Ravenous Page 3

  And worry they did, for the people of the town were well meaning enough, if a bit judgmental. Cady knew they meant to see her happy. The problem was that her idea of happiness and their idea of happiness were two very different things altogether.

  She would be happy, well and truly, to not find herself fighting supernatural monsters on a regular basis. What had her strange visitor the night before called them? Daemons. The Daemon Horde. Cady felt the title was more than appropriate for the hideous beasts.

  As they had many times throughout the long hours of the day, Cady’s thoughts once again strayed to her visitor from the previous evening. For some strange reason she couldn’t yet comprehend, she no longer thought of him as her attacker. True, he had invaded her home, fought with her, and interrogated her. But she couldn’t bring herself to completely hate and fear him after he’d so helpfully seen to her wounds before he’d left her.

  It was obvious that he hadn’t wanted to be out after dawn—for reasons she didn’t care to dwell on at the moment—and it surprised her that he’d stayed to see to her care while she’d been unconscious. She wondered just how long it had taken him to heal her wounds, and just how he’d gone about doing it. One thing was for absolute certain. He hadn’t healed her in any conventional manner.

  He’d said that they would meet again, and Cady couldn’t help but wonder how soon he intended to see his promise fulfilled.

  Chapter Four

  Cady swept the folds of her black trench coat around her and gathered her things in preparation to leave her shift. The bookstore would stay open until nine, and though her employer often wanted her to extend her hours to closing time, she always left promptly at six. She had more important matters to see to besides getting more hours on her paycheck.

  She knew the townsfolk saw her as something of an oddity, but she didn’t fight evil every night to gain the respect of her peers. Hers was a thankless job, but one she felt was more important than social acceptance could ever be. In good conscience, she knew she would never be able to set aside her self-appointed duties. So she tried not to dwell too much on the many personal costs demanded by her strange lifestyle.

  The weather was already turning warm outside. Though it was only February, the southern spring was coming early. So when Cady stepped outside the shop after waving goodbye to her co-workers and boss, she immediately felt overdressed in her long coat. But wear it she must, for the monsters had been busy recently, and deep within the concealing folds of her coat lay nestled a small arsenal should she have need of it. Though it was early yet for the Daemons to be out and about, she liked to feel prepared.

  It would be a little while longer before sundown. That gave Cady just enough time to go home and change into her usual monster hunting attire, and to gather what weapons she could easily carry. To prepare herself mentally for the battles she was sure to engage this night.

  And to feed her cat, Squaker.

  * * * * *

  She felt him just as she stepped into the house. Her extra-sensory perception clamored in alarm before she tamped down on the panicked feeling. This time she didn’t give him the advantage of surprise. Instead, she whipped out her Browning and pointed the muzzle of the gun in the direction she knew he was standing.

  “Let’s cut to the chase, Mister. What are you, who are you, and what do you want from me?” In the growing shadows she saw him shift, his muscles moving with a barely suppressed violence. The sun was setting outside, and Cady was struck with the thought that they had come almost full circle from the night before.

  “Do you feel protected behind your mortal weapon?” he asked.

  “Yeah, pretty much.” Cocky? Her? Nah.

  “Then I shall let you keep it…for now.”

  “You’re a real arrogant piece of work, do you know that? But it seems I’m the one holding the gun, which means you have to answer my questions this time around.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready to hear my answers, mortal?”

  “I’m going to count to three and if you haven’t answered me by then, I’m going to empty my clip into your ass. One…”

  “Be warned, mortal. Your cocksure words could stray into the realm of the foolhardy. I have little patience for the bravado of your kind.”

  “Two…”

  “You wish to know what I am? Very well, I will tell you, but only because it suits my own ends to do so. I am a Shikar. I am a respected and feared warrior of that great and ancient race. I am Obsidian, son of Lance—the greatest warrior the Shikar have ever known. Can you boast of so great a lineage, woman?”

  “That doesn’t answer anything for me, and you know it. What is a Shikar?”

  “We are the Guardians against the Horde. We are all that stands between their world and yours. We keep mortals and immortals alike safe from the tide of evil, keeping the Daemons from entering your dimension.”

  “You’re not human.”

  “Indeed not. My race is an ancient and powerful one. We’ve been here since the beginning. We stand watch at the Gates between the worlds, keeping order and balance. Without us there would be nothing but chaos and death.”

  Cady’s gun wavered. What was he saying? Her mind wanted to disbelieve him, struggled to, but what he said made sense on many levels. She firmed her grip on her firearm, squaring her shoulders.

  “Well you Shikars obviously haven’t been doing too good a job protecting lately. For the past fifteen years I’ve seen a steady rise in the monsters’ activity. It’s no picnic cleaning up after you guys, you know.”

  “Which brings me to your last question—what I want. I want you to join with us in our battle against this newest surge of Daemonic activity.”

  “Give me a break. Last night you almost killed me because you thought I was your enemy. Now you want me to team up with you? I’m not completely dense—I can hear your derision when you speak of my humanity. My mortality. What’s made you change your mind so quickly?”

  “I haven’t changed my mind. I have no respect for your kind. You live off the fruits of our labors. You go through life unaware of the constant threat to your safety. Your very existence. All you care about are your material possessions, your petty successes, your station in human society—“

  “Hey! Not everyone is like that, and you certainly can’t include me in your prejudiced view of humankind. I’ve spent my entire life practically shunned by my peers due to my penchant for ‘Daemon’ hunting. I don’t do this for material possessions, or popularity. I do it because no one else will.”

  “I apologize, of course.” He bowed at the waist, and even in the twilight Cady could see his eyes flash. Whether in amusement over her outburst, or irritation that she’d reprimanded him, she couldn’t say.

  “And you’re absolutely right,” he went on to say. “You are not like these other humans. You say you hunt Daemons because no one else will—I say no one else can. I’ve never heard of a mortal that could face a minion of the Horde and live to tell of it, much less leave the struggle triumphant. I salute you for your courage, and prowess in battle. I’m sorry if my words offended you.”

  She didn’t know if he was serious or merely humoring her. She assumed the latter. “Don’t patronize me. Good grief, are you always this annoying? No! Don’t answer that,” she warned when he made a move to speak. “You’ll just say something flippant and piss me off. Remember, I’m the one holding the gun, so just answer my questions without getting cute—“

  Her words were cut off abruptly as she felt a stinging blow to her arm. Then the Browning was wrenched cleanly from her hand. She looked to the place where her adversary had been standing, and saw the glint of her gun barrel as it was pointed squarely at her.

  She hadn’t even seen him move.

  “Son of a bitch,” she growled.

  “Now, it would seem that I am the one holding the gun, human. Perhaps now you should show me a bit more respect.”

  “When hell freezes over. Maybe.” She sighed, and relaxed her st
ance, crossing her arms negligently over her stomach, hands resting under the lapels of her coat. “Look, I’m tired of arguing with you. Can we cease with the posturing and get on with it? In case you haven’t noticed, nightfall is upon us, and I have work to do. Tell me exactly what it is you want from me.”

  “Shall I set your human weapon aside, so that we may speak as comrades?”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not.” Would he do it, she wondered? Was he that stupid…or that skilled?

  She eased her hands closer to the hidden gun holstered at her side. It was a good thing she’d donned the loose shoulder harness in her car before entering the house. She’d learned her lesson the night before, knowing she’d need every trick she could devise to use against this man should he show up uninvited in her home again.

  He slowly laid the gun down on a nearby table. Holding his hands up, palms out in front of him in a position of truce, he backed away from the weapon. He settled himself back into the shadows and seemed to await her next words.

  It was all the opportunity she needed.

  The gun hidden at her side fell into her hand as if by magic, and she charged towards him, weapon at the ready. She didn’t want to use the gun. So she used all of the speed she could muster, moving faster than any normal human eye could discern, hoping to take him to the floor and subdue him.

  She just wasn’t fast enough.

  Within the space of two breaths she was stopped mid-flight—her gun plucked once more from her hand. She was thrust back by a hand at her chest, and she fell upon the hardwood floor with a thud. Her body was jarred in the rough landing, but it was the wall that landed on top of her that stole her breath from her.

  The wall was his body, a heavy, solid mass. Before she even had time to catch her breath, he had insinuated himself between her legs. His hips rested in the cradle of her thighs and his chest held her to the floor. He secured both her arms in one strong hand and gripped her chin with the other so that she looked him squarely in his strange, glowing eyes.

  She was effectively pinned, unable to move.

  “I just wanted to talk with you. But you had to do it the hard way.”

  “I do everything the hard way. I’ve been told I don’t know any better.” She gritted her teeth against her humiliating situation, trying and almost succeeding to sound flippant.

  He seemed to be enjoying her discomfort. In more ways than one. She could feel the hardness of his erection pressed against her and wondered what was to come next. She saw his eyes flare and glow, sparks seeming to shoot deep within their golden depths. A stray shaft of moonlight fell across them and she caught her first clear glimpse of his face.

  Her heart nearly stopped beating in her chest.

  Chapter Five

  He was gorgeous! Beautiful. Sex personified.

  His face was the fantasy of every woman’s wet dreams. He had flawless skin, bronzed and masculine. With a proud, aristocratic nose and a mouth that was surely sculpted by a cosmic master artisan with but one purpose in mind. The creation of a sex-god. His mouth alone made heat pool low in her belly, setting off her libido like a torch to dry kindling.

  His hair was his crowning glory. Though it was pulled back away from his face, she could tell it was long and thick. It was black, so deeply black that it seemed to swallow up all the surrounding light into its depths. It glistened like glass, so shiny that the black hue of it would probably appear blue in a strong light. She sighed. She was a sucker for a man with good hair.

  “Carajo,” she breathed in appreciation.

  Obsidian saw her reaction to his appearance and smiled to himself. For some reason her appreciation of his charms pleased him more than it should. It was true that human women often thought him pleasing to look upon, but until now his physical appearance had only been a means to an end. A way to lure women into his arms and into his bed.

  But now, looking into Cady’s dark, human eyes, he felt something close to pride that she found him attractive. Something close to triumph.

  “You speak Spanish?” he asked in kind, noting her stunned expression with some satisfaction. Shikars could speak nearly every human language fluently. They were born with the ability and it was a gift that came very much in handy while amongst humans.

  “A little. My father and grandparents were from Puerto Rico,” she gritted out.

  Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply of her scent. She smelled of wind, rain, and wildflowers. He’d noticed that about her the previous night, her sweet natural perfume. When they’d struggled together, her scent had marked him somehow, and all through the night he’d smelled her on his hands, his clothing, everywhere. He’d been unable to breathe without thinking of her.

  He’d masturbated with the vision of her in his mind, and the scent of her in his nostrils. It had been so explosive a release for him that he’d wondered just how amazing the real thing would be. He’d grown so hot over the thought that he’d had to masturbate yet again before he could seek his rest.

  He felt himself grow hard against her. Harder, he was forced to admit. Because ever since he’d first caught sight of her this night, brandishing her gun like a warrior-princess, he’d had a raging hard-on for her. He felt her stir against him with her body’s instinctive response to the dominating mastery of his. It made his cock thicken and grow longer against her, just that small shifting of her form against him.

  He wanted her. He would not rest until he had her.

  Admitting this truth to himself had become far easier than he’d thought possible in the past half-hour. He’d been fighting against the realization of the true depths of his attraction since he’d first seen her the night before. Now he wondered why he’d even bothered, for his surrender to the truth was far sweeter than any victory he’d ever known. His eyes roved down to the soft bow of her mouth and he was lost.

  Cady had the space of a heartbeat to prepare herself, before he dipped his head down and tasted of her lips. At that small, testing caress she felt a searing bolt of lightning rip through her. It was as if an electric current ran from his mouth to hers, making her see stars behind her fluttering lids. She moaned, surrendering and returning his kiss. She lifted her head to his and moved her lips fervently against him. It was the most stirring kiss she’d ever received in her life.

  He parted her lips with a growl of male satisfaction, and speared his tongue deeply into her mouth. She met it with her own, eagerly. He tasted wild and untamed. Like pure, raging testosterone unleashed. Their teeth met as the kiss grew more heated, their lips meshed and their tongues thrust in a duel as old as time.

  A wicked thrill danced through her when he drew her lower lip into his mouth. He suckled it as if it were a ripe fruit, lightly bringing his teeth to bear on the sensitive flesh. She moaned and squirmed against him. He was hard and hot against her. It was all she could do to keep from throwing her legs about his waist to rub against him until she came.

  Oh hell, why not? Her legs came up and wrapped around him. He growled his response into her mouth, kissing her even more deeply.

  It became difficult for Cady to catch a breath. Blackness swam inside her head and she tried to pull away, to breathe, but he would have none of it. He growled again and renewed his attack on her senses with an even fiercer kiss. She struggled—weakly because she was still caught up in the passion—but if she didn’t get to breathe soon, she knew she was going to pass out.

  Just when she thought she would lose consciousness, Obsidian puffed his own warm breath into her lungs and she was revived. His breath became her breath, and she depended upon him for each new burst of oxygen during their kiss. She knew she was making little mewling noises of excitement, but she didn’t care. It was the most erotic experience of her life.

  Cady tried to free her wrists from his imprisoning hand, but he was far too strong. He wouldn’t let her budge, nor would he willingly set her free. She tried again, and this time he paused in their kiss to raise his lips from hers and look deeply into her eyes. She a
lmost screamed at him for interrupting their kiss, until she was caught up in his burning gaze.

  Their eyes were locked in silent combat—his seeking her surrender, hers seeking freedom. He moved against her, grinding his hardened cock more tightly against her already drenched and pulsing core. The feeling of his hard flesh against her was so arousing that she ceased struggling beneath him. He moved against her again, an undulating, rocking motion, and she eagerly tightened her legs and moved back against him.

  He stilled. He looked from her gaze to her still imprisoned hands, and then back. He seemed to be waiting for something, some sign from her that she would no longer fight him should he choose to release her.

  “Please….” she begged while shamelessly arching up against him, in search of more of that delicious friction he’d been so generous in giving her but moments before.

  He seemed pleased with her response, and slowly released her hands, his movements clearly proving to her that he could recapture her at any time should he choose to do so. Her arms came around his shoulders, and she almost swooned to find how muscular and strong he felt beneath her hands. He was pure, masculine perfection.

  Obsidian swooped down to resume their kiss, this one even more abandoned and passionate than the one before. Cady’s hands roved all over his body—what parts she could reach—and Obsidian’s did the same to her. His tongue speared deeply into the recesses of her mouth, and his hips moved and bumped his erection against her pelvic bone. One of his hands speared itself in her hair, while the other moved to cup a full breast, kneading her in such a way that it drove her crazy with lust.

  Cady moaned and bowed her back, thrusting her breast more firmly into his hand. It felt burning hot against her, even through her clothing, as he squeezed her flesh. Strong fingers moved to pluck her nipple through the fabric of her shirt, and she felt it plump and harden, so tight she thought it would burst.

  His gloriously skilled fingers pinched, pulled and twisted her nipple. His mouth moved from hers to trail a hot path down her jaw to her neck where he rooted and suckled and laved. She keened, a high, helpless sound of mindless excitement. The hand in her hair clenched, and she found herself wishing her hair was unbound from its braid so that he could clutch fistfuls of it the way she knew they both wanted him to.