Cracked (9 page)

“Me too.” He brushed the hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ears.

“You didn’t look scared.” Kissed his chin.

“I grew up a smart kid in a rough Xicano neighborhood in L.A. in the
’
60s and
’
70s. I haven’t always had the easiest life,
querida.
I learned a long time ago to keep fear off my face, replace it with disdain.”

“Neat trick,” she mumbled.

A brittle laugh exploded from him. “I’m surprised you of all people couldn’t feel my fear.”

“I probably thought it was my own.” She yawned, stretching her arms up and wrapping them around his shoulders.

“I love you.” He said it as if she didn’t know, as if she couldn’t feel it, but she took it in with greedy ears.

“I love you,” she answered, needing to say it as much as she needed to hear it.

“Let’s go to bed.” He stood, pulling his pants back up as he reached for her. The kiss he gave her filled her with a steady, throbbing joy as she took his hand and led him back to the bedroom—locking the door against anything that might go bump in the night.

Chapter Ten

S
arita had never been in the conference room before. Angelo squeezed her hand as he gestured her through the door, Mac and Gerard following. Her family, minus the twins, of course, was there, even uncle Ted had come up from Maryland. Graham and Ellen were there, Kathy sitting between them, and Annie perched at the end of the long conference table, gesturing madly while talking to Fionn. Around the table, pack representatives serving in the national wolf government had taken seats.

Sarita sat down next to Mac, while Angelo went to speak to Graham. Biting her lip, she watched the two men greet each other, their wolves tightly controlled. She knew her mate had been worried about this conversation. Graham was a big part of his desire to avoid re-affiliation. A tightness in Graham’s expression hinted at his own wariness. She watched, trying not to intrude on Angelo’s thoughts, as both men relaxed, and finally Graham stood and embraced Angelo.

Intrude? Love, you would never intrude
Angelo teased as he made his way back to her side.

Mac and Gerard had been her constant companions since the night of the full moon. They brought her coffee in the morning, or took her to the cafeteria to get it herself, and stayed with her while she worked, not even complaining about the smells of her photo chemistry. Mac had rigged up a security system on the door to her suite. He’d set the alarm to ring in his own room just down the hall should Sarita’s door open without her disabling the system. A few days before, the Ahne had called and left her a lilting message of thanks for the beautiful vessel, with an invitation to visit and witness a ceremony sometime. Sarita shuddered at the memory of that cold voice and veiled threat.

“Hiya, Littlebit.” Her uncle Ted stood over her. She grinned, standing to hug him. “Congrats on your mating. Angelo is a fierce wolf.” He winked.

“Thanks, Teddy.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“How’s Kathy?” he asked, looking down the table toward the little wolf. Sarita saw something in his expression, remembering Angelo had mentioned Ted and Kathy had been close before “the betrayal” as her parents insisted on calling it.
Melodrama much?

“C’mon, come say hi. She’s been so lonely for such a long time.” Sarita pulled her uncle over to Kathy. “Hey, Kath.” She smiled, “Ted was just asking after you. I thought he should come say hello.”

Sheepishly, Ted looked down at his feet before looking back up at his old friend. “Hi,” he whispered. There was an undercurrent of tension in his expression, and Sarita realized he was tapping their long-severed connection. Ducking her head, she turned to walk away, taking one last look over her shoulder.

Kathy’s troubled look disappeared, and she smiled at Ted with genuine warmth. “Hi. Thanks.” Then she grew quiet again, but they maintained eye contact as they conversed silently. The expression on Ted’s face as he leaned closer to Kathy made Sarita feel like she was trespassing.

“That was good of you,” Mac said quietly. “I’m sorry I treated her badly when she first got here.”

“It’s okay, Mac. She knows you care now. Did you make a link with her?”

“She is as my little sister.” He smiled, “She opened herself to me. I’m not worried for you. I trust her.”

“She could have been lying.” Angelo looked carefully at the younger man.

“Yes. I suppose she could have been. But I chose to trust her, because Gerard and Sarita do.” Mac leveled an icy glare back at Angelo.

“Good.” Angelo grinned. “I trust her too. Goddess help me, but I do.”

Fionn moved to the front of the room, scratching absently at the back of his head. In spite of his years of prominence in Were politics, he still seemed like an awkward boy at times. It was part of his immeasurable charm, the way he put people at ease.

“Hey, everyone, thanks for coming.” His voice resonated throughout all of them, and their attention was immediately riveted. “A few nights ago, while we ran under the full moon, a First Blood approached Sarita and her mate, her friends, and her Guide on the outskirts of the Amazon compound.” As murmurs broke out around the room, he held up his hands in a placating gesture. “For now, we are treating this as a family matter, an Amazon matter. However, because Sarita’s task is important to wolves as a whole, we want to make you all aware of it, and we want to ask for cooperation—should anyone among your packs have contact with the First Blood, please let Jack Murphy know. As the Guardian of the Amazon Pack, he’s responsible for Sarita’s safety.”

The wolves around the table nodded, several of them pulling out cell phones to send rushed messages to packmates.

“Okay, that being said, I’m going to have Bear, Sarita’s Guide, update us with what he’s learned. Gerard?”

Bear stood, stretching slightly, his enormous chest puffing out and his hands clutching the top of his chair.

“The Ahne and her servant are attempting to make inroads with Sarita,” he rumbled. “They want to enthrall her so that they can feed on her and keep her from being present at the time of the eclipse. The eclipse is just a few months away, we need to watch with vigilance between now and then. Once the Mother is released, She can protect Her own against the Blood-Drinkers. Until then, Sarita’s protection is my only concern. Sarita has a schedule of showings at galleries in New York, D.C., and New Orleans. While we’re traveling, we will be dependent upon local wolves to help conceal her movements.”

“And me,” Kathy interrupted. “I can be a decoy.”

“We do not demand that of you, Kathy Kirk,” Gerard said, meeting her gaze steadily as his voice took on a ceremonial gravity.

“But I volunteer. It’s the least I can do to repay the Murphy family for the—” her eyes flashed a hint of her wolf “—kindness they have shown me. Sarita is perhaps the only true friend I have. I want to protect her. We’re roughly the same size. We’re both more or less gray wolves, and I can color my hair and pass for her from a distance. And I can lie to a Blood-Drinker even as they have their lips to my throat. Not everyone in this room can. Maybe not anyone.” Her eyes fell. “Please.”

“Very well.” Annie stood, purring. “It’s done. Kathy will serve as a decoy.”

Gerard nodded before turning his face to Fionn. “I’ll take Sarita, her bodyguards, Kathy and her own guards to speak privately. If you’ll excuse us.”

“Of course, Guide, thank you.” Fionn waved them out.

Sarita wasn’t surprised that her uncle Ted followed them from the room, taking Kathy aside. She snuck a glance at the two of them, foreheads pressed together, the scent of their wolves thick between them. Suddenly, the reason her uncle had never mated was clear. It wasn’t that he’d never found his mate, he’d just never claimed her. Heart breaking a little for them, she blushed and looked away again.

“Sarita, have you heard a word I just said?” Mac was trying to get her attention. Still blushing, she shook her head.

“I’m sorry, I was distracted,” she confessed. “What were we talking about?”

“Travel arrangements. If you’re okay with driving to New York for the first show?”

“Oh yeah, whatever. We can send the pieces ahead.”

“Kathy, you don’t mind coming to New York?” Mac asked. Sarita looked back at Kathy in time to see Ted leave the room, his posture tense with aggression and deprivation. Kathy nodded as she moved to stand beside Sarita, absently throwing an arm around her waist.

“I’ve always wanted to see the Big Apple.” She smiled at Mac.

Please don’t tell anyone.
Kathy’s voice in Sarita’s head felt like thousands of bubbles bursting across her nose.

All this time?
Sarita couldn’t help but wonder.

I seem to have made some appallingly bad life choices.
The bubbles flat now, Kathy’s head dropped to Sarita’s shoulder. With a pang of regret for Kathy and Ted, Sarita wrapped her own arm around the other woman’s waist and hugged.

Chapter Eleven

T
he art pieces were sent ahead to New York, and Angelo had followed shortly thereafter. Though he’d only been gone a few days, there was a dull, aching, Angelo-shaped sore spot in her spirit that plagued Sarita like a toothache. And like a toothache, she kept probing that sore spot, bringing it raging back to life whenever she thought of him, which was constantly. When Mac and Gerard came to get her, she was simultaneously high-strung and relieved. Along with Kathy, they were finally headed to New York. Sarita leaned her head on Mac’s shoulder as Gerard drove them through the gate, her eyelids already heavy with exhaustion…

“Ita…” Mac shook her awake. “We’re in the city. Angelo has arranged for parking a few blocks from his home. We’ll be there soon.”

Eyes burning against the sunlight, Sarita rubbed at them and peered at Mac. “Did I fall asleep?” she mumbled.

“Yah, I think someone needs a Starbucks.” He grinned at her. “Or just her mate.” He raised an eyebrow.

“How far is Angelo’s apartment?”

The walk to his apartment was short, the city-scented air stirring Sarita’s wolf senses. She
liked
it here. She was relieved as she felt her wolf starting to enjoy the sights and sounds around her. She could live here. It wasn’t just bravado and a fear of losing him that made her promise to move here. Her wolf actually knew what she was doing.

The doorman let them in. Angelo was already waiting in the lobby. The moment Sarita saw him, she was flying across the lavish stone floors, diving into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. His kiss was soul-shaking, she needed it so badly… and there it was, bursting with passion and feverish with longing. She felt his teeth lengthening as she ground her hips into his, not caring who saw them. The world had fallen away—her hand stroked down his face, feeling some rough stubble on his chin, contrasting starkly with the incredibly soft sweater crushing against her breasts. His hands gripped her buttocks, holding her tight to his undulating body. She felt a hand sliding up under her jacket, stroking the satin skin of her back.

It was only the rumble at the back of her mind, Gerard’s combined amusement and disapproval, that pulled her back. Her eyes met Angelo’s, and a giggle slipped from her as she slid back down his body. He groaned as she pressed herself against him, his eyes as wild as hers.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her wolf whimpering around the words

He laughed. “Let’s go.” He pushed the button for the elevator, shoved her inside as the doors opened. Mac and Gerard followed, then Kathy, looking lost next to Bear.

Sarita wasn’t sure what she had been expecting Angelo’s apartment to look like, but the opulence that greeted her wasn’t it. It was huge in a city that didn’t do huge. She gasped as she looked around, suddenly feeling shy about her tiny little dorm suite. No wonder he didn’t want to leave this. Just as the wave of insecurity washed over her, his teeth came down on her neck, nipping lightly, herding her through the doorway. The others followed behind. With a vague gesture to his left, Angelo called out, “Guest rooms are over that way.”

Then he propelled her down a short hallway to the right and into a big, well-lit bedroom. Her hands skimmed over his cashmere v-neck sweater, reaching for the hem, but he pushed them back.

“Please, don’t rip the sweater,” he teased. “My
mami
knit it.”

She laughed, shushing against his lips as he thrust her toward the bed, a smile on his face. He pulled the sweater off, tossing it aside.

“Why do you make me lose all control?” he questioned as he shucked his khaki pants to the floor, reaching for the hem of her skirt.

“Maybe you need to lose control. Maybe you need to give it up to someone else for a change. Let me have my wild ways with you.” She was teasing, but the way he gasped at her words, the way his wolf flashed in his eyes, she knew she was onto something.

“Lay down on the bed,” she demanded, dropping her dress and heading for what she guessed was a closet. Lucky guess. Nearly as big as some of the dorm rooms back on the compound, it was lined with exquisite dark-colored suits, and in one corner, shelves that held his neatly folded ties. She snatched a handful. She tied one around her neck in a perfect Windsor knot, loosening it so that the triangular knot hung like a pendulum between her breasts. For a moment, she wondered if she could pull off the act… For her mate though, she would try. Smiling, she turned back to the bedroom. Angelo lay across the bed on his back, watching her with wary eyes.

“
Querida
…” he whispered as she knelt next to him.

“Get up on your knees,” she ordered. When they were facing each other, his erection straining between them, she bent down and kissed the bulbous head, sliding one hand around his shaft and working her way down. When he reached for her hair, she let go, taking his hand in hers. Pressing a kiss to his palm, she looked into his eyes. She saw wonder, fear, and also trust there.

“I’m going to tie your wrists to your ankles.” She explained as she fastened one wrist behind him, then the next. She toyed with the triangle knot on the tie that hung around her neck. “Do you want me to blindfold you?”

“This is
loco, querida
, but yes, you can blindfold me, if that is what you want.”

Loosening the knot on the tie, she took it off and bound it around his eyes. She knew he could break and remove any of the bonds she’d tied. She didn’t want him helpless, she just wanted him to let go of his tightly held control. Sliding a finger down his arm to his wrist, she felt as much as she heard his gasp.

“You’re all tied up for me, darling. What should I do with you?” She teased, nibbling and kissing along his collarbones, dropping a kiss with just a hint of bite to one nipple. A groan wrenched from his throat, and his hands flexed convulsively.

“Whatever you want, love.”

Before the endearment had left his lips, she had pressed her face to his groin, was licking and biting along his erection before sucking him deep to the back of her throat. His hips bucked forward, and she seized his buttocks in both hands, not letting him retreat back. Sliding one hand between his legs, she pressed against the sensitive skin just below his balls, felt his exhilaration from the pressure she placed right
there.

“Querida
, let me touch you,” he begged, his voice gravel in his throat.

She let his cock slip from her mouth. “No.” She positioned herself so she straddled his legs, his firmly muscled thighs pushing her legs apart.

She rocked against him, sliding his length along her folds. Each slip-slide of her wet heat against him made her hotter, wetter. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rode him, even as he tried to move just enough to slip inside. She hadn’t known it would be possible to get off like this, just from rubbing against him, but all of a sudden—
hell yes she could
—she was flying with the sensation of it, even as he whispered her name over and over again, writhing under her, trying to get just there.

With snarl, he snapped his wrists free, impaled her still shuddering body on his own. She squealed at his rough entry but tightened her grip on his shoulders. Still blindfolded, he let his own lust guide him, pulsing into her, once, twice, and then his hand was tugging her hair back and his teeth were on her neck and she was shouting against him. She came again, this time the convulsions of her body taking him with her to that dark, sweet nothing-space, the oblivion their lovemaking seemed to throw her into headlong, but he was always there, his touch keeping her anchored even as she soared free.

Breathing heavily, he pulled the blindfold from his eyes as he sank with her down to the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I didn’t mean to rip free.”

“Don’t be. Now I get to punish you next time.” She giggled.

“You like playing the domme, don’t you?” he smiled back at her.

“Sure, but not in a real, intense way. I thought it was fun to tie you up, but it was fucking
hot
when you ripped free and took over.”

“I’m being a rude host.” He glanced at the door.

“No. Gerard and Mac are probably doing the same thing.” She shook out her hair, the fragrance of her washing over him. “They’ve been spending so much time with me, I doubt they’ve had much time alone together. Kathy is fine too. Don’t worry.”

“Well, how about you, sweetheart? Now that we’ve satisfied one hunger, what about others? Are you hungry?”

“Mmm. Yes. I could eat.”

As they got dressed, moving about the room in tandem, sharing kisses and laughter, she felt her heart swelling with love. She felt safe, her wolf content.

“How do you feel about
chilaquiles
?” Angelo called as he strode into the kitchen.

“What’s a
chilaquile
?” She asked, tucking her hair into a loose knot at her neck.

“I guess they are a sorta Mexican comfort food. Stale tortilla cooked in salsa with cheese and veggies on top. I like
huevos
on mine.”

“Sounds yummy. Minus the
huevos
.”

“Wait a minute here. A wolf who doesn’t eat eggs?”

“They squick me out. Yuck. I eat the white part but not the yolk.”

“Well then, I will eat your yolks, and you will eat the whites—wolves need protein,
querida
.” He moved about the kitchen with ease. Soon, the tortillas were simmering in the salsa, and he had eggs frying in a pan. He whistled as he worked.

“Smells good in here.” Mac grinned as he came into the room, his face flushed. He kissed Sarita’s forehead before glancing at the stove.

Gerard rumbled into the room, smiling ear to ear. Sitting on one of the barstools in the kitchen, he pulled Mac into his arms, kissing the side of his neck. Sarita felt his joy wash over her and smiled at her Guide.

Bear, I’m so happy for you.

Thanks, Italove.

Kathy emerged from one of the guest rooms, her freckled nose twitching. She smiled shyly at the others.

Angelo began to sing out loud then, winking at his mate. He had a surprisingly strong tenor, and his ability to change the lyrics to popular songs extemporaneously had them all in fits of laughter by the time he placed steaming plates of
chilaquiles
in front of his guests. Groans of bliss filled the air as the hungry shifters all tucked in.

“Angelo, if you weren’t freaking brilliant in the boardroom, you could be a chef,” Mac said reverently as he polished off the last of the savory dish.

“I paid for undergrad by cooking in a
taqueria
,” Angelo explained. “The whole M.E.Ch.A. movement was starting strong out in Cali. I got some scholarships for being Xicano, but cooking paid the rest of the way. I wanted to get the hell out of the old ’hood.”

“I’d say you succeeded.” Sarita gestured around his posh apartment.

“
S
í
.
Beyond my wildest dreams.” His eyes grew distant as he looked at her. “
Mami y los tios
, they’re the alpha family among the
Sur Califas
Pack.
You know, they’ll never leave L.A. I could have been the Alpha out there. I probably would have been, if my Maria…” He swallowed hard against the overpowering memory of his first mate. Feeling the pain rushing through her, Sarita gasped. She saw the accident in her mind as if she were watching it from the roadside, saw the metal of the car slicing through the young woman’s body, too much trauma, too sudden for her wolf to cope. Tears sprang to her eyes as she felt the hollow rush of agony that was Angelo’s wolf leaving him behind.

“Goddess…” She reached for her mate, tugging his head to her shoulder as she shushed against him, rocking him. With a nod, a swipe across his eyes, he acknowledged the horror of it.

“It was a long, long time ago,
querida
,” he said, tracing the line of her nose. “And I have a new
vieja
now. That helps.” A smile quirked his lips up.

“Did you just call me an old woman?” Sarita looked shocked.

“It’s a term of affection, Sarita.” Mac grinned at her. “He means, his old lady, his wife.”

“I am your wife now, aren’t I? I’m not Sarita Murphy anymore.” The surprise that worked across her face made them all laugh. “Sarita Gonzalez sounds pretty sweet though.” She grinned.

“It sounds perfect.” Angelo tightened his grip around her waist, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Thank you.”

“
De nada…viejo
.”

Sarita and Mac took the subway over to the gallery to supervise the art hanging. Gerard threw an epic shit fit, and Angelo looked like he wanted to call her dad, but Mac managed to convince them he could protect her, and damn if she wasn’t glad of it. So much had changed in the last few months, she had missed spending time with her best friend.

“Buy you a Starbucks if you tell me what it’s like to kiss Bear,” she teased as they walked the two blocks from the subway to the gallery. He grinned at her, and a look of wonder softened his face.

“You know how it is, when you kiss the man you love. It’s hot and crazy sweet.”

“Cop out.” She laughed. “I bet he’s all rough and fierce and bitey. How long? I mean, the two of you kept it a secret…it couldn’t have been that long?”

“The night of my first shift. I bit him, marked him, and he bit me back.” He smiled at the memory, but the smile faded. “The next day you told me you were in love with him.”

“And you tried to stay apart, for me?” Surprise flooded her face, spilling a flush across her cheeks.

“Well, we see how that worked out.” He laughed.

“This is it.” She grinned, opening the door to the gallery. A man, dressed in jeans and a ribbed tank top, sporting a three-hundred-dollar haircut looked up from a computer as they entered. He rapidly sized them up, just as quickly dismissing them as not-the-art-collector type.

“We’re between shows right now, nothing to see here. New show opens tonight,” he grunted, turning back to his computer.

“Yeah, we’ll be there tonight.” Sarita winked at Mac. “I heard the artist was kind of a prima donna.”