Savage Hunger: Savage, Book 1 (8 page)

Warrick closed his eyes and bit back a groan.
Thanks for trying to cover my ass, baby, but it ain’t gonna fly.

“Really.” Larson turned and looked at her, his smile hard and humorless. “At four in the morning?”

“Oh, is that the time? I honestly didn’t even notice—”

“Miss Peters, I’m sure you get through life quite nicely by charming the boys with that pretty face of yours, but let me save you some time. I’m allergic to bullshit.”

Warrick’s lips twitched at Sienna’s choked gasp. Her nails dug into his arm as she clung tighter to him. He’d warned her. It was Sienna’s fault for not listening.

Nathan Larson made no pretense of being anything but brutally straightforward and it worked for him.

Sliding his arm around Sienna’s waist, Warrick gave her a small smile. “I’ll take her back inside.”

“Do that. And when you’re done, meet me in the front room. We need to talk.”

Now didn’t that just sound ominous.

Sienna struggled to keep up as he rushed her away from Larson. She glanced over her shoulder at the agent and muttered something under her breath.

“Just don’t say anything until you’re back in the room,” Warrick bit out tersely before she could say anything more damaging.

“Why? It’s not like he can hear me anymore.”

His lips twisted and he grunted in response. Larson showing up had been piss-poor timing. And Warrick couldn’t be more grateful. Maybe he didn’t appreciate getting his ass handed to him on a platter, but it beat the hell out of what could’ve happened. What would’ve happened if he’d kissed Sienna.

Warrick’s gut clenched and he led her into the house. Once they were back in the bedroom, he shut the door firmly and turned to face her.

Sienna, apparently, was ready for a verbal showdown. Standing in front of the bed, she leveled a furious glare at him.

“You’re treating me like I’ve committed a crime.”

“I’m not sure that you haven’t, Sienna.” Which made it even more depraved that all he could think about was what she’d feel like naked beneath him. “I’m going to go out there to talk to Agent Larson, so don’t even think about leaving this room, do you understand me?”

“I’m not promising—”

“Dammit. Do
not
push me, Sienna
.
” He advanced on her and gripped her arms. “Get your butt in bed. I don’t care if you sleep or just sit there with your eyes closed. You move a muscle and so help me God I will tie you down.”

Her eyes widened and a flush of pink stained her cheeks. Oh hell. He tried to stop them, but his mind flickered with all kinds of images that were nowhere near appropriate.

The pads of his fingers seemed to tingle where he touched her skin. He glanced down in dismay, thought he saw a glow between them, and jerked his hands away. What the fuck? Dammit, he needed to get some sleep.

“Go to bed,” he rasped and turned toward the door.

“What’s with you, Warrick?” she called after him, her voice not quite steady either. “Agent Larson says ‘jump’ and you say ‘how high?’”

His lips twitched. “Something like that. He’s…the commander of this op, Sienna. There’s hierarchy everywhere in life, you should know that.”

Reaching the door, he hesitated when she asked, “What was he even doing outside this time of night?”

“I don’t really know and it’s not my business anyway. So drop it.” He glanced back at her, staring her down hard until she looked away. “No more problems, Sienna.”

Warrick turned and left. Out in the living room he muttered a curse when he saw not only Larson waiting for him, but Agents Hilliard and Rafferty as well.

“Sorry, guys. We wake you up?” He sighed and leaned against the wall near the entryway.

“Kind of hard to sleep with you two carrying on.” Hilliard yawned and scrubbed a hand down his face. “You get her under control?”

Hardly.
“She’s back in bed now.”

Rafferty chuckled from where he sat on the couch. “Well, good to know someone is. But no worries, sleep is overrated.”

“She forgot this outside.”

Warrick glanced up, then whipped his hand out to intercept the black cell phone that Larson had thrown toward his face.

Larson crossed the room to look out the window. “Just how much does she know, Donovan?”

“I don’t think she knows much. She knows about the P.I.A.,” Warrick admitted after a moment’s hesitation. “There was really no way to keep that from her after we intercepted her at the lab.”

“No. I don’t suppose there was.” Larson turned and stared at him. “I want you to question her in the morning. Extensively. Find out how she learned of the shifters’ existence and just how involved she is with the ones that are out in the barn.”

“I intend to.”

Larson nodded and turned to look at the other agents. “There’s not long until dawn and I’m sure the shifters in the barn are going to be waking up soon. I’ll stay up the rest of the night with Hilliard. Rafferty and Donovan can try and get some sleep. We’ll have to take shifts.”

Warrick bristled, but didn’t protest. Damn. Sleep was just about the last thing on his mind. The idea of trying to go back to bed after the past few hours was not settling well, but he knew better than to argue. Couldn’t really argue, because Larson was right. With their sleep schedules all out of whack, it was definitely going to be a catch-a-few-hours-when-you-can situation.

He turned to head back to his room, when Larson called out, “Before you do, Donovan. We need to have that talk. Alone. Outside.”

With a short nod, Warrick moved past Larson and out the front door again.

Standing on the wood porch in the night air, he inhaled slowly and looked out at the shadows of the trees surrounding them. It was still pretty warm for this late in the evening—or early morning, really. But then the temperature wasn’t surprising with the heat wave that had been rocking the state for the past couple of days.

The door opened behind him, then closed with a soft click. He listened to the soft creak of the porch under Larson’s footsteps as the other man came to stand beside him.

“How you holding up, Donovan?”

“Just fine.”
Cut the small talk, Larson, I know you way too well for that.

“So you and Sienna,” Larson began. “You kind of grew up together, didn’t you?”

The muscles in Warrick’s shoulders bunched as he attempted a casual shrug. Damn, maybe small talk would’ve been better. He could see pretty clearly where this was going to head.

“We were neighbors growing up. Her brother’s one of my closest friends…and you know who her father is.”

“Yes. I do know that.” Larson nodded and thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans he’d obviously changed into. “What I don’t know is if this is going to emotionally compromise you.”

No. He definitely didn’t want to have this conversation. “It won’t. Sienna is nothing but an old friend to me.”

Larson strode to the end of the porch and leaned his arm on the railing. Silent for a moment. Then, “Even the friend part worries me. Already she’s a candidate for having her—”

“Memory wiped?” Warrick snarled and moved to stand next to his friend. “You think I haven’t thought about that from the moment we picked her up?”

“We had no choice but to take her. She was there with the shifters. Whether you like the fact or not, she’s involved somehow.”

She was. He knew she was. And it made his gut twist around like a damned pretzel. He could only protect Sienna so much. If she was a part of what was being done to those shifters—

“They may not wipe her,” Larson added gruffly. “Because of who her father is. Have you contacted him about any of this?”

“I haven’t had a chance.” But that wasn’t a bad idea.

“You will tomorrow though.” It wasn’t a request.

“Of course.”

“All right.” Larson nodded. “You’re a damn good agent, Donovan. Just make sure your priorities stay in place. Your first concern is for those guys in the barn, not some chick you want to tag.”

Hot anger simmered in Warrick’s gut. His fingers curled into his palms, the nails digging into his flesh. He gave himself a few seconds to calm himself.

Even that wasn’t enough to keep him from grating out, “I’ve never put a woman above my job. It’s kind of fucked up that you’d imply otherwise.”

“I’m not implying anything and you know it. We already had this conversation, Warrick. My comment was a reminder that you’d better damn well heed. I’m not stupid. I see the way you look at her.”

Was he that fucking obvious? Dammit.

Warrick forced a small nod, knowing he’d gotten off easy with Larson’s terse response. Had they been around the other agents he’d have gotten an ass reaming for his blatant insubordination. But they were alone, and he knew this conversation wasn’t meant as a dressing-down by his superior. It was Larson talking to him as a friend, reminding him not to screw up.

“Go to bed.” Larson gripped his shoulder and gave a hard squeeze, before turning back toward the house. “We’ll figure out the rest of the shit in the morning. You’re going to need some sleep.”

The porch creaked again as Larson left.

A moment later, Warrick turned and slipped silently back into the house as well.

Those birds need to shut the hell up
.

Sienna groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. Every muscle ached and her head was pounding something fierce. Sleep tugged at her consciousness trying to suck her back into oblivion and away from the light pouring through her curtains.

She needed to get up and make coffee. That always helped wake her—
shit
.

Bolting upright, Sienna gripped the sheet and made a gurgle of dismay. Reality had hit her with all the grace of a sumo wrestler doing ballet.

A quick glance beside her showed she was alone in bed.
Where was Warrick?

Biting her lip, she scooted out from the sheets and tugged the T-shirt she was wearing farther down her legs.

On her hands and knees, she crawled as quietly as possible toward the end of the bed to peek over the edge.

“Morning.”

Crap!

Scurrying backward and away from Warrick’s amused gaze, she grabbed the sheet and wrapped it over her naked legs.

Oh God. How on earth had she forgotten everything that had happened last night? She closed her eyes, but it was all there. All the little details from the moment she’d snuck away from the gala, to the point where Warrick had banished her back to the bedroom like she was a toddler.

“You hungry?”

His question wasn’t exactly sexy, but something about the hint of sleepiness in Warrick’s slow drawl, combined with that deep timber, sent a shiver of awareness through her.

“I’m…a little I suppose.” What time was it? There wasn’t a clock anywhere nearby, so she glanced toward the window and found it bright and sunny beyond the lace curtains.

“We probably should get up. Got a busy day ahead of us.”

There was shuffling on the ground before his tall frame unfurled from the floor at the end of the bed. She swallowed hard at the sight of his naked torso—the way the muscles in his shoulders bunched when he stretched his arms above his head and yawned.

She had the ridiculous urge to shuffle to the end of the bed and rise on her knees, wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face against his chest. Press her cheek to those ripped pectoral muscles and breathe in the scent of him. Of Warrick.

She knew exactly how he’d smell. That spicy soap he used…or cologne. Whichever it was, Warrick was a creature of habit. He’d been wearing the same scent last night when he’d tackled her that he’d worn the night of her prom. She’d never forgotten the way Warrick smelled.

Or how it felt to be in his arms…

“Sienna?”

She blinked, her cheeks warming as she realized he’d said something. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I offered you the first shower.”

“Oh. Right.” A shower sounded pretty fantastic. “That would be great, thanks.” She hesitated, her pride making her want to avoid asking for anything from him or the other agents. But there was no getting around it. “I don’t suppose you could round up some coffee?”

Warrick let loose a low laugh as he rubbed a hand across his chest. “Sienna, these boys practically keep that stuff on an IV drip. When you’re ready, there’ll be coffee strong enough to make your toes curl.”

Hmm. Her toes were already curling of their own accord beneath the sheet. Being this close to a half-naked Warrick was doing ridiculous things to her brain…to her body.

“I’ll just, uh, go grab that shower.” God, she wished her voice didn’t sound so husky.

Sliding out of bed, she winced and resisted the urge to drag the sheet off the bed and wrap it around her waist. The shirt revealed a lot more leg than it hid.

Warrick’s gaze slid over her, his eyes narrowing and his nostrils flaring. She watched his chest expand before he jerked his gaze away from her and turned toward the door.

“Let me know when you’re done. I’ll go check out what we’ve got to eat around here.”