Hunter's Salvation (31 page)

Catching her hands, he pushed them down by her head and muttered, “Hold still.” He slid his way down her body, pressing a long line of kisses from her breasts down to her navel. The low-slung waistband of her jeans barred the rest of her from his view. Shoving himself to his knees, Vax reached out and freed the button. He lowered the zipper and then slid his hands inside. As he pushed the faded blue denim down her thighs, he held her gaze. After he'd stripped the jeans away, he bent and pressed a hot, openmouthed kiss to the soft curls that covered her sex.

Jess whimpered and reached down, fisting her hands in his hair. She pressed up against him. The greedy, demanding motions of her hips were an erotic enticement that he couldn't resist, and one that he didn't want to. He kissed her again, stroking his tongue across her clit, circling around and around. He moved lower and plunged his tongue inside her, listening to her cry out his name.

He circled his tongue around her entrance, then nuzzled her clit. He rolled his eyes upward so he could look at her. He watched her face as he sucked on her clit, memorizing the way she looked, the way the flush tinted her cheeks pink and darkened her eyes.

He pushed his finger inside her sheath, pressing against the little notch there. She came apart in his arms, bucking her hips and screaming his name. As she came, Vax focused mentally and forced his way completely inside her subconscious. The exhaustion was stronger, weakening the hard, solid determination. He felt the last bit of her resistance fade, and when he pulled his mouth away, she collapsed bonelessly onto the mattress.

She blinked sleepily and lifted a hand towards him. Vax pressed a kiss to her palm before pushing back up onto his knees. He bent low over her body and kissed her, light and quick. She turned her mouth to his, trying to deepen the kiss, and he gave her one last push.

Her lids fluttered closed, and she fell asleep with a satisfied, sexy little smile. He stood up and grabbed the blanket, flicking it over her still form. His body screamed at him. His cock throbbed and ached. The need to lie down and force her back to wakefulness was strong. He wanted to rip his jeans off, tear away the shirt that was tangled under her arms, and cover her naked body with his. Ride her long and hard until exhaustion,
real
exhaustion, claimed them both.

Instead he turned away.

He had a job to do, and not much time to do it.

 

I
S
it worth it, baby?

Her mom's voice sounded muffled and distant. Jess had to strain to hear her. “It's worth it,” she said out loud. “Randi is worth it. Worth anything.”

I'm not talking about Randi, sweetheart. Randi is past your concern now. What comes of this doesn't matter to her. She just wants the same thing I do: you alive, safe, and happy
.

Mom's voice sounded a little more real this time, a little more solid. Jess looked around for her, searching. She came up short when she realized where she was. What had happened to the hotel?

They were back in the little Canton cemetery, and her mom was sitting on her own tombstone, watching Jess with a sad, understanding smile. “It's okay, baby. Don't worry. I'm not a ghost or anything—well, not really.”

Jess swallowed. She heard a funny clicking sound when she did it. “How do you know you're not a ghost?”

Leanne laughed. The sound was so familiar, so missed, that it made tears sting Jess's eyes. “I'd know, baby. I'm not haunting you, and I'm not trapped here. I just…I'm worried, baby. You're this close to finding it. Don't let it get away.”

Confused, Jess shook her head. “Finding what? The only thing I've been looking for is the guys who killed Randi, and I found them. They're going to pay.”

“I'm not talking about finding justice—or vengeance—but
life
. You put your life on hold when your father and I left you. Everything you did was for Randi. I'm so proud of what you did for her, but it's time to let her go. Time for you to live. You're so close, Jess. Is it worth losing the rest of your life over?”

Jess licked her lips. “You're not making any sense, Mom. I'm not going to die. Vax won't let that happen—he's a good man. Strong.”

Leanne laughed softly. “Yeah, I know. I wondered if you did. He's it, Jess. Find him. Save him.”

“Save him?” But Leanne was gone. Jess turned around, looking for her. “Mom? Mom?”

The only answer was a distant, faint voice. But it wasn't her mom.

Wake up, Jess. Come on, damn it—what the hell did he do?

 

K
ELSEY
sat back on her heels and covered her face.

“Damn it, what did he do?”

Malachi peered over her shoulder and looked down at Jess's still, immobile features. “I would say that he made her sleep like the very devil.”

“Yeah, but the question is,
why?
And
how
? Yeah, Empathy can be used to make somebody sleep—I've done it before—but it shouldn't be that hard to wake the person up. He didn't tell me a damn thing about what was going on, either. How are we supposed to help if we don't know what in the hell we're supposed to do?”

She fisted a hand in her hair and tugged a little, the gesture habitual. She reached out and tapped Jess on the cheek. Then she jerked back her hand and hissed under her breath. There was a huge well of pain inside Jessica Warren.

“I need more light.”

She heard a couple of clicks as her husband moved through the room and turned on every lamp. “Kelsey.”

“Not now,” Kelsey said as she laid her palms alongside Jess's head.

“Yes, now. It would appear we do not have much time.”

Her head whipped around, and she glared over her shoulder at Mal. “Then stop…” But her voice trailed off as she saw the note he held in his hand. She sighed and stood up. Foreboding settled in her belly like a hunk of lead. She took the note from Mal and read the short, brief sentence.

Tell her that I am sorry.

It wasn't signed. Kelsey recognized the heavy, broad scrawl, though. She had a bad feeling she knew why they'd been charged with passing on the message. “We have to wake her up,” Malachi murmured. “I have a feeling he is in trouble.”

“Vax
is
trouble.” Kelsey laid down the note. Her fingers brushed against the dresser. A chill danced along her spine, followed by a whisper of wind. She turned her head and looked at the mirror. It was wobbly, just barely secured to the dresser. It also had one of the few common spells lying inside it. The foreboding only increased when she reached out and touched the mirror.

It was inactive spell, basically the witch's version of an answering machine. She could see Vax's face and hear his voice, but it was just an echo. She could talk to the mirror all she wanted, but it wasn't him.

That didn't stop her, though. “Vax, you stupid ass, what are you up to?”

“Kelsey.” His eyes looked sad. “I'm going to assume that worthless husband of yours is around.” He was quiet for a moment. His eyes slid to the side, as though he were looking at something outside his line of vision. “Jess overextended herself. She'll need to be healed before you can wake her up. She'll tell you where I am. I couldn't wait.”

Kelsey snarled. “You could have
not
hidden your trail from me. I could have followed.”

Almost as if he had anticipated her comment when he left the message spell, Vax smiled faintly. “You're probably gritting your teeth and wondering why I've wiped the trail clean, but it's to protect her. If you can follow me, so could somebody else. This way she's safe. Keep her that way.”

He opened his mouth once more, but then he just closed it. Her eyes stared into his. Kelsey had the weirdest sensation that he actually could see her. “Bye, Kelsey. Malachi, take care of her.”

As he turned away, fog rolled across the mirror's surface, and when it cleared, the mirror was once again nothing more than a mirror. With the message delivered, the spell was gone, as if it had never even been there.

“That sounded terribly final,” Malachi murmured. He looked over Kelsey's shoulder towards Jess, and his face went grim. “Heal her and wake her up.”

Under her breath, Kelsey said, “That was what I was trying to do.” She crouched by the bed and linked her hands with Jess's. Now she knew why she hadn't been able to wake Jess up. Raw nerve endings, pain, and exhaustion had made it easy for Vax to work his way inside her subconscious—almost like a hypnotist. Once Kelsey had repaired the damage and pain caused when Jess overextended herself, the woman should be able to do the rest on her own.

The exhaustion Kelsey couldn't do much about, but she had a feeling she wouldn't have to.

Done, Kelsey withdrew her hands and sat back. Under her closed lids, Jess's eyes were moving all around. She gave a soft moan. Then she was silent for a moment. When her lashes lifted, her eyes were blank, almost empty. Her forehead wrinkled, and Jess turned her head on the pillow to stare at Kelsey. “What are you doing here? Where's Vax?”

Kelsey glanced over her shoulder at her husband, and then she looked at back at Jess. “I was hoping you could tell us.”

 

W
ALKING
away from her might not have been the hardest thing he'd ever done, but it was pretty damned close. He couldn't quite figure out why. Hell, he'd executed his own wife. Had seen women and children run down. Seen innocent people brutalized in ways that he couldn't describe with simple words. And for some reason, walking away from the bed had been almost impossible. Each step seemed to cause razor-sharp shards to pierce his heart, but it wasn't just the pain. He could handle pain. His body didn't want to leave her—it was as if weights clung to his legs, making each step slow and hesitant.

On his way out the door, he'd paused for just a second. He had looked back and memorized the sight of her.

For the rest of his life, he'd remember how she looked, lying on her back, her head resting on the pillow, face turned towards the door. Her hand had been on the pillow, palm up with her fingers curled in just a little. The rest of his life could probably be measured in hours now, not years.

She had looked peaceful. Safe. And if it was the last thing he did, he was going to make sure she stayed safe. Of course, from where he was standing right now, it was entirely possible that it just might be the last thing he did.

Masters was dead, as well as three more of the grotesquely formed wolf creatures. He'd been the first one Vax encountered on this little trip into hell, and he'd gone down almost too easy. Vax didn't give a damn—he was all for easy right now, considering how outnumbered he was.

He wasn't going to get any more easy ones, though.
You can do this,
he told himself. He had experience behind him, he had his knife, and he had silver nitrate. Enough of it was poison to any werecreature. He just hoped that would hold true for these hybrid creatures, too. After slicing and dicing his way through the gauntlet of fireballs and slashing claws, he had his chance to try.

Luck, God, or both were on his side this time around. He had to use up the only three vials of silver nitrate he had. He broke the seal and on each wolf-creature, he used his knife to cut a big, gaping hole inside them. Plunge the vial inside, jerk his hand out before the healing flesh sealed up around it.

The silver took a minute or so to pump through the body, so healing started pretty quickly. The vials, with their steady drips of poison, ended up sealed inside. The creatures' speedy healing ended up working against them. It had taken exactly seven minutes for the poison to eat away the tissue of the major blood vessels. A smaller dose might not have killed them at all, and it certainly wouldn't have killed them that fast.

Until now, Vax had figured the vials he carried around were overkill. He was glad he hadn't been too concerned with overkill. If he had brought along a dozen, give or take, he might have had a chance at walking out of here alive. Wasn't going to happen, though. He still had four wolves and a vamp to kill.

Masters had been the easy one. Didn't matter that he controlled fire if he didn't have utter and complete control over his magick. Masters had none. If Vax had to hazard a guess, he'd say that anytime Masters had worked to hone his skills, he worked on only one.

Fire wasn't the answer to everything. Self-healing, even the rudimentary skill nearly every witch had, was just as important as fire. Probably more. If Masters had bothered learning to refine the most basic of magicks, he probably could have healed the huge gash Vax had torn in his throat. Instead Masters had lain there bleeding out, too weak to fight back when Vax used his knife to destroy his heart.