Seeing Eye Mate (24 page)

Caelan pounded into her. She grunted with each of his thrusts, her breasts bouncing beneath him, and he bent to latch on to one of the nipples with a greedy mouth. Tieran threw her head back and bit her lip.

His balls tightened with every penetration and slapped against her ass. With one last drive, he coated her sheath with spurt after spurt of his seed and sank his teeth into the soft skin above her breast, marking her. He laved the small cuts with his tongue, offering the quick-soothing healing powers found in his saliva. A very faint mark would remain but heal fast, just like those he’d left elsewhere on her body.

Spent, he rolled off, disengaging himself when he wanted to stay buried in her forever, and lay on his back next to her. Or rather, tried to. Their bodies took up the width of the hallway so the doorjamb gouged into his shoulder blade with every hard breath he took.

He turned his head and looked at her, sprawled out, knees still spread far apart and breathing just as harsh as he was. The air was permeated with the scent of their lovemaking. She was absolutely the most beautiful thing on the planet. Caelan linked his fingers through hers.

“You okay?”

“No,” she murmured, alarming him when her eyes scrunched up as if she were in pain.

“Another one?” He levered his body up until he was propped on his elbow and laid his hand on her belly.

“Uh-uh,” she grunted. “Rug burn. On my ass.”

Caelan barked out in laughter, glad to finally have his feisty mate back. “Don’t tempt me to add my handprint to that fine ass of yours.”

“I can’t move.” She groaned, trying to sit up.

Caelan jumped to his feet and pulled Tieran along with him, then held her until she got her bearings back.

“You haven’t gotten out of talking to me, baby.” He turned her towards the bed and sent her walking with a little shove between her shoulders, wincing at the red marks marring the soft skin of her butt. She really did have a bad case.

Caelan scooped up her pants from where she’d tripped over them earlier and handed them to her. “Since I don’t see either of us going back to sleep, take a shower, get dressed again, then come eat. Whether you believe me or not, our baby needs the protein.”

She sagged onto the side of the bed and without looking at him, nodded.

“I’ll go fix us something.”

His head pounded like a drum. Eli groaned and wondered what the hell had happened. Must have been some night if he couldn’t even remember it. Slowly neurons started firing in his brain. Something sharp poked into his cheek where he lay and his shoulders screamed in agony. He tested them to see why they were hurting so much and discovered he couldn’t move them.

What the fuck? His wrists clinked behind him. Handcuffs. He opened his eyes a crack, wincing as an explosive fresh wave of pain took over his head.

“Well look who’s decided to join the party?” The sneer came from a long way off, compounding an already colossal ache.

Eli inhaled. He was face down on the ground, handcuffed. Christ what had happened? Why couldn’t he remember?

“You’re going away for a long time, boy.”

Eli wanted to tell him to fuck off, but didn’t have the energy. He wanted to go back to sleep and had to fight the darkness closing in on him once again. With extreme effort, he forced his lids open. Dancing lights cut through his brain like a knife and Eli slammed his eyes shut.

A pungent smell wafted by his nose, making him gag and flinch to get away from it. The movement caused another dagger of pain to pierce his temple. He peeked again. Slowly the world, which had been dark when he’d gotten here, came into focus. It clearly wasn’t night anymore, but sometime very early morning. A voice shouted, another responded, a short burst of a radio transmission, flashing red and blue lights. One of his eyelids was lifted open and an explosion of light blinded him.

“The son of a bitch is awake, can we go now?”

Eli recognized the voice, but couldn’t place it.

“He needs to be transported to the hospital, Detective.”

Why? Eli’s mind was blank. Besides arriving at the warehouse and getting out of his car, there was nothing else.

“The only transport he’s gonna get is in the back of a squad car.”

Christ. He was being arrested for something and didn’t even know what it was. He tried to roll over. The least he could do was get a better look at who he was dealing with. Maybe then he’d be able see why the dick sounded like he’d be more than happy to be the driver of said squad car.

“Whoa, man. Don’t move until I get this C-collar on.” A hand stopped him from moving.

“Fuck the collar, Pete. Just get him the hell to his feet.”

The man, who he assumed was Pete, stood. Shiny black shoes filled Eli’s vision. Come to think of it, his neck was starting to feel crimped. Whether it was from being in this position for so long or whatever had landed him face down licking the pavement, he didn’t know. If the collar would keep him out of jail for another hour or two, he’d gladly don it. The hospital would at least give him the chance to figure things out.

“And your Lieutenant would screw your balls to the wall for not sticking to procedure. You want to lose him on a technicality?”

Thank you, Pete.
Eli sighed and closed his eyes. They were getting heavier and heavier and now his stomach was starting to churn. Whatever it was that had brought him down, must have been a doozy.

“Besides the fact my name would also go on the report for not doing
my
job.”

“He’s fucking guilty as sin, Pete.”

Jesus, the guy was a hard-ass. He tried to shift off a rock gouging into his left pec but the small movement left him wanting to puke.

“Maybe he is, that’s your business. Mine is EMT and he’s got a concussion the size of Texas. Unless you want him to die before he gets the chance to have his
fair
trial, then you better step back.”

Good thing Pete was on his side. For the moment. Eli had the feeling he’d be facing the wrong side of a jail cell in about five minutes if not for him, and from what he’d heard so far, the detective would probably swallow the key.

“Ricky, let’s get this guy rolled and loaded before he goes out again.”

Pete’s shout had Eli’s head swimming. He wasn’t moving, but it sure felt like he was. The ground beneath him swayed like a waterbed.

“You mind the cuffs, Detective?”

“Yeah I mind. We’ve been hunting this asshole for weeks. No fucking way is he gonna have the chance to get loose.”

“Then hold the goddamn cuff in your hand and clip it to the rail, but I’ve got to roll him to get a better assessment. Do it now!”

There was a grunt above Eli, the distinctive pop of a knee cracking as it bent. His hands were roughly jerked back and up sending another tearing rip of pain through him so that he missed the click of his wrists being released. That did it. He puked.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Damn it. Ricky, get his head and neck,” Pete said in a hurried voice.

Two hands bracketed the base of his head just below his ears, and strong fingers outstretched to wrap securely around his neck. He was rolled quickly. Too fast, and Eli threw up again on the way over.

“Get the backboard,” Pete shouted.

“Unbelievable. Do you think you can play this up any more, Graham? Face it, you fucking got caught.”

A hard surface met Eli’s back and then he was right-side up. A C-collar circled his neck before he could open his eyes. The fucking sleazy bastard. Did he think he’d stuck his fingers down his throat and forced himself to puke? And what had he got caught doing? And where did he know that voice from?

Eli reached up to wipe at something wet on his forehead and heard the cocking of a gun.

“Don’t fucking move, Graham.”

His arm was grabbed and laid back down.

“Easy there, man, I’m just going to start an IV.”

A snap coincided with a sharp tug on his upper arm and a pinprick inside his elbow.

His eyelid was lifted again and he was re-subjected to the penetrating light. When his belly revolted another time, he puffed his cheeks out.

“Shit, he’s going to blow again.”

They rolled him back to the side, this time attached to the board. Only dry heaves wracked his battered body this time. “Stop moving me,” he shouted.

Pete leaned over his now prone form, his hair brushing Eli’s chin. “What was that?”

His shout must not have been quite the shout he’d heard in his head. “No moving,” he said again, gritting his teeth against the pain, the nausea, and the whole idea of the bastard detective standing above them like he was about to grind Eli under the toe of his patent leather shoe.

Pete chuckled. “Just a little more, I promise. We’re going to lift you onto the stretcher and load you into the ambulance.”

“What…happened?” Not a car accident, because Detective Dick Boy wouldn’t be here, the smug tone of arrest lacing his every word.

Eli squinted up at Pete as they lifted him. His face was a mask of concern.

“You don’t know?”

Eli swallowed and shook his head once.

“Not fucking likely, Graham. Nice excuse though, one that’s not gonna fly. What, did you hear us coming and had to come up with something quick? Bash yourself over the head, lay yourself out on the ground and pretend to be a victim?”

The detective leaned over him and whispered so only Eli could hear. “There’s not a fucking thing the Prime can do for you now.”

It was then Eli finally recognized where he’d heard the voice before. The cop was Michael Hayward. One of his own pack. There was a slap of metal on metal and the clinking of the cuff locking in place around a bar beneath the stretcher. Eli’s hand was forced in the same direction.

Eli wondered if he was hallucinating the smug smile he saw on Michael’s face as he hovered there. Obviously, “call Caelan” wouldn’t garner any attention. What the fuck was going on? If he couldn’t trust a shifter from his own pack, who could he trust?

“Back off, Detective. You can meet us there.”

The stretcher rolled and bumped into the ambulance. Bright white lights washed over Eli as he was pushed inside and he wondered if anything else would come shooting out of his stomach again. He slammed his eyes closed and willed his stomach to settle. Inside, he caught the metallic smell of blood. So that’s the wet he felt on his forehead.

Jesus, if only he could remember, he thought, and let the calming blackness surround him.

*

After complaining for an interminable amount of time about his lack of Mountain Dew, Caelan had finally gotten her to sit and eat some breakfast. If you could call what she was doing to her food eating. The sun hadn’t completely risen yet, but was well on its way. Time to start talking about the nightmare that had sent her running to the toilet earlier.

“How’s the tummy?” He wasn’t so much of a monster he would pass over her obvious discomfort before going on to the necessary evil.

“Fine,” she grunted.

He smiled. She crumbled her toast into a pile of toast dust.

“So…”

“He killed her. Except he was a man this time.”

Caelan inhaled sharply and snagged her fingers to hold in his hand when she took intense interest in her fingernails. This is what he’d been waiting for. What he could have gotten out of her earlier had they not ended up wrestling naked on the floor.

“Are you sure the man and the wolf you saw before were the same shifter?”

“I don’t know,” she shouted, making him jump in his seat. “Their eyes were the same, like yours and your wolf’s are the same, and his hand…” Her words trailed off so he didn’t hear anything past hand, but the way she was squeezing him was all the testimony he needed. She was scared.

“What about his hand?”

“Well, not really his hand, but his wrist. He had on the same watch as you. The same one the driver wore also. And I noticed this morning you have a tattoo beneath yours.”

Caelan’s gaze drifted to the ancient symbol of a wolf he and Eli had gotten tattooed with when they were twenty-one. It was small enough not to stand out, especially beneath the watch, but still visible because of their position. The top of the wrist was an abnormal placement for someone who wasn’t covered in permanent drawings, but surely there were a few. More than just he and Eli, at least. Weren’t there?

“Did that person also have a tattoo?” he asked, hoping she said no.

Tieran shook her head. Caelan closed his eyes.
Thank God. It was definitely not Eli she’d seen then.

“I…can’t remember. Something just stood out at me when I saw yours this morning.”

Caelan released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Not the answer he wanted. If she didn’t see it, was it because the tattoo wasn’t there, or because it was hidden beneath the watch?

He cleared his throat and his mind. “Where were they?” he asked, redirecting Tieran to the vision.

She shook her head again. “I don’t know. A warehouse somewhere. It was empty, old.” Her free hand came up to wipe at the goose bumps breaking out along her arm. “She was tied to a chair in the middle of the room and there was only one light on, right above her.” She swallowed and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.