she? Pretty little Doctor Drake. She’s rather extraordinary. Knows so much about…our kind.”
McNeal swore.
“I’ll offer you a deal, Detective. Smith for Dr. Drake. An even trade.”
And she saw Colin’s control snap. “Fuck, no, you sonofa—”
Emily shot to her feet. Punched the button for the phone’s intercom so she could speak. “Tell me where and when.” No way was she going to sit back and let Smith die. Not if there was a chance they could save her.
A beat of silence, then, “Dr. Drake.” He purred the words. As much as a robot could purr. “I had a feeling you were there.”
So the asshole got bonus points for being right. “Don’t hurt Smith,” she ordered, her voice flat and cold. “Tell me where to be, and I’ll make the trade.”
Colin was shaking his head. His hand flashed out, locked around her wrist. “No damn way.”
Emily lifted her chin. “Tell me where,” she repeated.
“Warehouse district. Building 13. You come alone, Doctor. All alone. If I so much as smell a cop, you’ll be swimming in Smith’s blood.”
She believed him.
“Midnight, Dr. Drake. I’ll see you then.” The hum of a dial tone resonated from the phone.
Emily exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Colin stared down at her, his face an iron mask. “You’re not going.” An order. One that he fully expected to be obeyed.
“If I don’t, she’s dead.” And she couldn’t have Smith’s death on her conscience.
“In my office, now. ” McNeal stormed ahead of them, not glancing back to see if he was obeyed.
Colin dragged Emily with him, keeping his tight grip on her wrist. He jerked her inside, slamming the door behind them.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he snarled. “You do not, do not, ever interfere in my investigation like that again, do you—”
“I did what I had to do.” Smith’s life was on the line. There’d been no choice. “Tell me, Colin, if he’d offered to trade her for you, what would you have done?”
His clenched jaw was her answer.
“I’ve got to help her. If I don’t, he’ll kill her.” Rip out her throat, just as he’d done to the others.
“When you walk into that warehouse, he’ll kill you,” he gritted. He yanked her closer to him, pressing his body against hers, flesh to flesh. His heat wrapped around her, his fury hovered in the air surrounding them. “You think I’m just gonna stand by and let that happen?” He kissed her hard, his lips bruising and hot. “No fucking way. I just found you. I’m not about to lose you now.”
Her breath caught. “Colin…”
“If you two are done, we need to figure out just what the hell our next move is gonna be,” McNeal growled, slamming his fist against the desk.
