What the hell was Jude?
He’d never seen a man hold electricity before. And he was sure that was what it was. Was Jude like an electric eel or something? Some weird shifter? Mack shook his head. Whatever he was, until Jude fucked off and left town, this wouldn’t be over.
Jude hadn’t moved. Had he hit him too hard? Mack kneeled, ready to recoil in an instant. Jude was breathing, and when Mack placed his fingers to Jude’s neck, his pulse was strong and even. There was no scent of blood. Jude should be okay.
Why did he even give a damn? Jude had attacked him. He deserved what he got. And Mack had proven himself to be a hazard. No, it had been self-defense. He should report Jude to the sheriff. Though he didn’t really want to be explaining to his father’s friend why he’d gone to a motel with Jude and how such a pretty boy had even stood a chance. No, that would only bite him on the ass.
Mack yanked open the door. His arm hairs drew to attention in the cool night air. The breeze was too much on his skin. He was too amped up and raw. Too hard. The lust was still there, hot and hungry. What was wrong with his body?
Must be the shifting heat and adrenaline all mixed up. Plus the unsated lust of what should’ve been a fun night. Would Jude report the assault to the cops? Or would he ask the Coven for reinforcements?
Mack was an idiot. A horny idiot. He let the door close softly instead of slamming. There was no need to get everyone curious. Let them think he’d had his fun—in record time.
Mack gritted his teeth and started back toward the bar where he’d left his truck. He needed to prove his innocence or find the real cow mutilator before Jude came back for round two.
With every step, something twisted in his gut. The lust didn’t stop—if anything, it burned brighter. Jude must have cursed him with that kiss.
Jude wasn’t a vampire, not that Mack had ever met one of them, but from what he’d heard, vampires had a lower body temperature. And while Jude’s eyes had glowed briefly, it hadn’t been because they were catching the light the way a shifter’s would. Except for the scent of the storm, Jude appeared to be human, even though he wasn’t. That left myriad of minor paranormals or Jude was a witch. A witch who could hold electricity. Mack had never heard of that. Maybe he hadn’t seen right, and it had just been the makings of a spell.
Mack paused and glanced back at the motel. He wanted to wipe his mouth again but didn’t. There was no point. That kiss had been good. And he hated that he’d liked it. He swallowed hard, but the memory wouldn’t fade, even though Jude had been faking. There had been no desire.
But it had seemed so real.
Jude thought he was a rogue shifter. It was almost funny if it wasn’t so serious. He should be glad the Coven had sent someone to investigate because whatever it was hadn’t stopped, and it was getting closer to town with each kill. With each kill, the fear in the air around town thickened. He wished the creature doing the killings was just a rogue shifter. That would’ve made life simple. He could’ve hunted it down and shaken some sense into them. Whatever it was, was hard to track. And when it left claw marks broader than the spread of his hand…well, he wasn’t sure he wanted to find it on his own.
He turned and stepped toward the motel. He should share this information with Jude, since he wanted to solve this case before people started dying. Or, in what would be a bad move for the paranormal community, the humans set up cameras to capture the creature.
No. He was not going back. Jude was trouble. And he was full of shit. Who rocked into town and blamed the first shifter they fell over without even asking questions? Was this Jude’s first job for the Coven?
Mack forced himself to return to his truck. The tug in his gut got stronger with each step. Just lust, he kept reminding himself. And he’d take care of that with one hand when he got home.
He got into his truck and sat for a moment. He was breathing far too hard for the short distance. Had Jude’s lips been poisoned? Or was it simply that he was furious and filled with unsated desire? He was an idiot and he couldn’t blame it on too much to drink.
He’d been suckered in by a pretty face and a deadly smile. Then he’d been dumb enough to walk over and hope that something might happen. And he still wanted the man passed out on the floor of his motel room. Thoughts of Jude consumed him on the drive home.
At least one of them would get some sleep tonight.
Jude’s hip pressed into something hard. He blinked and tried to wake up. His face hurt, and as he opened his eyes, Jude realized he was lying on the dodgy brown carpet of the motel room. Eww. He pushed himself up and regretted the movement immediately. His head pounded like his brain was trying to escape.
He hauled himself onto the bed and flopped back down. That was better.
It took a few more minutes, maybe longer for him to unscramble how he’d ended up on the floor. He’d been about to zap Mack, but they’d fought, and Mack had hit him before he’d been able to get a big enough charge together.
He tested his jaw. It wasn’t broken, just tender.
He’d failed to catch the rogue shifter, but he was alive. Which made no sense at all. Why would a rogue shifter leave him alive? Mack could’ve pulled him apart and redecorated the room with some scarlet
