Supernatural. Part 4

Head c.o.c.ked in a decidedly canine manner, Vladlena studied him as if he were some sort of puzzle to solve. "Clearly, you don't like him. So why do you work for him?"

And wasn't that the question of the century. Literally. He knew why he'd come here to work, but why he was still here . . . not so sure.

"Are you always so nosy?"

She graced him with a sunny smile that fit her so well. From her glowing, tan skin to her bright blonde hair, there wasn't an ounce of darkness in her. As great as she looked in the tailored black scrubs, he was tempted to order cheery yellow ones to suit her better.

"Must be the cat in me," she said breezily.

"Funny, but I'm not seeing a lot of cat in you."

Her smile faltered, but she recovered with an admirable deflection away from his observation. "Are you going to answer the question?"

"I didn't think I owed you any answers."

She shrugged one delicate shoulder. "I suppose you don't. But it would be nice."

Nice? Nice? Where had this female grown up? She was the least underworldly creature he'd ever met. He liked it. She reminded him of life before he'd been turned. Life before it had become a waking nightmare.

"Let's make a deal," he said. "You tell me why you're really here, and I'll tell you why I work for Fade."

The color drained out of her face so fast he nearly jumped to catch her if she pa.s.sed out. "I don't know what you mean."

"Your reaction tells me otherwise."

She stiffened. "I should get back to the office-"

He blocked her path. "What's your hurry?"

"I have a job to do."

"I'm the boss, and I say your job can wait."

Angry red splotches colored her cheeks. "No wonder your other medics quit. Did you bully them, too?"

"Nope."

She folded her arms over her chest, pus.h.i.+ng her b.r.e.a.s.t.s up and out. She should do that more. "So I'm special. How lovely."

"They didn't keep secrets from me." What color of bra was she wearing? She seemed like the type to wear practical beige or pure, sensible white.

"My secrets are my own, and you have no right to them." She snapped her fingers and pointed to her face. "My eyes are up here, Mr. Sabine."

Busted. Hard. He forced his attention away from his raging libido. "I have a right to them if they affect my business."

"They don't." She adjusted the well-worn stethoscope around her neck, even though it hadn't moved an inch. She'd done it out in the hall as well.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" she asked, and his eyes flicked to her fingers, which hovered over the time-whitened black tubing, and she jerked her hands to her sides. "It was my father's."

"So it's a comfort."

Her cheeks pinked delicately, as if a painter's brush had swept rose stain across them. "I know it's stupid. I just haven't had time to get a new one."

"You're a terrible liar." He reached out to brush out of her eye a strand of hair that had escaped its braid, letting his fingers linger on her warm skin. G.o.ds, there was such life in her, life that pulsed vibrantly under his fingertips and revved him like a motorcycle at full throttle. "Tell me, how do you survive in our world when you're so transparent? Who has taken care of you all this time?"

He hadn't meant his softly-spoken question as an insult, but she jerked away from him with a hiss.

"Shut up," she snapped. "Just . . ." She slapped her hand over her mouth, her expression stricken. "I . . . oh, geez, I'm sorry." He let her gather her wits, forcing himself to not reach for her again. "Look, I'm a little sensitive about this, okay? I'm trying to make it on my own. I'm out from under my father's thumb, and I'm tired of being protected and sheltered and treated like I'm made of gla.s.s. I can do things by myself. There are things I need to do before I die, you know?"

She made dying sound imminent. Yes, as a s.h.i.+fter, she was long-lived, but she wasn't immortal. Still, he sensed she was young, and she probably had a few hundred years left in her, so why the rush to do things?

"So, is this job part of your trying to make it on your own?"

Her brows pulled down into a deep frown. "Yes," she said, as if that thought had only now occurred to her, and maybe surprised her a little. "Your turn. Why are you working for a man you hate?" She stepped closer to him, and he doubted she even realized it. She was too busy regarding him with that you're-a-mystery-to-solve look again. "This has something to do with the fire you were talking about, doesn't it? The way it can burn so hot that it burns itself out."

Clearly, he'd said way too much to her, and even more clearly, she was too smart for her own good. Unable to think while she was staring at him with those too-knowledgeable eyes, he turned away from her and braced his hands on the bar. He sensed more than heard Lena move closer, and when her hand came down on his arm, it was as if he'd jammed his finger into an electrical socket. His body jerked, his muscles tensed, and intense, searing heat melted the marrow deep in his bones. G.o.ds, when was the last time he'd reacted like that to a woman?

The answer to that was something he didn't want to think about, because he hadn't even had that response to his wife.

The thought turned into a growl that pumped out of his chest as though it had been building steam for years. Too late, he realized he might have frightened Lena, but oddly, she didn't flinch. In fact, she began a gentle stroking action up and down his spine that both soothed him and put him into orbit.

"Don't," he rasped, even though he wasn't sure why he didn't want her touching him like that.

She ignored him, keeping up the light strokes. "Have you been with anyone since your mate died?"

His laugh was brittle to his own ears. "She didn't die. She was murdered. And I haven't been celibate, if that's what you're asking."

"No, it wasn't what I was asking."

Frowning, he stood straight and turned to her. Her hand fell to her side. "Then what were you asking?"

"If you've loved anyone since."

His head jerked back as if he'd been slapped, and he actually stepped backward to keep his balance. "Why?"

She matched his step, moving forward, and a freakish thread of panic wove through him. "Some species mate for life. I know vampires don't, but the blood bond can be strong. I've seen them waste away and die of broken hearts."

"I'm not burned out from a broken heart," he said tightly.

"I'm ashed from hatred."

"So you think there's nothing left except the hate?"

"I know there's not." h.e.l.l, he even doubted the hate was still there most of the time.

"Then why do you continue to work? To feed? Why not just step into the sun and end it all?"

Because the sun doesn't fry me. But yeah, he understood what she was asking. He'd asked himself the same question on a regular basis.

He scrubbed his hand over his face, unable to believe he was having this conversation with someone who was as alive as he was dead. "Ending it would mean I cared enough to do it."

"So you care for nothing." She peered up at him through long golden lashes, her gaze a bold, hard challenge. "Nothing at all fires your blood?"

His c.o.c.k stirred, as if it, too, was implying that he was a liar. "Oh, there's one thing that fires it."

Lena's expression was one of subtle triumph. "And what's that?"

"You." He raked his gaze over her, his blood racing faster with every second he lingered on her feminine curves. "For some reason, you engage my prey drive."

"So you see me as prey?"

"Touch me," he said in a low voice, "and find out."

Chapter 6.

Lena had never been so tempted to obey a command. As a nurse with an innate instinct to nurture and heal, she itched to treat Nate's wounds. As an adult female whose libido was going berserk, she longed to run her hands over every inch of his hard body.

As a s.h.i.+fter with a clock counting down the days to her death and who had always been "different," she just wanted to be normal for a little while. She wanted to know what being with a male was like. Oh, she couldn't go all the way-s.h.i.+fters were incapable of having s.e.x before their first s.h.i.+ft. Males couldn't get erections, and a female's hymen broke during her s.h.i.+ft, but was impenetrable before that. Eidolon had offered to attempt to surgically remove hers, but she'd turned him down, because seriously . . . how embarra.s.sing.

Now she was regretting that decision. She didn't have long to live, and she was going to die a virgin.

And really, could she be more of a drama queen?

Nate's blue eyes blazed down at her. "So you aren't going to take me up on that challenge, I see."

Challenge? The very word made something rise up in her . . . something besides l.u.s.t, anyway. It was a call to action, a desire to run him into the ground the way a wolf chased a deer. For the first time in her life, her animal instincts, which she'd begun to doubt she possessed, came alive, and it was one h.e.l.l of a rush.

So yes, she was going to die a virgin, but she wasn't going to die untouched.

Boldly, she stepped into him, enjoying the tiny flare of surprise that flashed across his face. He hadn't expected her to act, had he? The knowledge that she'd surprised him filled her with even more power.

She palmed his chest, felt the ripple of firm muscle beneath her hand. "Challenge accepted."

A growl rattled through his chest, the masculine, needy sound spiking her temperature. "Do you know what you're accepting?"

Not. A. Clue. Well, maybe. She might be a virgin, but she wasn't innocent. She'd grown up in her father's house, and he had a . . . healthy . . . appet.i.te. She couldn't count the nights she'd heard the noises from his bedroom or walked in on his exploits. And then there was college, and her roommate . . . but none of that could compare to what went on in the supply closets at Underworld General. When a hospital was run by s.e.x demons, there tended to be a lot of . . . s.e.x.

There was the slightest tremor in her hand as she took his and pressed it to her breast. "Show me."

No hesitation. In one ma.s.sive surge, he was on her. Taking her mouth with his, he pushed her back against the wall. His tongue pushed deep, tangling with hers, penetrating and retreating in a carnal rhythm that coaxed a moan of acquiescence from her.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against her lips. "Sweet. So . . . pure."

Pure. Yeah, okay, but not by choice. She'd wanted this for so long. She should probably feel guilty, given that she still hadn't ascertained the extent, if any, of his involvement in Vaughn's death, but if she was wrong and Nate wasn't involved, she couldn't pa.s.s this up. Besides, the closer she got to him, the more information she could get from him, right?

The justification for what she was doing was lame, and she knew it. But she also knew what her body was feeling. She'd been aroused before, had been attracted to males, but never like this. It was as if her body had been a dormant volcano, and now it was awakening after countless years of only minor quakes.

Her blood flowed like lava in her veins, liquid heat erupted between her thighs, and inside her chest, an aggressive growl shook her all the way to her bones. Closing her eyes and shutting off her mind, she let her body react. Nate's hands came up to cup her face, his fingers splayed to hold her for his kiss. His thumbs stroked her jaw as his tongue caressed her lips.

Desire swirled and coiled tight, fueled by Nate's sensual energy, and she found herself arching against him, rolling her hips to rub on the hard ridge of his erection. He made an erotic noise of approval and intensified the kiss, sweeping his tongue over her teeth, the roof of her mouth, and nipping at her lips.

s.h.i.+vering despite the steamy heat building between them, she clung to his biceps, pulling him as close as possible, loving the way his size made her feel so feminine. She wished they were at her apartment, or at a hotel . . . anywhere but here. She wished . . . what? She couldn't remember where her thoughts had been headed, because Nate's hands slid down her throat and shoulders, then lower. One arm slipped behind her back while his hand drifted over her breast, and her knees nearly buckled.

He seemed to know, and pushed one thick thigh between her legs to brace her against the wall. The move also put the most delicious pressure against her core, and she gasped with pleasure.

"That's it." His voice was a husky, ragged drawl as he kissed a sizzling path along her jaw. "Let me hear you."

"No doubt," she said in a raspy, turned-on voice she didn't recognize as hers, "your ego likes that."

She felt him smile against her skin. "My ego doesn't need boosting, but yes, it likes it." One hand slid down the back of her pants while the other tugged at the drawstrings at the front. Her pulse thudded obnoxiously loud in her ears as he cupped her b.u.t.t beneath her panties.

Was she really going to do this? He hissed, and she realized she'd dropped her own hands to his rear and was squeezing the firm globes through his slacks. She'd also lifted one leg to put her mound in contact with the bulge behind his fly, and her question about whether or not she was really going to do this was answered.

She wanted this. Desperately. So desperately that when he started to push her scrub pants down, she helped, hooking her thumbs under both her panties and the pants and shoving them to mid-thigh. Nate didn't waste time taking them off. His hand slipped between her legs, and when his fingers found her wetness, they both groaned.

Her head lolled back against the wall, and if there had been any nervousness before, it was gone, replaced by a mindless, primal desire to get this male on top of her, inside her, all over her. She nearly wept at the realization that he couldn't be inside her, but then sparks shot through her at the sweep of his thumb at the top of her cleft, and all that mattered was reaching that ultimate peak.

Panting, aching, she unzipped his slacks and released his ma.s.sive erection. When she wrapped her hand around his shaft, his mouth fell open and before her eyes, his fangs lengthened and his lips blushed red. Oh, oh . . . my. Her head involuntarily tilted to the left, exposing her throat. The fact that she'd so easily offered herself should have bothered her . . . would bother her later . . . but for now all she wanted was to feel those gorgeous canines buried deep in her flesh.

"Please," she whispered.

Instantly, his head came down, the tips of his fangs striking her throat . . . but not penetrating. For a long, breathless moment, he did nothing, though his fingers continued to play in lingering, smooth strokes back and forth through her slit. A heartbeat pa.s.sed. Two. Three. And then, with a sound similar to a purr, Nate closed his mouth over her throat but didn't bite.

"No," he said roughly, giving her the gentlest nip over her jugular. "No marks."

Before Lena could protest, because right now she'd willingly take his mark, he dipped one finger inside her entrance, using his fingertip to circle the ultra-sensitive tissue. His thumb brushed lightly over her c.l.i.t, tiny, teasing flicks that became firmer as she rolled her hips into his hand, desperate to land his touch where she needed it. At the same time, she squeezed his shaft, her strokes clumsy and unpracticed, but if the little hitches in his breath were any indication, he didn't seem to mind.

He captured her mouth again, and between her legs, tension mounted. "You're amazing," he murmured. "I've never met anyone like you."

His words were a silken caress that made the world shrink so that only they existed. He changed the tempo of his strokes, and the slick friction had her writhing, panting, running right to the edge and leaping off it.

"Yes," she cried out, the o.r.g.a.s.m tearing through her, a whirlwind of sensation that robbed Lena of all her senses and maybe even her consciousness for a moment. Her legs turned to gel, her vision went dark, and if not for Nate's big body, she'd have slid to the floor.

As she came down, she wondered how she was going to tell him she couldn't go any further than this.

Maybe she didn't need to. She pumped her fist slowly up and down his rigid length. Maybe she could pleasure him the way he'd pleasured her- A knock at the door froze that thought and brought a nasty snarl from deep in Nate's throat. His lips brushed her neck as he snapped, "What?"

"We have business." Fade's voice was an icy, crisp command that instantly dropped the temperature in the office.