Wolf Hunt Page 3

  Logan gave up on not touching her, and brushed his fingertips across her cheek. Her skin was warm, smooth, but still too bloodless. “Do you need life essence?” he asked her.

  Nadia’s eyes popped open, and he saw the hunger in her dark demon gaze. “What do you know about that?”

  “I know demons need a certain amount of life essence, or they can’t survive. I learned a lot about demons working with Samantha, believe me.”

  Half-demon Samantha, when she’d been Logan’s partner at the LAPD, had without knowing it siphoned off a little of Logan’s life essence each day. Samantha had been upset when she’d discovered that, but the small act had calmed the magical ferociousness of the Packmaster somewhat, which had been fine with Logan. He’d been having difficulty staying under control away from his home and pack, and Samantha had helped him, even if she hadn’t known it.

  When Samantha realized what she’d been doing, she stopped. Cold turkey. Logan, who’d grown used to the calming effects of Samantha’s siphoning, found his Packmaster instincts flaring doubly strong.

  Since Samantha had ceased and then left the department, Logan had been a little more vicious with the paranormals it was his job to arrest, and more protective of his new partner. Nez never said anything, but Logan sometimes sensed the man’s uneasiness with him. Logan knew his control was slipping. With Nadia, that control cracked like thin ice.

  Logan caressed her cheek again. “Take some from me.”

  Nadia’s eyes widened, and she tried to twist away from his touch. “No.”

  “You have to. Take a little.”

  “You have a death wish or something?” she demanded. “I could kill you.”

  “I’m a powerful werewolf. I can take a little essence sucking. So do it.” Logan pressed his hand to her face.

  Nadia tried to squirm away again, but then something dark tugged at Logan, and Nadia gasped.

  Light flared under Logan’s fingertips. He felt his life essence leap up and flow rapidly into her through his fingers, a sharp pain slicing through him as it went.

  It had never felt like this with Samantha. With Samantha, he’d experienced a tug, a loosening of tension, and an easy, almost meditative release. With Nadia, the life essence rushed rapidly out of him, the demon in Nadia imbibing it as though she couldn’t get enough. The pain washed away, to be replaced with a flood of longing.

  Logan’s hardening cock pushed at his jeans, the scent of her exciting him as did the sight of her lying under him in nothing but his coat. He could rip the coat from her, enter her, and thrust until he was groaning with it, until she was. He wanted it. Now.

  Nadia grabbed his wrist and forced his hand away. Logan jerked back and dragged in a breath of cold air. “Shit.”

  “Enough.” Nadia sounded stronger, the red glint in her eyes replaced with tiny white sparks. “Get off me, Detective.”

  Logan made himself roll off the bed and to his feet. He knew that a demon taking life essence could give the donor an orgasmic high, but the elation that flooded him was more than that.

  Craving for a demon was old magic, leftover from the days when demons kept their hordes of human slaves pacified by the satiation that went with being fed upon. If a human let a demon take his life essence too often, he’d start to have a jones for the experience, be unable to function unless he had a little demon contact. That was why people nowadays went to the demon clubs—for the pleasure of letting someone like Nadia feed from them.

  With her eyes half closed, drunk with his essence, Nadia was so sensual Logan had to take another step back. His hard-on pushed at him until he gritted his teeth.

  “Get under the covers and sleep,” he snapped. “I’ll find you some clothes and food for both of us.”

  “Fine,” Nadia said. She was angry, but to Logan’s demon-needing senses her voice was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

  Logan knew, logically, that he was reacting to her demon glamour, the beauty that sucked in the unwary. At the same time the Packmaster in him longed to touch her and reassure her that she was protected.

  The conflicting desires ripped at him. Logan the man and Logan the wolf weren’t often at odds, but his wolf’s mind was snarling and snapping at what Logan’s human body needed.

  He had to get out of there.

  “Double-lock the door behind me,” Logan said, forcing himself to turn away. “Make damn sure it’s me before you open it again.”

  He walked across the room and reached for the door. The cold embraced him as he yanked it open.

  He had to look back. Nadia had lifted herself on her elbow, a delectable picture of lovely woman on his bed, wearing nothing but his coat.

  Logan deliberately turned away, slammed the door, and plunged into the cold.

  Nadia let out a breath of release and frustration as Logan’s motorcycle rumbled off into the evening. She swung out of bed, locked and chained the door as he’d instructed, then stood with her back against it.

  Her body was hot and aroused; Logan’s life essence like nothing she’d ever tasted. She knew it was dangerous to take from a powerful life-magic creature, but oh gods, wasn’t his essence sweet? It still surged through Nadia like a white-hot flame. The temptation to lace her fingers around his neck, open her mouth, and suck it all into her had been hard to resist.

  Logan tasted like fine wine laced with hot peppers, and felt like . . .

  Nadia closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her lips. She was lucky she’d been able to stop and push him away. Logan had been aroused too—she’d felt his hard cock through the denim that separated them. What would it be like to drink his essence while he was inside her?

  She stifled a groan. She had no business thinking things like that.

  But Nadia could still feel his essence inside her, a connection to him. Damn. The heady afterglow gave her a strong impulse to relax, to sleep and recover, but Nadia had things to do.

  She limped to the duffle bag Logan had dumped on a rickety chair, pried it open, and began to sift through it.

  Something heavy rattled inside a small box, and she opened it to find revolver bullets. She lifted one and examined it. Silver.

  So Logan had come prepared to shoot and kill the werewolves of his own pack. That made her feel even worse.

  Nadia dropped the bullet back into the box. I’m a demon. I’m not supposed to give a damn about the feelings of a lone werewolf. She shoved the box back inside.

  Logan’s bag also held a couple of sweatshirts and a pair of jeans, all with the price tags still on them. Nadia slid off the fleece coat and pulled on a sweatshirt. Even brand new, the shirt already carried a trace of Logan’s life essence.

  The unopened package of briefs did likewise. Nadia pulled the package apart and shook out the generic white cotton. Very practical, no racy thongs for Detective Logan Wright.

  Nadia couldn’t help imagining Logan’s butt filling out the briefs. He had the sweetest ass.

  He’d fill out the front side well too. She’d felt as much when he’d lain on top of her. Nadia slid the underwear on, trying to forget the heady joy of the whole Logan experience.

  Nadia was pleased that her hips were slim enough for the underwear, though the briefs felt weird on her. The spare pair of jeans felt odd too, too tight in the wrong places, too loose in others.

  She straightened up and caught sight of herself in the mirror, her eyes dark in a pale face. Here she was, all dressed up and nowhere to go. She couldn’t simply call Samantha and ask for a ride back to Los Angeles. That wasn’t an option. She had to finish her part in this, or risk everything she cared about. There were things she had to do, a hole in her heart.

  Another search of the duffle bag rendered a money clip with ten twenties in it. Interesting. Was it a spare stash Logan had forgotten about, or had he left it to tempt Nadia?

  Stupid werewolves. Just because they were life-magic creatures, people got the idea that they were on the side of good. But werewolves were only for themselves whe
n it all came down to it.

  Nadia turned to the phone. She didn’t really want to use the hotel’s telephone, but she didn’t have much choice.

  The first was to a house in suburban Los Angeles. “Is everything all right?” she asked the woman who answered. “Is Joel home from school?”

  “Yes, he’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be?”

  Nadia exhaled in relief, said a few more expected and reassuring things, and hung up. She dialed another number but had to leave a message when voicemail picked up.

  The sound of a motorcycle made her jump, and she slammed down the phone. She knew it was Logan—she recognized the purr of his Harley. She tossed the money clip back into the bag and peeked out the tiny window to see Logan’s bulk under the yellow porch light before she opened the door.

  Logan swirled in on a wave of wind and snow, his hands full of bags. She closed and bolted the door behind her, then turned to find his golden gaze taking in his clothes on her body.

  “I told you I’d get you something to wear.” His eyes darkened. “Although you look pretty good in those.”

  “I was cold.”

  Logan turned away, his expression guarded. “You can take a shower, if this dump has any hot water.”

  Nadia imagined herself in a steam-filled bathroom with glorious water beating down on her. Even better if Logan came through the steam to her, sliding his hands around her body, and leaning down to kiss her lips.

  Stop.

  “I’m more interested in the food right now,” Nadia said, trying to keep her voice steady.

  “I didn’t have to go far to find it.” Logan held up a white bag from a fast food chain. “How many cheeseburgers do you want?”

  Nadia’s stomach rumbled. How long since she’d eaten? Forty-eight hours?

  “Just give me one.”

  Logan tossed her a paper-wrapped burger. Nadia sank to a chair at the scarred table and ripped open the paper, barely getting the wrapping out of the way before she bit into the burger.

  Meat, juicy and hot, melted cheese oozing over everything. Junk food had never tasted so good.

  “Demons like cheeseburgers?” Logan asked.

  Nadia swallowed and wiped her mouth with a thin paper napkin. “You thought we craved the taste of human flesh? Or yummy life-magic creatures?”

  “Very funny. Don’t eat so fast. You’ll just bring it up again.”

  Nadia didn’t care. She could eat everything on this table and be hungry for more.

  “Thank you,” she said, her mouth full.

  Logan shrugged, unwrapping a burger for himself. “They weren’t busy. It was easy to persuade them to give me everything they’d already made.”

  With Logan, that probably meant looking at them with his golden wolf’s eyes before the kids behind the counter fell all over themselves to do whatever he bade them.

  “Are you ready to tell me what happened?” Logan asked, putting his burger down after only a few bites.

  Nadia sighed. “Logan, don’t ask me. I appreciate your help, but please take me somewhere safe and then forget all about me.”

  “I can’t do that.” He looked straight at her. “I told you I’d protect you, and I take my oaths seriously.”

  “All right, but who protects me from you?”

  Logan continued to hold her gaze, and Nadia felt the power of the dominant werewolf touch her. The demon in her didn’t like it, at the same time she was fascinated by it.

  “I’d never hurt you, Nadia,” he said evenly.

  Nadia shot him a smile. “Unless you caught me sucking too much life essence out of a human or doing something equally demonic? Especially if I did it in your jurisdiction?”

  Logan didn’t laugh, his tawny eyes narrowing. “Is that what you think? That I’m a cop twenty-four, seven?”

  She shrugged. “You’re paranormal police—it’s your job to stop demons getting chaotic. You’re also a werewolf, and I’m a death-magic creature. We’re natural enemies. Neither of us is safe from the other, although I admit I couldn’t kick your ass if I tried right now.”

  The hint of a smile touched his mouth. “Why would you try to kick my ass? I just rescued you.”

  Logan really shouldn’t smile like that. Was he trying to melt her? “And now I’m in your power,” Nadia said. “Samantha told me you were a Packmaster, which she said meant the equivalent of head cop of your pack.”

  Logan’s smile died. “Used to be.” He pushed the burger aside and rested his elbows on the table. His forearms were covered with golden hair and crisscrossed with tiny scars. “One of the wolves hunting you was my old pack leader, Matt Lewis.”

  Was it Nadia’s imagination, or was Logan waiting to see if she recognized the name? She shrugged. “Does he hunt demons a lot?”

  “He shouldn’t be hunting them at all. I think this is about me, not you. He’s using you to draw me out.”

  Nadia looked down at the remains of her burger. “Why would he do that? You barely know me.”

  Logan waited a moment before he answered, his voice low. “I know you well enough.”

  Nadia wondered why he thought so. They’d met two more times after their first pizza together to have beer or coffee and talk about Harleys. They’d never asked each other personal questions or gone out on a serious date or home with each other. No matter what sexual fantasies Nadia had spun about Logan, they’d never happened. Probably never would.

  Logan went on. “I’m sure Matt has a spy in Los Angeles keeping tabs on me. Did Matt or his wolves nab you in L.A.?”

  Were half-truths better than none at all? “Not exactly. I came up here on my own.”

  “What for? Can’t be the weather.”

  Nadia carefully picked cheese from the wrapper. “I was looking for a change. I thought I could find a job up here.”

  Logan studied her the same way he would a suspect across an interrogation table. “There aren’t a lot of supernatural beings around here. No werewolf packs, no vamps, no demons. What made you think someone would hire a demon? Or are there demon clubs even in this remote area?”

  “It’s not what you think,” Nadia said. “I wasn’t looking for a job in the demon trade, but for something different—like a concierge or something at one of the ski resorts. Planning outings for wealthy skiers. I only did the clubs in L.A. because I needed the money. Desperately.” Pandering to those who loved the high of a demon taking their life essence had disgusted her, but Nadia hadn’t had much choice.

  “You left the clubs, though, you and your sister,” Logan said.

  “Because the asshole who ran the club in Santa Monica kept after Bev to become his permanent mistress,” Nadia said, old anger rising. “She was afraid of him. So I told him what to do with himself, and we walked.”

  “The club owner wasn’t your clan, was he? You’re Lamiah clan, he was Obsejan.”

  Nadia felt uneasy. “Good work, Detective. Checking up on me?”

  Logan shrugged. “I was curious as to why two girls from a Lamiah family would work for a rival clan’s club. And why you didn’t go back to a Lamiah club, like Merrick’s, when you and Bev left the first job.”

  Nadia gave him a wry smile. “It’s not as easy in the clubs as you think. The bosses believe they own everyone who works for them. Merrick was cool and left us alone when we went independent, but he wasn’t about to help us without getting something in return.” She paused, letting the smile die. “I’ll give you three guesses what he asked for in return.”

  Though Logan didn’t move, Nadia sensed rage inside him. “Now I know why I never liked Merrick,” he said carefully.

  “He can be a real sleazebag,” Nadia agreed. “Though a helpful one sometimes.”

  “I’m glad you stopped.” His voice was quiet.

  “After what happened to Bev . . .”

  Nadia broke off, the emptiness inside her swelling. She and her sister had been abducted and beaten because they were demons, rendered helpless by spells so they couldn’t fight b
ack. Bev had lost her life at the hands of a fanatic, and Nadia had vowed never to put herself or anyone she loved in that kind of danger again.

  She’d even found herself advising demon girls in clubs and on the streets about what kind of dangers they faced. A crusader, that’s what she’d become.

  The club owners had started to ban her from coming around, because demon clubs made fortunes off the idiots who sought the demon experience. Some of the girls had already listened to Nadia and given up the life.

  “What did you need the money for?” Logan asked.

  Nadia jumped. “What?”

  Logan pinned her with another hard gaze. “You said you worked the clubs because you needed the money. You came up here looking for a job, so I assume you still do.”

  Nadia pressed her hands to the table. “And now we’re into things that are none of your business.”

  “It’s my business now.” Logan frowned at her. “You aren’t safely home with your Lamiah clan, and my pack leader is pursuing you through the woods.”

  Nadia folded her arms, feeling slightly queasy. Her cheeseburger wrapper still held a bit of melted cheese, but her appetite had disappeared. Logan had been right that she probably shouldn’t have eaten so fast.

  “My clan disowned me and my sister. You knew that.”

  Logan nodded. “Yes, but the old matriarch is dead. Samantha is your clan leader now, and she’s made it clear you’re welcome back.”

  Nadia shot him another smile. “Leave it alone, wolfman.”

  “I can’t, hell-spawn,” Logan said without humor. “I consider you a friend. Doesn’t matter that you’re not werewolf. I’ll do whatever I can for you.”

  “And I’m grateful to you for helping me. Believe it. But please stop asking me questions I can’t answer.”

  “I can’t do that.” Logan’s eyes flared with the wolf’s anger he was keeping under control. “If you don’t want me knowing anything about you, why, when you were in trouble, did you decide to call me?”