Primal Claim (13 page)

X leaned on her arms and rocked against Demetrius’ mouth, moaning when he inserted one finger into her, quickly followed by another. The fire was stoked now and rising rapidly. She held her legs apart, watching him work on her, his hair brushing her inner thighs, his arm the thrusting force behind his fingers and his tongue flicking rapidly.

X let her head fall back as she rocked with him, the moans overtaking her. When the first ripples of orgasm moved through her, Demetrious replaced his tongue with his thumb, bared his fangs and struck her inner thigh.

The intensity of the bite slammed into her and she cried out with the force.

Demetrius withdrew his fangs with her final shudders and straightened, undoing his pants. His impressive size sprang free, he kicked his pants aside and climbed up onto his knees on the table in between her legs.

He was looking greedily at her wet center when she put a heeled foot on his chest, stopping him. His eyes blazed as he looked up to her face.

“Information first, before round two. You know I’m good for it.”

He inhaled sharply, wrapping a fist tightly around her ankle. A fully aroused vampire male in the middle of a feed, not yet released, could be a ferocious predator, but she didn’t care. A deal was a deal.

“She tied herself to the fetus, her intention to always know where it was at and when it was born, become a part of it. Like her failed attempt at mating a couple months ago, she seeks to combine herself with the child,” he finally indulged a portion of the information she was seeking.

Duh, of course Madame G incorporated herself into the conception somehow. That’s what Madame G did.

“How?”

Demetrius shrugged a heavily muscled shoulder. “The easiest way is by blood ritual. All she’d need is a drop, it wouldn’t destroy the genetic material, and would grow when conception was successful.”

“So if they wanted to separate her from the bundle of joy?”

He leaned over her, his head directly above hers, placing a hand by her ear while another held himself steady for entrance. Her foot still rested on his chest, ready to stop any forward motion until she felt her question was adequately answered.

“I really don’t know how they could do it. Vampires and shifters may have started walking the earth at the same time, but they took drastically different paths. One chose the dark, one chose the light. How they can remove her essence would differ with how we could remove it. I don’t imagine the Guardians would place a call into any dark powers asking for advice.”

His fangs were bared, his hand stroking himself, she didn’t have much time.

He surprised her when he continued, “Shifters already have a way to bind to each other. I’m sure any unbinding ceremony would do the trick.”

X’s heart sank. The only way to unbind shifters is death and that was an unacceptable answer in this scenario.

“Why does Madame G want a baby?” she risked one final question.

He gave a sharp bark of laughter. “Now, Love. Isn’t that the million dollar question?”

Moving her foot aside, he surged into her. She gave a sharp gasp at the sudden fullness. Demetrius began his rhythm, his powerful buttocks clenching and undulating to move inside of her. X brought her knees higher, resting the points of her black heels into his butt cheeks, knowing he liked the jabs of pain.

Demetrius groaned, leaning his head down to lick at her neck.

“Just take your drink,” she got out between pants. His thrusts were increasing in strength so she reached out to hang on to the edges of the heavy table. It was only temporary, once he bit, her body staying on this table would be at his discretion.

“Not ready yet.” She could feel him smiling against her neck, smug bastard, his fangs scraping her super sensitive skin. He kept up his pounding rhythm, and right before he struck, he moved his hand between them to rub her clitoris, sending her over the edge.

Fangs sunk deeply into her vein. Waves of pleasure rolled over, continuously. X shut her mind off after cursing her genetic makeup, dropped her legs to the table, and let go. She was held in place by Demetrius at her neck, while his frantic pumping kept her orgasm going. As long as he fed, she’d continue coming.

Skin slapping skin and Demetrius’ grunts were all that could be heard until he released her, threw his head back, and roared. Veins popped out of his neck and shoulders as he strained against her, she could feel him convulsing deeply, emptying himself inside her tight channel. Unfortunately, that was another necessity of this transaction. She needed people to know who she was with, needed them to smell Demetrius on her, or they’d start thinking she’d gotten chaste, and chaste equaled rebellion in Madame G’s world. To dominate another’s body was the gateway to complete mind control.

His sides still heaving, he hung his head above her. Her own fangs had slid down, they weren’t always at the ready like a vampire’s, thankfully, and she watched a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his neck and hover over the pulse point, beating at a rapid rate. Her tongue swirled over one fang as she eyed his vein. She wouldn’t do it. Couldn’t. She might have a small measure of respect for him, trust him slightly with the content of their information exchange, but she’d be stupid to trust him with who and what she really was.
That
was her only trump card. The only thing that could possibly make her suicide mission successful. Instead, she pushed lightly at his chest.

When he withdrew and climbed off the table, she sat up and did the same, donning her trench coat while he climbed into his pants.

“Good game,” she said heading to the door.

“Anytime, Love. I enjoy our negotiations.” He walked her to the door. She noticed he couldn’t help but being a gentlemen at times. “Tell me X.”

She turned to face him.

“Where do you go in your head when we’re together?”

A small, sad smile lifted the corners of her mouth and she walked away.

Commander Rhys Fitzsimmons weaved through the club, techno dance music pounding in his chest. He was out searching for Agents or recruits to torture for information when he smelled her and whenever he smelled her, it meant trouble.

“Wanna dance?” an eager, not so young anymore, woman asked. He regarded her with the same impassive expression he used on everyone. She gave him what was meant to be coy smile and sashayed away.

That scent. Anger coiled in his gut. He knew that specific scent of that female. He’d only smelled it a couple of times before. Rhys wove his way through the people until he reached the single bathroom in time to see a tall, dark figure disappear inside.

Bursting through the door on Demetrius’ coattails, Rhys shoved the powerful vampire against the wall. A woman shrieked and cowered in the corner next to the toilet.

“Why, Commander, to what do I owe the honor?” Demetrius asked, completely unruffled by being held against the wall by his throat.

“What the fuck are you up to Demetrius?”

“Now, now. I know how your kind tries not to draw attention to themselves. I’m just here, enjoying a good dance. I had the brunt of my aggression
squeezed
out of me earlier, leaving me free to partake of the more delicate goodies here.”

Rhys glared at Demetrius, rage boiling over, squeezing the vampire’s throat harder. The woman cowering behind him continued to whimper. Unable to speak, and knowing he wouldn’t be killed in public in front of witnesses, Demetrius allowed the commander to release some aggression.

With a snarl, Rhys released the infuriating creature and turned to go.

“It’s the games we play to stay alive, Commander,” Demetrius said almost wanting to comfort the distraught Guardian.

“One day, Demetrius, I will find out exactly what you’re up to and you will pay.”

“I look forward to it,” Demetrius replied glibly as Rhys marched out the door looking for the woman who approached him earlier.

He found her drinking alone at the bar, scanning the crowd for more lonely males.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him heading her way. Putting her drink down and straightening her clothes, she gave him what was meant to be her most winning smile.

“I want to dance,” he told her.

Almost shyly, she took his hand and followed him to an empty bathroom next to where Demetrius was successfully taking his female’s mind off the confrontation.

“I don’t usually do this,” she admitted.

Riiight. Except he kind of believed her. She smacked of loneliness. He would know.

He closed them in the dark room and pinned her against the wall, smashing her mouth with his. His lonely woman was taken my surprise, but quickly returned his kiss with enthusiasm. When he did nothing else, just kiss her, she tentatively reached for his fly, fumbling with the buckles.

Rhys reared back. What was she doing? She’d find nothing there worth her time. He remained limp, whether through anger or the woman he was with, it didn’t matter. He had to stop and think.

“Sorry, ah...I can’t,” he admitted.

“It’s all right,” she breathed, rubbing against him. “I can work on you first, if you need it.”

When she dropped her knees and went back to his crotch, he batted her away.

“I need to go.” He walked out, leaving the bewildered woman alone.

Leaving through the back exit, not even the dealers and the smokers loitering in the dimly-lit lot attempted to mess with Rhys. The cloud of confusion and anger and menace warning them he was best left alone.

This thing with that shifter. The last time he turned to other women when he smelled X on that male, it made him feel empty and sick inside. A random fuck would do him no good and it would do the frustrating Agent no good. Whatever she was up to kept her loyal to Sigma and he was determined to find out why. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to help her, and goddammit he would, whether she needed it or not. Making himself vulnerable to getting killed while he got a blow job in some yuppie club wasn’t going to help anybody.

He dedicated his life to his species. Now he dedicated it to annihilating Madame G and finding out X’s secrets. Once he was appeased, then he would walk away.

Three weeks. Over three fucking weeks. Dani had been stuck in the prison cell for close to a month.

They tried to drag her back from the woods after she realized screaming for Mercury to come back wasn’t working. Bennett finally grabbed her like a sack of potatoes while she hollered for the massive wolf to come back. He still hadn’t returned.

Three weeks. He’d been gone the entire time. She would’ve sensed his return, even if it was just to his cabin. Instead, she felt empty. And alone. And really bored.

Her new, and probably temporary for only nine months, sixth sense suggested she could leave at any time. Wish the prison cell door would open and voila! There was no point. She was safe in the depths of the lodge and trying to escape would only enforce the Guardians’ suspicions she was guilty.

She explained everything to them, in full detail, no omissions this time. Even they sensed her honesty and sincerity. Then they locked her up.

The small room was like an economy apartment. Her dorm room in college had more amenities, but overall it wasn’t a bad place to be imprisoned. It even had little windows that strategically let in the strongest rays of the day. They may have been put there to torture vampire prisoners, but they were really nice for a human prisoner.

Mason was dead. The shot to his chest was from E’s special “boom stick,” as she heard him call it once. It blew silver-laced ammo designed to make craters in whatever it hit. And it hit Mason square in the chest, blowing his heart into fragments and out through his back.

Mourning over took the lodge and the Guardians, and during the funeral when Dani balanced just right on the edge of her bed rails, she could climb high enough to see the rites of death carried out.

The Guardians had been devastated...sort of. Mason really was an asshole and she’d witnessed enough to know they were at a point where they didn’t know if they could control the male much longer, and what they’d do if they couldn’t. But he was one of them. Maybe at one time he was a decent shifter, and his death reminded them all of their own mortality.

During her interrogation, she’d told them about some of the things Mason said to her that night. Now she hoped they were investigating the former Guardian, not just her.

Today, Kaitlyn brought Dani lunch as she often did. And Dani was grateful. Living as a human most all of her life, unaware of her four-legged half, Kaitlyn ate like a human: carbs, fruit, and veggies. Not just meat and more meat with a chaser of protein and a side of greasy fat like the others. Therefore, when it was her turn to cook, she fed the other Guardians more well-rounded meals than they'd seen in centuries. While the big males might grumble and complain about "shit like quinoa," Dani ate like she'd been starved whether there was "fucking granola" fare like homemade hummus with whole wheat pita chips, or rare beef roast.

After sliding the tray through the bottom slot in the door, Kaitlyn folded herself gracefully on the floor facing Dani through the bars in the door, her chin on her hands, her elbows propped on her crossed legs.

Dani sat with her eats - chicken nachos with extra sour cream. She could hear the man-bitching now. Chicken was almost a swear word at the lodge, but the shifters were coming around. They'd never admit it now, but their human taste buds were waking up to flavors other than charred beef and pork.

Trying not to shovel in chip after loaded chip, she chewed a mouthful and raised an eyebrow at the beautiful redhead across from her.

"He's still not back," Kaitlyn announced abruptly.

Dani nodded thoughtfully, expecting as much.

The beautiful redhead narrowed her eyes slightly on Dani before saying, "Bennett's been down to Pale Moonlight looking for him."

Dani quit chewing, murderous rage roared up from her belly, pounding in her ears.

"And?" she bit out around her mouthful, glaring at the female. She heard books sliding off her nightstand and hitting the floor. One even flew across the room and hit the wall.