Master of Wolves (9 page)

Jim throttled back on his desperate lust. He had to take his time, make sure she found the same pleasure he did. Gently, he cupped her, thumbed a nipple. Listened as she inhaled in need.

Dying to sample her, he lowered his head and took the nearest taut peak into his mouth. The taste of her exploded in his senses, making him shudder at the stark pleasure. His dick jerked again. Ignoring it, he licked her tenderly, teasing out a soft gasp. God, she tasted so good. Felt so good.

When he cupped her other breast, his hand shook.

Despite the savage need to plunge into her, he concentrated all his attention on making her as hot as he could. Closing his teeth over a hard nipple, he raked the tiny peak gently, savoring the way she squirmed under his hands. Both her hands fisted in his hair, demanding more. Jim gave it to her gladly, stroking and teasing.

Until finally he decided it was time to reach for her zipper.

 

Mindless with the
most intense desire she'd ever known, Faith squirmed as Jim nibbled his way down her belly. He stopped at her navel, swirling his hot tongue around it, dipping suggestively into the little hollow, then ringing it with soft little bites.

“You're making me crazy!” she gasped.

“Good. You've been making me crazy for weeks.”

But he'd been a dog
…. She lost the thought as he nuzzled the open V of her zipper. Big hands slid into her waistband, pushed her uniform pants down her hips. With a sudden, hungry growl, he sat up, stripped his shirt off in an impatient jerk, and threw it aside.

Then he went to work on her pants.

Dazed, she watched him, admiring the way all the gleaming muscle of his shoulders shifted and worked in the moonlight. His body was truly beautiful, sculpted and tight, dusted in soft hair.

He growled in frustration, but her stubborn pants were caught around her thighs and refused to come off.

“Shoes,” she reminded him breathlessly, then sat up to dispense with them herself.

With a triumphant rumble, Jim stripped her pants off at last, leaving her in nothing but socks and panties. The panties quickly fell victim to his warm, demanding hands as he settled between her thighs. She rolled her hips upward, pleading.

His tongue flicked out, licked at her outer lips. She groaned. “God, London…”

“Jim,” he growled, and spread her with two fingers.

She almost catapulted off the leaves when he found her most delicate flesh and began to feast, licking, flicking, sucking. Driving her sweetly insane. One finger discovered her opening and delved inside, feeling thick and impossibly carnal.

“God,” she whimpered.

“Tight.” Anticipation roughened the word. He locked his mouth over her clit and suckled. Pleasure shot through her in spikes.

She shouted. “Yeah, oh, yeah! Jim!”

His only answer came in long, luscious suckles and tempting little bites, creating a storm of hot sensation that soon had her writhing.

The climax took her by surprise. She'd always taken so long with her ex-husband, but Jim drove her to her peak with merciless speed. Her hips rocked as she arched in the leaves, crying out, flying.

 

When the storm
of pleasure passed, Faith collapsed, panting and sated, her muscles twitching in the aftermath of the ferocious pleasure.

Breathing hard, Jim sat up between her thighs. His zipper hissed, and leaves rustled as he wrestled off his pants. His scent filled her senses, feral and delicious.

She looked down to watch him as he sat up and ripped open a foil packet. “Where'd you get that?”

“Your bathroom. Put it in a pocket.” His grin flashed, hot with triumph and anticipation. “I'm an optimistic kind of guy.”

Then he covered her, his eyes blazing under the dark shelf of his brows. His mouth was wet with her juices.

She lifted her head to look down their bodies. His cock was deliciously long, its width impressive as he aimed it for her hungry core.

His entry tore a shout of pleasure from her mouth. Throwing her head back, she curled her legs around his bare, muscular ass as he worked his way inside, inch by silken inch. “God,” Jim growled. “You feel so damned good.”

“So do you,” she groaned, grinding upward to get more of that amazing shaft. It filled her so perfectly, satin and steel, the solid embodiment of pleasure.

Ron had never felt anything like that.

He braced his powerful arms on either side of her head and began to thrust in slow, deep pumps that made her eyes roll back in her head.

“Faith,” he chanted. “Faith, Faith, God. Merlin's beard…”

Dazed, she watched him tilt his head up toward the moon, eyes closed. She couldn't remember Ron ever looking that joyous when they'd made love.

She forced her attention away from those unwelcome memories to concentrated on the raw sensations that thick cock created as Jim rocked in and out, circling his hips to grind deliciously down on her clit.

“Good,” she whimpered. “So good. So hard…”

“Yeah!” He picked up the pace, lunging hard against her, each powerful stroke sending bursts of white-hot pleasure up her spine. “You feel so tight!”

Just like that, she tilted over into fire. Faith cried out, writhing.

Jim bucked against her hard, grinding deep in merciless plunges that ground her back into the leaves. She didn't care, too lost in the endless pulses of her climax.

Until he stiffened with a roar, throwing his handsome head back. Limp with pleasure, she watched his orgasm blind him, moonlight painting the perfect masculine angles of his face.

No, Ron had never looked like that.

His arms shaking, Jim collapsed over Faith, then rolled onto his back, pulling her atop his chest. His heart thundered with the aftermath of the brain-storming pleasure she'd given him. Sweating, panting, he scarcely felt the leaves prickling his bare back. All his senses were focused on her—the sweet weight of her body, the luscious female musk of her skin, the damp red silk of her hair tickling his chest.

Damn, he loved her. If he'd had any doubts, they were gone now.

But he still hadn't won her.

On the other hand, he'd taken the first step. That was enough, at least for tonight.

The rest—including rogue werewolves and psychotic vampires—he'd deal with later. All Jim wanted for now was to be with her.

They lay still, wrapped in one another's arms as they regained their breath. All too soon, Faith stirred in his arms and lifted her head. “Man.” She blinked down at him, discomfort flickering in her eyes. It had probably hit her she'd made love to a man she didn't even know.

So much for basking in the afterglow,
Jim thought, resigned. He really wasn't surprised, though. Faith never did anything the easy way.

“We'd…better get back.” Her gaze shifted from his. “We've got bad guys to deal with…shit!” She sat up and started looking around for her uniform. “That bald guy. The bitch probably killed him just like the others.”

“Probably.” Jim sat up and rolled onto his side, bracing on an elbow as he watched her search the clearing. “Faith, he had an upside down pentagram tattooed on his forehead. It's safe to say he wasn't on the side of the angels. And neither were his buddies.”

“That's not the point.” She found her panties and paused to pick the leaves off them before putting them on. “Even assholes don't deserve to be murdered.”

“Yeah, but there wasn't much we could do about it. Most of them were dead when we got there, and then we were under fire. Besides which, you did get bitten trying to save him. I think you've done your part for justice.”

“Not yet. Not until Reynolds and the bitch are behind bars.” She pulled her underwear on, then dragged her bra down to cover her pretty breasts. “What did you do with my T-shirt?”

He winced and picked up a scrap of black fabric—all that remained of it. “'Fraid that's a lost cause.”

Faith grimaced at the rag. “Okay, guess I'll wear the vest without it.” She looked around for her body armor.

Jim found it lying under his left knee and handed it over. He helped her strap it on, then started putting himself back in order as she put on her uniform shirt. “So what do you have in mind for a next move?”

“Get back to the scene. Call it in.” Faith picked up her holster and buckled it around her slim hips. “Then figure out what to tell that asshole detective. Who, I don't doubt, is going to be just as obstructionist as he's been every other time.”

Jim zipped his pants. She wasn't going to like what he had to tell her next. “You do know there's a reason for that, right?”

She frowned at him. “You think he's involved?”

“Yeah, actually, but that's beside the point.” Jim found his shoes and slid his feet into them. “Faith, the woman is a witch. You saw the way she was throwing magic around. Do you really think the city jail is going to hold her?”

She braced her fists on her hips and glowered at him. “What do you suggest?”

“What I had in mind all along. I'm going to kill her.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” He buckled his belt with a jerk and glanced at her. He bit back a curse. She looked as if he'd slapped her. “Faith, we're not dealing with an ordinary human being here. She's a
vampire
. Reynolds is a werewolf. The system is not equipped to deal with either of them.”

Faith dragged a leaf out of her hair and frowned at it absently. “I thought you said she was a witch.”

“She is. She's also a vampire. Which makes her about ten times stronger than a human being, even aside from her ability to throw death spells. You don't put
that
in jail.”

She threw the leaf aside and braced her fists on her hips, glowering at him. “So you're saying we should just murder her in cold blood?”

“I seriously doubt it's going to be that damned easy. We'll be lucky if we can get her before she gets us.”

“There's got to be some alternative to…” Faith's hand fell to her holster. She swore, finding it empty. “Where's my weapon?”

“Good question. I think I had it.” Jim looked around and spotted it in the pile of leaves where he'd dropped it after he'd put Faith down. He retrieved it and handed it over.

“Thank you.” Faith holstered it, snapped the strap across it, then turned on her heel to stalk off. She stopped to shoot him a glittering look over her shoulder, frustration boiling off her in waves that were almost visible. “Which way did we come?”

He sighed and stepped past her. “Come on.”

Leading the way through the woods, Jim tried to decide how to break the really bad news to her—that most of the police department was involved. Trouble was, there was no easy way to tell her except to just come out with it. He turned to her. “Faith, I've got something to tell you.”

Faith listened in
growing horror as he laid out accusation after accusation against the Clarkston police department. Finally she could take no more. “No. I don't believe it.”

“Look, I know how hard this is for you to accept, but—”

“London, you're off base. Period. I could believe Reynolds, even the chief—he's always seemed oily to me—but the whole department? Impossible. All those cops can't be dirty.”

Jim stopped walking and turned to face her. His gaze was level with certainty. “They're under some kind of spell, Faith. I can smell it on them. It's very distinctive—smells like something rotting.”

“So if there's a spell, we break it.
If.
I don't think there is.” But even as she denied the possibility, something in the back of her mind whispered that maybe he was right.

There'd been something off about the way Detective Taylor had blown off her report about the woman near Shay's cell. Then there was his insistence that drug dealers had turned a rottweiler loose on Cruise, a theory that had seemed far-fetched from the first. Admittedly, it was a more believable idea than the truth—a seven-foot werewolf with a grudge—but still.

Then there was the attitude she'd been getting from the men on her shift. Their increasing hostility had made her feel like an outsider for weeks now, though they'd welcomed her when she'd first joined the department.

“What kind of ‘spell' are we talking about?” Faith grimaced as she said it. Spells, werewolves, witches—her life had dived straight into the Twilight Zone. She'd always prided herself on being a hardheaded, practical cop. All this stuff made her cringe.

She could just imagine what her dad and brothers would say. She'd never hear the end of it—assuming she was ever stupid enough to tell them. What was she going to say?
“Hi, Dad. I was bitten by a werewolf, and now I'm seven feet tall and fuzzy.”

She didn't think so.

Jim shrugged. “I have no idea what kind of spell she's using.” He sounded so damn casual about it all, too, as if magic and witches were as routine to him as speeding tickets and drunk drivers. “I'm pretty sure she's feeding on them, but she could have warped their thinking, too.”

“Feeding on them? As in drinking their blood?” Faith remembered how gray everyone had looked during roll call. “I'd thought the guys on my shift looked a little anemic. Do you think she—?”

He lifted his head. “Shh.”

She stilled and listened. The wind shifted, bringing the sound of male voices from somewhere up ahead.

Magic ruffled across her skin as Jim transformed into his Dire Wolf form. He jerked his head in a “follow me” gesture and slunk off through the woods toward the voices.

Faith hesitated, wondering if she should change, too, then decided against it. Better not attempt something that tricky in the middle of a potentially dangerous situation. She hurried after him, trying to move as quietly as she could.

“…not comfortable with this, chief,” one man said. “Are you sure this is necessary?”

Faith frowned and craned her neck, trying to see through the screening trees. That sounded like Gary Morrow.

“Celestine told me to pick her up and bring her in,” Chief Ayers replied, his voice carrying plainly on the wind. “And considering that Reynolds just bit her, we need all the firepower we can get.”

“You think she's already turned into a werewolf?” Sergeant Randy Young asked. He sounded nerved up and jumpy at the very idea.

“Reynolds Changed within an hour of Shay's biting him.”

At that confirmation of his suspicions, Jim shot her a grim look over his shoulder.

Detective Taylor grunted. “Scared the shit out of me.”

The chief laughed, the sound a bit nasty. “Scared Celestine, too, considering she was fucking him at the time.”

Faith frowned. Celestine must be the witch. Wait—she'd banged Reynolds with Frank and the chief watching?

Jim sank into a crouch and worked his way closer to the roadside, moving with surprising silence for somebody that big. Faith hunkered low and slipped after him, placing her feet carefully. Good thing her brothers had insisted on taking her hunting so often when she was a kid. She'd learned how to move quietly in the woods before she'd even hit puberty. This wasn't the first time in her law enforcement career the skill had come in handy.

They rounded a strand of trees to see the group standing by the side of the road. Faith's brows lifted.

The chief was apparently treating this like a major operation. Patrol cars were parked up and down the street, and she counted thirty cops standing around in body armor. Every man in the department was in on the hunt. It looked like London was right. They were all involved.

Faith felt sick.

Ahead of her, Jim slipped toward the group like a cat creeping up on a flock of pigeons. Faith sank lower as she moved after him. It helped that they were downwind of the bastards. The breeze would help carry the sound away.

A branch snapped behind them.

Jim whirled, snarling—and jerked, his back arching, arms flying wide, before toppling with a crash like a furry seven-foot tree. Faith whirled to see Frank Granger standing behind them, a TASER in his hand.

It had been a trap, she realized. Even as they'd crept up on the cops from downwind, Granger had been sneaking up on them. The breeze had carried away both his scent and the sound of his passage.

“You really should have kept your nose out of this, Weston,” he told her with a tight, cold smile. He lifted his voice. “I got the male!”

Faith snarled, going for her gun as bodies started crashing through the brush behind them. “You son of a—”

Before the weapon cleared her holster, something stung her neck.
Oh, hell
, she thought, recognizing the bite of TASER probes.

Lightning struck with a searing wash of pain. Every muscle in her body spasmed as she went down hard, unable to scream, unable to breathe. Her body wouldn't obey, caught in the searing electric shock.

Her gaze darkened, and the Something she'd sensed winked out.
Magic's gone,
she realized in despair.
I've lost it…

Jim tried to reel to his feet, only to jerk as dozens of wires hissed through the air, their hooks catching in fur and flesh. He went down as if somebody had smashed him in the head with a baseball bat. Every cop in the mob must have TASERed him. Even big as he was, he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

Paralyzed, her body still twitching helplessly, Faith could only concentrate on breathing as booted feet surrounded her. From the corner of one eye, she saw Jim's dark-furred arm shimmer pale again. He'd returned to human form as his magic was disrupted.

“Guess she's not a werewolf after all,” Taylor said.

“This one is.” There was a thud and muffled grunt as somebody kicked Jim in the ribs. “As many times as we hit him, he won't be able to change back until it's too damn late to do him any good.”

“What about Weston?” Morrow asked, sounding uneasy.

“What about her?” Ayers demanded, cold as an ice cube and twice as hard.

“It's one thing to give the witch some junkie or out-of-town asshole, but Weston is one of us.”

Like hell,
Faith thought, furious.
I want nothing to do with you bastards.

“Not anymore. Look, I don't like it, either, but we don't have a choice. You think she's going to turn a blind eye to this, especially after this one turns up with his heart cut out? She's too noble.” Scorn dripped from the last word.

“Fuck you,” Faith croaked. Not smart, but at least her vocal chords were working again.

“Juice her again,” Ayers snapped.

Another silent, agonizing jolt surged through her body.

“Dammit, Taylor, cut it out,” Morrow growled. To Ayers he added, “Are we really going to let Celestine sacrifice a cop?”

“Don't be an idiot, Morrow.” The chief's voice rang with impatience. “Think about what we stand to gain. If Celestine gets her hands on that grail, she'll make us all immortal. We'll never have to worry about getting sick or dying, and neither will our wives. Or our kids when they grow up. And we'll be able to keep this town clean of drug dealers and killers. No more worrying about pussy judges and stupid juries. Everybody'll be better off.”

Except anybody you don't like,
Faith thought bitterly.
Or anybody you want to give to your witch as a human sacrifice. Prick.

She spotted the glitter of a TASER probe on her arm. The hook was buried in her skin. If she could just pull it out, they wouldn't be able to juice her again with the remaining probe, since it took two to carry the current. Good thing only Taylor had shot her.

“But we'll be vampires, Chief,” Morrow said. “Not to mention accessories to a cop's murder. I—”

“Look, Gary, you're either with us, or you're against us. Pick one.”

There was a long, uneasy pause. “I'm on board, Frank.” Morrow's voice shook. “I'm one of y'all.”

Ayers cursed. “The werewolf is moving! Light him up again.”

Jim grunted in pain.

Faith winced, fingers twitching. Spotting the motion, she felt a little burst of hope. She could move again! Evidently being a werewolf gave her a faster recovery time along with everything else.

Cautiously, she grabbed the TASER lead and jerked it out of her skin. Her lip curled into a snarl. These assholes were in for a surprise.

“All right, he's done,” the chief said. “Get him cuffed and let's call Reynolds. I want to get this over with.”

She was running out of time. She had to act now, or both of them were going to end up with their hearts cut out.

But what the fuck was she going to
do
? There were twenty cops around her. She didn't have a prayer.

Except…

She could sense the Something again. Her magic was back. If she could only Change, maybe she could get Jim to safety, too. Trouble was, she'd never tried to transform to Dire Wolf form before. She only had one chance to get this right.

Taylor bent over her and flipped her onto her belly. “Okay, Weston, don't give me any trouble now.” A hand grabbed her wrist. “I don't want to have to hurt you.”

“Fuck you!” she snarled, and reached for the magic, picturing Jim's Dire Wolf form. If she failed…

But the magic surged at her call, filling her body in a hot white wave, muscle and bone twisting and growing. The detective let her go and leaped back with a startled yelp.

Faith surged to her feet as the men scattered with shouts of fear.

“Damn! The bitch is a werewolf!”

“TASER her!”

“Chief, the guns are out of juice!”

Faith spotted Jim lying on the ground and jumped for him. Somebody grabbed for her arm, and she swung her fist. The cop went flying like a ping pong ball.

She really
was
strong.

A bullet whined past her head as Faith grabbed Jim by one arm. He jerked toward her as if he weighed no more than a rag doll. TASER leads tore free in a shower of blood drops. Not daring to stop, she slung him across her shoulder, whirled, and shoved past five cops trying to work up the guts to tackle her.

They scattered, shouting and cursing. A gun boomed. Faith ducked and ran faster. More gunfire. Something stung her back, but she kept going. An engine roared, and blue lights flashed.

“Weston, you bitch!” Ayers howled. “You're a dead woman!”

“Gotta catch me first, asshole.” Faith lengthened her stride, bounding for the woods in desperate leaps. She might be fast, but she knew damn well she couldn't outrun a patrol car. Diving between the trees, she ducked low-hanging limbs and dodged through the thick brush with all the speed she could manage. The cops crashed after her, but she quickly left them behind.

Well,
she thought grimly, protecting Jim's head with one hand as she ran.
Guess I'm going to need another job.

But first I'm going to make these bastards pay.

 

Jim hung limp
in her hold, concentrating on breathing as he jarred up and down on her shoulder. His skin stung from all the TASER probes Faith had torn free, but he wasn't about to complain.

At least his muscles had finally started to obey his commands. He'd been gathering his strength and waiting for his magic to return when Faith had transformed and grabbed him. Thinking about it, he supposed it was a good thing the bastards had shot him so many times. They'd used all their weapons' charges on him, so they'd been unable to do anything to stop Faith.

Unfortunately, the mass blast had stripped his magic away even as it paralyzed him.

Guess we know how they overcame Tony now.
If they'd shocked him like they had Jim, it was no wonder he'd accidently infected Reynolds with Merlin's Curse. The electricity disrupted voluntary muscle control. If they'd jolted him while he was biting Reynolds…

Faith slid to a stop and carefully lowered him to the ground. “You okay?”

He shrugged, then grimaced as his sore muscles protested. Even talking hurt. “More or less. Good job on getting us out of there.”

Faith shrugged. “They underestimated me. Made it easier.” Twisting around, she put a hand to the small of her back, then withdrew her fingers. Blood gleamed against the fur. “I can't believe this—the bastards
shot
me.”

He frowned and sat up. “Turn back. It'll heal your injuries.”

Faith nodded shortly and closed her eyes, tensing with effort. Magic shimmered around her, and she shrank back into human form. She opened her eyes again, her expression wary, then sighed in relief. “You're right. The pain's gone.” She crouched beside him, her expression concerned. “How about you? Can you transform yet?”