Aaron's Kiss Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 7) (80 page)

Griff, a Cynogriffon, had been in the cell between hers and Tyler’s, and he had pledged his immortal life to her if she took him with them. They did, taking the man to Tyler’s left as well. Charlie, another creation like her, had been shot as they were making their way across the compound. He took a bullet intended for her.

Griff had been a donor, a sperm donor to their test tube creations. He had also been their best trainer when they needed a sparring partner to their soldiers. Griff was a beautiful and fierce creature, and being an immortal, a perfect candidate for what they needed. They used him for his abilities that he could pass on through his sperm, which made him invaluable to them.

They had lived by their wits and abilities, nearly starving to death the first year. Bailey would devise a plan and Tyler would figure out the logistics of it and Griff would protect them from afar with his powerful magic. They rarely got caught, and when they did, Bailey would “shadow” them out. Her powers got stronger as she got older. It wasn’t until she was eleven or twelve that she figured out she was able to shift, to change into whatever she wanted. Her shifting and Tyler’s seven-foot, eight-inch bulky frame had helped them get their first job accomplished. A vampire gone rogue was not an easy kill.

When Bailey finally boarded the plane to Rome some forty minutes later, she found herself seated next to a chatty woman and her young son. The boy was annoying, as was the woman with her constant yelling at Paul. Within an hour of taking off, Bailey put them both into a deep sleep. Bailey herself slept well for the first time in days.

~CHAPTER FIVE~

Tristan hung up the phone and started breathing deep, in and out, in and out. He’d never been so angry in his entire life. She had actually knocked his mother out. Of course, Mom thought it was funny and intriguing to say the least. One minute she was telling her what was what, and the next, poof, waking up several hours later. He wondered how she would feel about the young lady if she knew he refused to mate with her. By the time she woke again, the girl had left, taking her clothes and leaving the passports behind with a note.

‘Thanks for your lovely hospitality; I have never enjoyed a more friendly stay in my life. I won’t need these anymore as they’ve been compromised. Have a nice life.’

And no signature, not even initials. Damn her.

Tristan closed his eyes and reached for her. He had given her his blood, quite a bit, as a matter of fact, so finding her shouldn’t be a problem. He frowned; she was far, no longer in Paris, but…Germany. What the fuck was she doing in Germany? He stretched farther and found her running, running from someone. She was in danger and angry. He stiffened when he felt the first bullet enter her, the pain searing through her, then a second one. Still she ran, stumbling now. When she lost conciseness, he lost his connection with her. He found himself standing, ready to…to do what, he didn’t know, but he knew that she was in trouble, the little fool.

Tristan found Aaron in his study and told him that he was needed elsewhere for a few days, would he mind keeping an eye on Patrice?

Aaron just laughed and agreed to help him out. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with the woman in Paris, does it? Pete said she’s a mean little thing.”

“It is, although I don’t know what could be so funny about it. I’ve only known her for a short time and she’s been in more trouble than I have had in all my life.” Tristan picked up his briefcase.

He kept it as close to him as most men did their wallet. Probably more so if he had to hazard a guess. Straightening his tie, he was ready to leave. “She’s my mate. I don’t want her to be, but there you have it. What am I supposed to do with her, I ask you? Why, I don’t even know what she is much less her proper name.”

“Not much you can do now that you’ve found her.” Aaron grinned at him as he offered up a suggestion. “I would suggest that you try talking to her. From what I’ve heard, she isn’t too happy when she’s pushed.”

Tristan thought that was an understatement and he left the building to find her. She was going to have to learn some ground rules. Somehow, though, he didn’t think she was going to like that any better than being pushed.

Tristan hid in shadows when he got to the place of their last contact. There was police tape encircling the area where she went down and the police were still milling about. Her blood was in a dark pool within the tape and his only means of finding her. It took him an hour to track her scent from the blood, as he had never tasted hers before and that made it slightly more difficult. She was still alive and currently in a local hospital, the officer told him. He hadn’t actually told Tristan, but it was in his mind. The officer also thought she was very beautiful. For reasons Tristan didn’t want to think about, that pissed him off royally. He materialized there next.

Staying shadowed, Tristan went into her room, having followed her scent to the correct one. She had a policewoman in the room with her, and was handcuffed to the bed by her right ankle. Her arm was tied down by a soft cloth restraint with an IV in the back of her hand. There was bleeding a little from her surgery and there were staples holding the wound closed. Her left leg was propped up with a pillow and wrapped up as well. He could smell the gun residue there. She was still sedated, but only slightly now, having come from surgery an hour ago.

Tristan pushed the officer into going out of the room with the need for a smoke break. Tristan could smell the tobacco scent all over the woman. He could also smell the beginnings of lung cancer, and promised himself when she returned he would stop her need for the nicotine once and for all.
Stupid humans.

He stood over her for a few minutes just looking at her. This was only the second time he had seen her if he didn’t count taking her to his home in Paris, and the both times she had been unconscious. He’d have to claim her soon if he wanted to spend any time with her. At this rate, she wouldn’t last very long the way she got into trouble. It didn’t occur to him that he was planning their future and would have denied it if he’d been asked.

Putting his wrist to his mouth, he opened his vein for her again and put it to her mouth. She resisted harder this time, her body not as broken, nor near death, but finally gave in and drew him in when he closed off her nose again. He only gave her a few sips, not wanting to alarm anyone with her miraculous recovery. Once he sealed the tiny opening with his saliva, he studied her. She really was very beautiful.

Her hair had been put into a haphazard knot on top of her head, and its rich fall colors brightened against the white of the pillow. Her face was oval-shaped with brows that were perfectly shaped, arched just enough. Her nose was small and sloped with a small bump in the middle where it may have been broken once and knowing what little he did of her, probably more than that. Her mouth called to him with its fullness and shape. It begged for kisses, deep, exploratory ones, and he wanted to do just that. Her jaw was strong and stubborn-looking, which in light of recent events, was probably as true a statement as anything else. Her right shoulder was bare, allowing for the wires from the heart monitor and other equipment to do their work. It begged to be bitten. He found himself leaning down to give in to temptation and brushed his lips across hers. He moaned aloud, her taste exquisite, her breath warm. He ran his tongue along her jaw and then down the long column of her neck. He paused over her pulse. Feeling it beat against his tongue sent tremors throughout his body, centralizing at his cock. He needed to taste her, he justified to himself, so that he could find her quicker if she needed him, when she needed him, he amended. Just a taste, just to find her. Even as he bit, he knew it for the lie it was.

His cock surged at her taste when her blood entered his mouth, his need to be inside of her blotting out everything around him. He drew deep from her, her essences filling him, completing him. He rubbed his hand hard against his cock, hoping for some relief of the sudden and overriding need to come, but to come deep inside of her. She moaned and he felt it as surely as he tasted her. Suddenly, he heard the voices just outside of her room seconds before he gave in and pulled his cock free to…he wasn’t sure what his plan had been. It was as though he had been jolted awake from a dream that he didn’t know how would end. Panting hard and aching, he sealed the wound to her throat and pulled back into the wall just as her door opened.

“No, I don’t know who she is. As I have said numerous times already, she had no identification on her at the time we found her body.”

Two men entered her room, oblivious to Tristan only a few feet from them. Luckily, he understood enough German to know what they were saying, as it was his second language.

“So, let me get this straight, because if I’m hearing you correctly, you were chasing a man who had shot and killed another man and ran across this woman lying there bleeding. Is that about right? She was just lying there with nothing on her, not even a purse or anything?” The detective growled low in his throat. Tristan could feel that he hated the other man, really and truly hated him. Touching the other man’s mind, Tristan could see why. The man was by and far the most stupid man he’d ever known and quite possibly the most incompetent.

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. If you want my opinion, I think that…”

“I’m not paying you to think, you fuck wad. I’m paying you to catch the bad guys. Does this little bit of a thing look like a bad guy to you? Hell, my wife won’t go to the fucking mail box without her purse. Let me tell you what happened. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s all. Whoever you were chasing took her purse and shot her when she made a noise. Understand me? I want you to take these cuffs off of her. Leave the guard. Poor mite, he has her address and things so I want her safe.”

“I…she’s my wife. I can protect her. The officer, I won’t need her. I have my own bodyguards for her safety.” Tristan stepped out of the corner and was talking before his mind knew what the hell his mouth was doing.

Both men jerked around at the voice behind them. Neither man had known that he was in the room, and they wouldn’t have until he was ready. Tristan was trying to think fast. He’d never been much for lying and had thought he was really terrible at it.

“I’m sorry, Mister…?”

“St. James. Tristan St. James. This is my wife…err what happened? I…when she didn’t come home, I called a few of her friends and they told me where she had gone after lunch. I followed her…I looked that way and found the crime scene tape and came to the hospital. They told me they had a Jane Doe fitting her description and it’s her. My wife, that’s her.” He sounded like a moron, he thought.

He looked over at her at that moment and saw that she was looking at him. His breath caught in his throat. The moan he just barely caught before it had escaped was frozen in place. Her eyes, they were…well, green just didn’t do justice to the color, and hers were radiant. Emeralds were the first thing he thought of then dismissed that as well. They paled in comparison to the beauty that now glared at him.

“Your wife, huh? If I’m your wife, you should at least show some concern that I’m awake, shouldn’t you, honeybunches?” T
ristan didn’t like her tone, nor, for that matter, her calling him names.

“Are you going to play along, or do I let them know that you aren’t as innocent as they think? Because by accounts, there is no way you fit the ‘poor mite’ description either.”

“Hummm, good point, but what makes you think I’m not innocent? The ball is in your park, bloodsucker. What do you wanna do? If you leave, I can make sure they never knew you were here. And in actuality, I’d prefer that you did leave. Shoo.” T
ristan felt the strong compulsion in her voice and had to work hard at ignoring it.

He didn’t know whether to laugh at her or to spank her. No one had ever “shoo-ed” him before and he was reasonably sure that he didn’t like that either. He decided to set her straight on a few things.

“My name is Tristan, not honeybunches, or bloodsucker, if you don’t mind. I absolutely hate pet names. And I’ll play this out for now, if you behave, or is that not within your scope of understanding?”

“Fuck off, dick weed.” S
he spoke out loud next, putting as much pain and agony in her voice as she could. Tristan didn’t think he could stomach much more so was glad when she only did it for a minute.

“Sweetums, is that you? Oh my, love buckets, I’ve had such a horrible experience. I was so frightened. That man, he was so bossy to me. You know how I hate to be yelled at, doddle butt, and he was so beastly to me.” S
he gave a little sob and a sniffle.

“Stop calling me those ridiculous names! And don’t quit your day job, you’re a horrible actress. By the way, what’s your name?”

“Fuck off, pookie bear. You’re the one who started this. And none of your business.”

The police left shortly afterwards, assured by Tristan that his “wife” would be protected and safe. And no, she didn’t—
sniffle, sniffle
—see the gunman, but he did have a “big old gun,” and if she thought of anything, anything at all, she would be sure to call them. As soon as the door closed behind them, she turned on him, the ungrateful wretch.

“So, you wanna tell me how I just happened to be in your mother’s care a few days ago?”

~CHAPTER SIX~

“How did…I didn’t…” Tristan took a deep breath and counted to ten. She was the biggest irritant he had ever met. And a slob. He reached over and started to button the flannel shirt she had on over her black t-shirt. Did she own anything else, he wondered, but black? Then he remembered those panties and bras. Those were definitely not black, but fire engine red and bright daffodil yellow. Oh, those were very nice. When she smacked his hands away, he huffed at her.

“I’ve been dressing myself for a long time, so back off.” She sat down on the only chair in the room and began putting her shoes on.

She had tumbled from the bed right after asking about his mother and went limping badly into the bathroom, grabbing the emergency room bag with her clothes in it on the way. He had watched her walk away from him; the gown offered him a perfect view of the long line of her back. It was too bad that she remembered to hold the bottom of it together at the last minute. He wondered what color she’d put on today.

“Why would you wear such a garment and not wear it properly?” He had made the bed while she was dressing. Who made hospital beds before they left? he wondered, and decided he’d muss it before they left. Maybe. Okay, he knew that he wouldn’t, but figured he should get points for at least thinking about it. Somehow, he didn’t think the woman in the chair would give them to him.

“You have on a suit and tie in the middle of the night. Don’t harp on me and my clothing, you nerd. You have enough issues of your own to deal with. What are you doing here anyway? And you never answered my question about your mom.” 

Her shoes tied, she leaned back in the chair. She looked weak and dizzy all of the sudden. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her, but thought he might be able to keep more of his manly parts if he didn’t.

“My mother was keeping an eye on you while I had other issues to attend to. I would appreciate it if you refrained from doing anything like that to her again. What’s the matter with you, you look pale?” He felt guilty about the taste he had taken of her, but he wouldn’t regret it. Her taste still lingered in his mouth and on his tongue.

The woman didn’t answer him, but sat there for a couple more minutes before the nurse walked in. She looked surprised the see her up and about.

“Oh my, but you’re up! I didn’t…you were shot only hours ago. I’m sorry, I’m glad you’re up.” Nurse Jenkins was obviously flustered and Tristan hated making her feel that way. When he started to explain how she was a quick healer…the girl in the chair spoke up. Tristan really needed to know her name

“I would like you to get my papers to leave ready please. I’d like to go home with my…” She waved a hand in his general direction. “Whatever. Could you get them for me?”

The woman stood in front of the nurse and waited for her to look at her. When she did, she captured her eyes, the green of the girl’s darkening to a deep forest color. The nurse immediately seemed to relax, to become unfocused.

“My papers for an immediate discharge, I need for you to bring them to me. And any paperwork that pertains to me must be destroyed after I leave today. You’ll need to get them now, please.”

“Yes, of course. You’ll be leaving us today, right now. I’ll just go and get your paperwork ready. And tomorrow morning, I’ll make sure that they are shredded. If you’ll just wait here, I’ll be right back.”

After Nurse Jenkins left the room, Tristan stared at the girl. She’d just enchanted that woman, and quite easily too. There was definitely more to her than humanly possible.

“What are you?” He was awed by her. Not only that, maybe just a tad frightened. She was more than he’d bargained for.

“A laboratory rat that went horribly, horribly wrong and should have been put out of everyone’s misery. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have people to kill and money to make.” She turned toward the door and slammed her nose into his chest. She immediately stepped back two paces. “What?”

“You are not going anywhere until I have some questions answered. Sit.” He stepped toward her and pointed to the chair.

“Do you want to train me to piss on the newspaper too? I assure you, I’m completely house trained.” She grinned then. “Well, maybe not completely. I do have a nasty habit of ripping hearts out of chests when I’m pissed.”

“You don’t frighten me.”
Not overly much
, he thought. “Now sit down. I don’t have all night, the sun will be up soon, and we have a long way to go before I’m satisfied you understand how I am to fit properly into your life from now on. There will be rules about you moving about the world on your own. That will stop without proper care on your part.”

“Of course, your dickship. While I’m bowing and scraping, would you like for me to lick your boots as well? You can just…” She leaned in and sniffed his throat. Tristan felt his cock go from semi-hard, a perpetual state around her, to rock hard in a nanosecond. “You? Oh my God, you healed me? You gave me your blood, didn’t you? Well shit, shit, and double shit! Do you know what you’ve done?”

She started advancing on him; he backed up. Her eyes had darkened again, that deep, deep green that he found he was beginning to love. Then stopped that thought before it could get him into trouble. More so than he was currently in.

“I was called to help and to save your life. And I did, so yes, I healed you. You would have been dead had I not. But that does not negate the fact that things have changed. You must learn to—”

“You had no right! No right at all! Do you think that I want to live like this? Do you think that I do this job because it fulfills me? You insufferable prick. I…I should…”

Her growl startled him. It was deep and sexy, low, and purred along his skin like a caress. Tristan thought he was going to need a therapist when this was over. He’d gone off the deep…deeper end since meeting her.

She turned quickly, and he moved forward again to catch her, but it only made him a closer target. She came back around in a roundhouse punch that caught him square on his right jaw. Pain unlike he’d ever felt before reverberated through is entire body. His head exploded first from her fist connecting to his jaw, then when his head connected with the wall behind him. He dropped to the floor and slipped away.

When he came around a few minutes later—thank God for the regenerative powers of a vampire—he was still on the floor of her hospital room. She, of course, was nowhere in sight. He stood up slowly and ran his hand along his jaw, wincing at how tender it was. Then he felt for the knot on the back of his head and his fingers came away with a few drops of blood. Christ, that woman could deliver a punch! And shit! He was no closer to figuring out her name than he had been before.

He reached for her and found that she was still in the hospital, downstairs in the main area. Ah, billing. He grabbed his briefcase and went to find his lovely mate. He stepped into the elevator and pushed the button to go down. When the doors closed, he could only stare at the reflection that looked back at him in the stainless steel doors. 

His clothing was disheveled, his tie askew. He saw a stain on his shirt and lifted the spot to his nose to inhale the small drop of her blood he’d spilled. But it was his face that startled him. The smile on his own face was so unfamiliar to him. He nearly looked behind him to see who could be standing that close. She had just knocked him for a loop, disobeyed him, and he was smiling. He had been too long without his solitude. She was affecting his mind, slowly driving him insane.

~~~

She was standing there crying when he came up behind her. When she saw him, she turned her back to him and wiped furiously at her face. When she turned back, she glared at him when he handed her his handkerchief. She laughed as she took it.

“What?” He didn’t look amused. But then she thought he was always scowling at one thing or another when she was around.

“Only you would carry a real cloth handkerchief when there are, oh I don’t know, perhaps fifty different brands of tissues on the market.” Bailey blew her nose and tried to hand it back to him. Of course he didn’t take it.

“They tend to be unsanitary and human diseases abound. We may not be able to catch anything from them, but we still don’t have to be subject to their germs.”

He hadn’t referred to her as human, she noticed. He was correct in that, but for some reason, it bothered her. She was about to tell him to get lost again when she remember that he’d given her blood. She smiled when he flexed his jaw and rubbed it.

“Did you take mine? My blood, did you take mine too?”

“Yes. I…what’s your name? Please tell me your name.” He moved closer to her and she tried to back away. The woman behind the counter came from behind the stacks of filing cabinets just then or Bailey wasn’t sure she would have moved back more.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. St. James, but I don’t got no billing for you down here already. Do you thinking maybe it’s been under a differ name?” Her English, while butchered, didn’t hurt Bailey’s ears as much as some people’s version of what they thought was English might should like when they were faced with something they didn’t know. But she understood her well enough.

“No, I’m sure it’s just delayed. I’ll be in tomorrow to pay for the billing.” Bailey glanced at her name tag. “Shanna, right? Shall I ask for you then?”

“Yes, missus. That’ll be fine. I be in at eight o’clock. Billing usually have the new ones down to us at that time. If you ask for me, I will help.” Bailey smiled her thanks.

After the woman walked away, back to her cubbyhole, Bailey turned to Tristan. She had never really looked at him, and found herself mesmerized. He was a superb species of a man if maybe a little uptight; well, okay, he was a lot uptight. His hair was long, just curving up at his collar, and the color was a rich, shiny black. It was so thick, it begged to be tousled. She wanted to, too, to tousle him completely. He also had a deep widow’s peak. His eyes were dark blue and she knew that they could be darker, because they deepened, getting redder when he was angry. She had yet to see him happy, thinking he hadn’t been so in a long, long time. She didn’t know if they lightened when he smiled, but wasn’t willing to get too attached to find out. His jaw was hard and strong, the bruise she had given him already fading. He was taller than her by nearly a foot, and outweighed her by a good seventy-five pounds of pure male muscle.

But it was his voice; it was deep and soft at the same time. His accent, though slight, made her skin prickle with goose bumps, and when he whispered through her mind, well, she just wasn’t going to go there. Suffice it to say, she needed a quick trip to the ladies room to cool her cheeks. Other parts of her body wanted relief too, but that so wasn’t happening. He drove her so crazy one minute she wanted to hit him, then he’d get close to her and it was all she could do not to strip him down and taste him.

“I’m hungry. For food. And I have to tell you what will happen now that you’ve taken my blood. I…I’m not…it will make changes in you. You need to know what to expect. Then I want you to go away and leave me alone. We have nothing in common, other than you drive me as bat-shit as I do you. So do we have a deal?”

He looked at her for a few long tense seconds, then stepped up to her and pinned her to the counter that was just behind her with a hand on each side of her body. His pressed tightly up against hers.

“No.” He leaned in slowly and brushed his lips across hers in a featherlike touch. Then again, slightly harder, more firmly, breathing her in. She flicked out her tongue to taste him on her mouth. When he groaned and ran his tongue across the seam of her lips she had just dampened, her entire body felt it. When she opened for him, he took her voraciously, devoured her, and consumed her. Bailey’s hands tentatively touched his shoulders, moved lightly across them when he put his hands to her elbows and pushed them up to encircle him. He then pulled her to him, one arm around the small of her waist, the other tucked deeply under her neck.

The world ceased to move. Nothing else mattered but his mouth on hers, his body pressing against hers. And when he slid his leg between hers and pulled her harder against him, she moaned, deep from her toes. Her body was on fire for his. 

“Excuse me!
Excuse me!
This is a hospital, not a brothel. I will have you know that we frown upon that sort of behavior here. You will need to take this elsewhere, preferable somewhere in private.” The woman’s voice cut through the haze of sexual fog like a knife.

Bailey jerked away from Tristan so fast she banged the counter and knocked a vase off. Had it not been for his fast move, it would have shattered on the floor. She moved to her left, getting as far from him as she could. What the fuck was wrong with her?

“I’m sorry, I…we didn’t…I…he kissed…”

Bailey ran her fingers across her lips that were still warm, no, hot from his mouth being against them. He watched her so intently that she couldn’t have made a coherent thought or decision if her life depended on it. He had literally rocked her world and was continuing to do so. He glanced at the woman behind them and answered for them both

“Thank you, I do apologize, but she was in a terrible accident today and I was just so happy to find her all right that I…well, you know how newlyweds are. We just can’t get enough of each other at the best of times. Do forgive us, we’ll be going now. Come, love, we should let this nice lady get back to work.” He held out his hand. She knew that once she took it, things were never going to be the same again. Bailey closed her eyes and put her hand into his.