Haunted by Your Touch

“I’m not a lycan. I’m something else.”

The announcement twisted like a knife in her chest. “You’re lying!”

“Sorry—either your hunter friend lied to you or he was mistaken. Your alpha is out there somewhere, but it’s not me. You’re one of them—” He rose higher above her, a lengthening shadow, removing himself from her even as the gun deepened its kiss beneath her chin. He meant to kill her.

“No.” He was lying. She didn’t know why, but he was. He had to be.

“You’re infected.”

“No—”

“You’re ruined.”

Her voice fell harder, her denial hotter. “No! I’m not. I’m a person! Not a monster.”

“Not anymore.” He pulled back the hammer, the grinding click twisting her stomach, and she realized all the shouting, all the no’s in the world, would not stop him. He meant to kill her. To end her life here on the cold ground of autumn, miles from Los Angeles, miles from her mother. She closed her eyes in a long, agonized blink.

“Please. My name is Lily.” The words rose from deep within her. She was a person. With a name. Not some monster in need of killing. Not like the thing that had bitten her. He had to see that.

Gradually the pressure beneath her chin eased. The gun moved away. His weight lifted as well. Before she had time to orient herself, she was pulled to her feet.

“Come,” he commanded, moving ahead of her. Leaving her.

For a moment, she stood alone, surrounded by trees and quiet night. Moonlight infiltrated the thick canopy of branches as she watched his lithe movements carry him forward, confident and fully expecting her to follow.

And for whatever reason, she did. Nothing had changed. Her mission was the same. She didn’t believe his vague I’m something else. Right. He was the key to her survival. Killing him meant life. That had to be true. She wasn’t giving up.

Lily.

A flower. Sweet and pure. He dragged a hand over his head to the back of his neck. Even better. Now she had a name. Now he would think of her as Lily. Lily with the great hair. With breasts that wouldn’t quit. With the fascinating scent that affected him on a primal level. Oh… and a fresh lycan bite on her arm that marked her as property of some pack out there. Lily, who would turn in the next month and no longer be so sweet, so innocent, so pure. So just take her. What does it matter? Satisfy your lusts and then destroy her.

Lily. The name cracked his resolve. She was too vulnerable, too… human. A girl. A woman.

Even if she wasn’t anymore.

Except for the bite on her arm, everything about her still screamed “human.” Vulnerable mortality. All that he had ever wished to be.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d shared an honest moment with a mortal. His mother’s family had raised him, reviling him as a child, then, later, as he grew into a man, fearing him.

He had never justified their fears. Never harmed a human who hadn’t tried to kill him first. He’d never wished to dominate and enslave man—as Ivo did. Luc believed humans to be generally good. Even the hard-core agents for NODEAL and its European counterpart, EFLA.

He’d witnessed war and atrocities in his lifetimes, but he’d also seen goodness and honesty and dignity within mankind. And that was what he saw in her. Goodness. Honesty. Dignity. He couldn’t destroy that. Lily—his first brush with humanity in countless years. And he couldn’t make himself destroy that—her. At least not yet. On the next moonrise, he would. When there would be no mistaking what she was. When all the humanity had faded from her DNA.

He could feel her stare drilling into his back as she followed him, could feel her uncertainty, her confusion. Because he’d denied being her alpha. Because he hadn’t killed her. A delay only, he assured himself. A way for him to do what needed to be done and not suffer guilt for the rest of his too-long life.

He strode inside his house, waiting for her in the mosaic tiled foyer, pausing near the stairs, one hand clutching the iron railing until he felt her arrival. Once her soft steps cleared the threshold, he pushed on, not daring to look over his shoulder and see the temptation he heard with every step… or smelled with every breath. He didn’t need to. He had seen her perfectly in the dark, his vision homing in on a face alluring in its sweetness. Round and apple-cheeked. Fresh. She would look young at forty. Not that she would ever see forty. She was lost. He would do well to remember that unless he wished to join her in the afterlife.

Blinking hard, he shoved back the stinging thought. He might struggle now with what needed to be done. But not later. Later he would perform his duty and not blink an eye.

Maybe he needed to venture into the city and find a woman for the night. Occasionally he succumbed and did such a thing, although he hated the risk, never fully trusting himself.

He walked down a corridor of bare walls, the soles of his boots sinking into the plush runner. He’d bought the house fifteen years ago, already furnished and decorated for some Hollywood big shot who had run out of funds before closing.

She trailed him silently, the sweet fragrance of her blood wrapping seductive tendrils around him. He passed through the kitchen, striding past top-grade utilitarian appliances, the gleaming steel of the oversized refrigerator revealing a blurred reflection of himself. The sharp blade of a nose. The harsh set of his dark brows over primal eyes. The black, close-cropped hair. Once, before his fourteenth winter, his eyes had been a light hazel, dark moss when he’d laughed. Or so he’d been told. Scarce laughter had filled his childhood. He and Ivo had had only each other. Born two days apart, they’d been more brothers than cousins. Cursed before they’d even left the womb.

Shoving thoughts of Ivo away, he descended to the cellar. Her steps echoed behind him. Standing in the center of the icy-cool room, he pulled the chain of the single bulb dangling near his head and faced her. The bulb danced wildly, sending light around the room like some kind of dizzying strobe.

She was tall. Her body full, like women used to be, when a little meat on your bones had meant wealth, prestige, status. A time he remembered. Ripe breasts pressed against the silky fabric of her top, the nipples prodded to attention. He could make out the tiny bumps dotting her areolas. His cock grew hard as he stared. Her eyes stared back at him. She had yet to survey the room… her prison for the next month.

Her dark eyes feasted on him in the sudden light, pupils dilating as they crawled over his face, seeing him for the first time, missing nothing. He felt the rise in her body temperature, noted the slight increase of blood flow in the heart that already thundered in her chest. He saw. He felt. He heard. He knew. One lift of his finger and he could have her. Could spend himself inside her until his animal passions subsided. The thought of sinking between those ripe thighs tormented him.

Quickly, desperate to flee, he lifted his arm and pointed to the wall, where chains hung, dark as slate, against the gray concrete. A mattress sat on the floor below the chains. They were there for him, although he’d never used them before. Never had the beast risen inside him to the point that he’d needed to restrain himself. He simply needed to be prepared. Needed precautions in place. If that day ever came.

“There,” he growled.

Her eyes widened and she shook her head, the brown waves tossing. “You cannot mean—” Her mouth trembled, those plump lips so appealing, so tempting…

“Get on the mattress.” Urgency sped through his veins, mingling with the pump of hot sexual need. He had to get out of here. Away from her. It had been too long.“Get on the mattress. Now.”

Chapter Three

Heart beating like a drum against her too-tight chest, Lily bolted past him. Only he was too strong. Too fast. Not a lycan, my ass!

He lifted her off her feet, one steel-muscled arm wrapped around her waist. She kicked, landing several solid blows, but it did no good. He didn’t slow, didn’t even grunt from the sharp dig of her boot heels. He was too tall, too big… too male. She was not a small woman, but his body swallowed hers.

He was something all right. Something inhuman. Something Curtis hadn’t gotten