Eternal Prey

Not a gentle first kiss. It was a kiss filled with tangled emotions he thought he’d need a lifetime to unravel—the savagery of his beast, the anger at her rejection of his soul, and the desire to please her.

His raptor wasn’t good enough for her. But even as he dived into all the sensory pleasure enhanced by his animal nature, he knew it could never be about only one thing with her.

Tracing her lips with his tongue, he tasted her. As he deepened the kiss, fighting his soul’s demand that he abandon human behavior in favor of ripping her clothes from her luscious body, he felt something waken in her. It stretched, flexed its claws, and looked at him.

She wrapped her arms around him and met his ferocity with her own. Opening her mouth, she welcomed him in.

And all the reasons in the world why he shouldn’t be doing this went to hell.

This was what
he
wanted, what his
beast
wanted.

And neither one would be denied.

T
rapped. Freaking
trapped.
In the wrong time, in the wrong place, defending a bunch of dumbass humans. Utah leaned on his horn to signal the crappy driver in front of him that when the light turned green you were supposed to
go
. Maybe he should free his beast and eat the guy. A protein snack would perk him right up.

And to think he’d really believed he could fit in here. Out of all the Eleven, he’d been the happiest, ready to put the past behind him and embrace 2012. Then the vampires had killed Rap, and he’d realized this time was no different from the last. It was just a different kind of jungle. Killing was still the only answer.

So let him kill. He was good at it. But Fin was trying to put him in a box, make him follow
his
rules. Damn it, Utah was used to leading, to going where he wanted, to slaughtering what he wanted. And what he wanted to slaughter was vampires. To emphasize his independence, he slammed shut the door in his mind that connected him to Fin. Didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

He whipped around the car in front of him. Too slow. After tonight, someone else would control the speed, but for now, he’d tear up the road if he wanted. And he didn’t care if the immortals they were chasing
did
find him without his human shield. To hell with them.

Everyone was right. He was a maniac behind the wheel. To prove it, he skidded around a corner, straightened out, and gunned it. Did he care? Not much. This would be his last shot at mindless speed for a while. He’d shackled himself to his brother Rap’s soul and a hired human driver who was trying to catch him right now. Too bad Utah had pulled out of the condo’s parking garage just as his driver was pulling in. Utah knew his smile was all kinds of evil. He didn’t know who Fin had hired to shuttle him around Portland, but they weren’t starting their job tonight.

He demonstrated how pissed off he was with the situation by jamming his foot down on the accelerator. Immature, but it felt good. He looked in the mirror. Still there. Okay, so the guy could drive. Utah would have to try harder.

Good thing it was so late. There wasn’t much traffic, and he hadn’t seen any cops. Utah glanced at a city park. If he took a detour across the grass and around a few trees, would the human stay with him? Might be worth a try.

While he was busy mulling over ways to escape from the guy riding his back bumper, his cell rang. He punched the button on his steering wheel. “Yeah?”

“Pull over, you prehistoric jerk. I’ve been trying to catch you since you left Fin’s. Let me guess, you had to dump all the Cracker Jacks from the box to find your driver’s license. No wonder Fin wants me to drive you around. You’re a menace.”

Shock made him slow down a little. He didn’t know what surprised him more, that his tail was a woman or that she’d had the guts to call him a prehistoric jerk. Men had died for less.

“Look, lady, I don’t need a babysitter tonight. Go back and tell Fin you lost me.”

“Not going to happen. And you absolutely need me. A human has to stay close—like
inside
your car—to keep this Seven guy from tracking you. Just an aside, but I feel stupid calling anyone Seven. Give him a human name like Bill or Tom. Anyway, that’s me, your designated human. Now pull over.”

“Immortals don’t have names like Bill or Tom.” She intrigued him. She knew more about him than the ordinary humans Fin hired to drive them around. But that didn’t matter. No one, not even a female with a sexy voice and a bossy attitude, would interfere with his last wild ride.

“Sure, pulling over now.” Utah flipped on his blinker and coasted to the curb. He kept the engine running. Then he waited until she parked her car and climbed out.

He had a brief glimpse of long jeans-clad legs before he jammed his foot down on the accelerator and took off. Utah laughed as he glanced in the mirror and saw her flinging herself back into her car. Too late.

Utah was so busy wondering what went with those legs that he almost didn’t see the man standing in the middle of the dark street. Only the lightning-fast reflexes of a born hunter kept him from hitting the guy. The street was too narrow for this kind of crap, and Utah almost plowed into a light pole as he jerked the wheel to the left. The man didn’t even flinch as he came
this
close to getting his dumb butt flattened.

Utah slid on the wet street—didn’t it ever stop raining in Oregon?—as he corrected for his sudden turn. Once the car was pointed in the right direction again, Utah paused. What he wanted to do was get out of his car and knock the idiot onto his ass. Jeez, he was still standing in the same spot.

But Utah had to get back to Fin’s in an hour. The Eleven were meeting to talk strategy. And since Utah had decided to rejoin the team, for now, he wanted to be on time. Reluctantly, he pressed down on the gas . . . and listened as the motor cut off. Wonderful.

The human mind is slow. His hadn’t even begun to make sense of the situation. Good thing he had a soul with a primitive instinct that simply
knew
.
Danger. Don’t get trapped in the car.

Utah listened to his instinct. Shoving the door open, he launched himself from the car . . . a second before it burst into flames.

He automatically scanned the area. No other people on the street, no one sticking his head from a window. There was a car on fire, for God’s sake. Where were the rubberneckers? But everything remained silent except for the crackling of the fire. He backed away from the burning car as he flung his hand in front of his face to block the heat. Then without warning, the fire died, leaving nothing but a blackened frame. What the . . . ?

Utah shifted his gaze to the man still standing in the street. Night shadows cast darkness across his face. All Utah could see was a tall man dressed in black. Except for his hair. Even without light, Utah could see the dark red sheen of it. Long, the guy’s hair seemed to have the same glitter going as Fin’s hair. His imagination? Could be. Utah narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see the man’s face. He had a predator’s vision. Even with no light, he should have no trouble seeing. But he still couldn’t make out the guy’s features.

Wait, where were the streetlights? And there should’ve been lights coming from some of the buildings on either side of the street. There weren’t. Shit.

It didn’t take many brain cells to put things together. Utah didn’t have a human with him, so Seven could track him. Seven and Team Evil had all kinds of crazy power. Was this Seven?

Thought became action in his mind. He crouched, ready to spring. But in the second before his beast would have exploded from its cave buried deep in his soul, he staggered and almost fell.

It felt as though someone had put hands of steel on both sides of his head and squeezed. Utah swore he could feel his brain turning to mush. He expected it to shoot out of his ears at any minute. Then there was the voice in his head.

“You’ll be so easy to kill, Utah. The fire didn’t get you, but all I’d have to do is to keep squeezing that hard head of yours until your brain really did squirt out your ears. Love the mental picture. Should’ve listened to Fin and hung around a few humans.”

Utah froze, unable to move forward no matter how hard he tried. He fought to fling the intruder from his mind.

“Now, now. Trying to kick your guest out so soon? And I have so much to say to you.”
His mental laughter echoed eerily.
“Hate to tell you, but if I want to stay, I’ll stay. Right now, I’m trying to decide the most entertaining way to kill you.”

Utah gave up on the mental eviction attempt, and focused on releasing his animal. But his beast, always eager to taste freedom, crept further back into its cave.
No.
This couldn’t be happening. Utah concentrated harder.

“Your predator is sleeping in tonight. Sorry.”
He didn’t sound sorry.
“Fin isn’t the only one who can control your beast. Let’s see now, will it be spontaneous combustion or an exploding head? Both are lots of fun to watch. Oh, and if you want to give Fin a mental shout-out, feel free. I’ll even get out of your mind so it won’t be too crowded in there. After all, it doesn’t seem fair for you to die when Fin was the one who brought you here.”

This was about Fin then. If Utah called for help, Fin would come. Utah wasn’t going to be the bait used to draw his leader into an ambush. So he kept the link between them closed.

Utah struggled against the invisible whatever keeping him from the bastard. All his effort got him was a cold sweat and shaky legs.

The guy had to be Seven. Only Seven would know this much about the Eleven. But if this
was
Seven, then they were all in lots of trouble. Utah had fought Eight, but Eight’s power hadn’t felt like this—a heavy pulsing in his veins that threatened to burst them, a drumbeat of energy that kept getting stronger and stronger and stronger.

Utah knew when to retreat. He couldn’t touch whoever or whatever this was, so he needed to escape. Fast. He had to lose himself in the dark, maybe run down one of the side alleys where he might be able to slip away or free his beast. Not that he had much of a chance. If this was Seven, he could follow Utah anywhere. Utah had to try, though. Because once his opponent realized he hadn’t sent Fin a distress signal, he’d have no reason to keep Utah alive.