Lifemate Connections: Eryn

Chapter Seven

The big man with black hair and bay-colored skin didn't even blink. "What are you blabbering about, woman?"

"That man." She waved a raised hand toward Grey, ensuring her skirt rode up a little bit more as she did so.

Damn, that's a mighty fine thatch your flashing there, came Grey's comment. But I do wish you'd stop flashing it at all and sundry.

It's my thatch, and I'll damn well flash it where I want.

She hesitated, then said softly, God, you look like shit. To the guard, she added, "Is he the man Marshall wants treated?"

I'm far better than I look. Marcia didn't seem to want to cause me serious damage just yet. And I can see I'm going to have a lot of trouble keeping your wilder tendencies all to myself.

She hid her smile and kept her gaze on the guard. Hunger flickered in the shifter's dark eyes, but there was no other reaction. "What do you mean, treated?"

"What do you think I mean?" She allowed a saucy smile to touch her lips, and lowered her voice a notch. "There's more than one way to kill a man, you know. And some of them can be both delicious and extremely, extremely, painful."

He frowned. "I don't know anything about this."

"Then call Marshall and confirm it, because my time is expensive, and I don't think he's going to be happy if we stand here wasting it."

The big man continued to stare at her, the gun in his hand unwavering. "I think I might. I don't like the feel of this."

"Fine. Shoot me or call him. Your choice. Just do something because my arms are getting a little tired hanging here above my head." She wriggled her fingers, making the skirt rise and fall again.

He was a man. His gaze wavered briefly, and the heat in his eyes grew. Though his heat was nothing compared to the furnace running through her mind.

"I believe he should be at Dan's diner right about now," she continued, "waiting for his next… er… date. If you hurry, you should catch him before he gets down to business with her."

Marcia has a meeting with you?

I have twenty minutes to get there. Which left her five minutes to free Grey, and no time to play with this guard.

You can't meet with him.

I not only intend to meet with him, but I intend to stop him.

Not alone, you won't.

The guard frowned. "How do you know all that?"

"Maybe the fairies told me," she said dryly.

"He's paying you?"

"Big dollars for a few hours work." She arched an eyebrow, letting her gaze slide slowly down his well muscled form. "If I hurry just a little, shifter, you and I might be able to have a little fun before the boss gets back."

He lowered one weapon and raised the other. Even from where she stood, it was obvious the rumors about horse shifters were true. Man, he was big.

Too big for her liking.

"Is that a yes?" she added, staring pointedly at his erection.

"I can't see how you'd know what you know if you weren't on the books," he said. He pointed his chin at Grey. "What do you intend to do?"

"Oh, lots of delicious things." She lowered her arms and lightly slapped the whip against her leg. "I usually work alone, but an audience might add to the fun. You want to watch?"

I thought the idea was to get him out of the room?

The idea is to getting him so aroused by what I'm doing to you that he's not thinking straight, enabling me to get close enough to Taser him unconscious.

Hang on, say that again? What you're doing to me? What exactly are you going to do to me?

I'm not going to let this outfit go to waste, that's for sure.

His brief smile shimmered through her mind. Remember, what you do to me, I shall do to you.

And, oh, she couldn't wait.

She tried to calm the excitement racing through her veins and said to the guard. "Why don't you drag that box you were sitting on over to that corner there?"

She pointed the whip to the corner to the right of Grey. It put the man more in front than on the side, and would keep him from seeing the Taser tucked into the back of her skirt.

"Sounds fine to me." His voice was a little roughened by desire, and she smiled, feeling better about herself than she had in months. At the very least, the last few days had proved that, despite the sexual drought, she'd lost none of her allure as a woman.

She waited until the guard had positioned himself, then strode over to Grey.

I have never seen a sexier walk, Grey commented, smoky eyes gleaming with amusement and desire.

Hush. You're supposed to be dreading what I'm about to do.

When you're looking like that? Darling, no man would be capable of dreading what's coming.

The endearment made her heart do an odd little jig. She stopped in front of him, and pressed the whip lightly against his balls. "It seems the victim desires me."

The victim knows exactly what you're capable of, and hungers for more.

She flicked the whip upwards, lightly striking his shaft. He jumped, even though he had to know she would never hurt him.

"By the time I'm finished, this will strain and quiver to sink itself into my flesh, and you will be so mad with desire you would rip out your heart if that is what I want."

Definitely. Aloud, he said, "Lady, you kid yourself."

His voice was a harsh croak, so different from the warm richness of the voice that flowed through her mind.

She glanced at the guard, eyebrow raised. "Do you think I'm kidding?"

"I think you're capable of anything." He settled back against the wall, arms crossed and obviously ready to enjoy the show. "And I don't believe you gave him permission to speak."

"You are so right." She returned her gaze to Grey. "He needs to be punished."

"Do your damnedest," Grey said flatly, his eyes gleaming with cheeky challenge.

You'll regret that. It's just a shame I have to hurry. She ran the whip up and down his cock. "I could strike this until to you bleed, but that would lessen my fun and shorten proceedings a little too much. Perhaps, then, I should try a gentler form of punishment."

"Perhaps you should," the guard agreed eagerly. "Make him experience pleasure, then make him watch someone else achieving the pinnacle he is denied."

Now there's a self-serving suggestion if ever I've heard one. She looked back at Grey. "That's sounds like an excellent idea."

His amusement flooded her mind. As long as you promise me the pinnacle later, he said, I can endure a long foreplay.

Done deal. She dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth, moving him up and down as she turned to the guard and held his gaze. His nostrils flared, and his breathing quickened, as he undoubtedly imagined her doing the same to him. Arousal and desire stung the air, so thick every breath was filled with it.

As the salty taste of Grey's semen began to touch her taste buds, she withdrew and rose. "You," she said, pointing the whip at the guard. "Come here."

She'd never seen anyone move so fast. "Kneel," she demanded, as he drew close.

He dropped to his knees, his eyes glowing fiercely as he stared up at her expectantly.

"Do not look at me," she added, flicking the whip across his cheek.

He looked down. She reached back for the Taser, and added, "Release yourself."

His thick groan was accompanied by the sound of a zipper being pulled down.

You men are all the same, she said to Grey. Put the little head in control, and common sense flies out the window.

Well, in this case it's understandable. You look like every man's vision of paradise.

She couldn't help smiling. Thanks. And I think I'll use that.

Feel free.

So she did. "Prepare to enter paradise," she said to the guard, then reached forward, tasering him unconscious.

"Guard number two down. It's safe to come in, Jack."

She turned once again to Grey, her gaze skating across his body, taking in all the damage she really hadn't allowed herself to fully see.

She touched a hand to the deep cut across his stomach—

one of many that decorated not only his stomach, but his chest, arms and legs. They'd all stopped bleeding, but the bruising underneath was just beginning to come out. Shifter or not, he'd be sore for days. "God, you really do look like shit."

Chain rattled as he tried to reach out and touch her. But the chains pulled him up short and he hissed in frustration.

"Damn it, all I want to do is fold you in my arms and hold onto you, and that's the one thing I can't do right now."

"Jack, bring bolt cutters with you." She rose up on her toes and brushed a kiss across lips that looked swollen and sore.

"What did she—he—do to you?"

He grimaced. "She took what I once denied her."

She touched a hand to his cheek, staring into the ethereal beauty of his eyes, seeing anger and something else, something that gave her heart wings. It was recognition of fate. Surrender to what was yet to be explored. "I don't understand."

"Nor should you, because not a lot is known about face shifters." He hesitated, taking a deep breath. "For a start, not all of us are fertile. Of the twenty that I work with, less than half the men have the ability to father children, and less than a quarter of the women. I'm fertile, as is Marcia. But the females of our race have an additional restriction—they can only get pregnant with another face shifter."

"And Marcia wanted you to father her child."

He nodded. "I told her I would not waste my seed on someone like her."

"You said that, knowing how unstable she was?"

"Yeah." He shrugged. "She wanted the truth, she got it.

She's hated me ever since."

"Did she try the other fertile men?"

"Yes. And got much the same response."

"So why fixate her hate on you?"

"Because I was her first rejection, and up until that moment, I'd been pleasant to her. She probably believed I liked her."

"So this—" She indicated the chains and his spread eagle position. "Was a way of taking advantage of you? To try and force conception?"

He nodded. "She drugged me and took your form. I couldn't help reacting."

She frowned. "How did she even know about us?"

"She was at the bar when we met." He hesitated. "You remember seeing a striking blonde holding court in the corner?"

She nodded. That was where she'd forced an introduction with Harrison. No wonder she'd caught that brief scent of death—she'd been standing mere feet away from the murderer!

"That was one of her forms. She said she also wore her true form."

Which was the dark-haired woman she'd seen in the corner booth. "I saw her talking to the last victim that night, but made the connection far too late." She hesitated. "How did she catch you?"

"She came to my hotel as you."

"How? I never touched her."

"It only has to be the lightest of touches. You probably wouldn't have even noticed."

"But you knew I was drugged."

"Yeah, but I also know that the drug can effect every shifter breed differently. I thought you'd overcome the effects and had come to give me hell." He shrugged ruefully. "As you said, when a naked woman steps into the room, the little head takes control and common sense flies out the window."

The sound of footsteps began to rattle across the concrete in the other rooms. She smiled and dropped another gentle kiss on his lips. "When this is all over, remind me to kiss the rest of your bruises better."

"When this is all over, you're going to finish what you started here," he said, dropping his gaze to his fading erection.

"Gladly," she said. "But first, let's go catch that mad hermaphrodite."

Eryn accepted the coat Jack handed her with a grunt of thanks. The night air had gone from merely bitter to freezing, and even though she already wore one coat, it just wasn't enough. Especially now that Grey's warmth no longer pressed into her back.

Her gaze roamed across the night, searching for some sign of Grey. He'd left a few minutes ago to get into position, and had disappeared into the shadows as easily as a vampire.

Obviously, there was a lot more to face shifters than anyone knew. But he'd promised to be close, promised that under no circumstances would Marcia get near enough to hurt her. She trusted that promise.

She just didn't trust Marcia.

The woman was demented, and demented minds did not think the way normal folk did.

Jack glanced at his watch. "It's time for you to get going."

She blew out a breath and nodded. The only reason Jack and his crew weren't storming the place was because everyone knew their foe might not be who they were expecting him to be. There were six people currently in the diner. Marcia could be any one of them. She might not even be wearing Grey's form—might not change until he—she—

knew for certain Eryn was going to turn up. And since Marcia was a trained operative, then she'd probably see a police charge long before they got near the building.

She buttoned up the second coat and shoved her hands into the pockets. "You'll come the minute I give the word?"

She knew he would, but she just wanted to hear him confirm it yet again, if only to calm the rising tide of nerves.

"Darlin', I'll come for you anytime you want me to."

She laughed, as he'd no doubt intended, and swatted him lightly on the arm. "One of these days, you're going to meet a woman ready, willing and able to take you up on your outrageous suggestions, and then you'll be in deep shit."

"Ah, but what woman is going to put up with her man getting his jollies spying on other women?" He shook his head in mock sorrow. "I love my work, and I'm not going to leave it, so love and me ain't ever going to be companions."

"Just wait. It'll happen." Her gaze went to the diner again.

"Okay, I'm off."

"Just be careful."

She nodded, hunched her shoulders a little, and then stepped out into the wind. It whipped around her, blowing her hair ten different directions as she trudged towards the diner.

"Evening Eryn," Dan greeted as she blew in through the doorway. "You're a little early today, aren't you?"

She struggled to shut the door, then blew her hair out of her face as she turned around. The scent of death was evident, but the ceiling fans were slowly spinning, moving the air, moving the scent. She couldn't pinpoint where that smell was coming from.

"Or awfully late, as the case may be," she said, undoing one coat as she looked over the other patrons. None of them looked familiar. None of them smelled familiar.

As they'd suspected, Marcia had come here wearing someone else's form.

"You want a coffee?" Dan asked.

"And a burger."

She made her way past the tables, taking in the scents as she did so. None of the patrons sitting there smelled of death.

Frowning, she slid into a booth next to the window, wishing there was something she could do other than simply play the helpless bait.

She crossed her arms, staring at the other customers, wondering which one of them was the fake. Marcia was here, she was sure of it, so where the hell was she? Or rather, who the hell was she?

And for that matter, where the hell was Grey? He'd promised to stay close, but there was no shiver of recognition coming from any of the people here.

So where was he, if not inside the diner?

Dan brought over her coffee and burger, and the rich smell made her stomach rumble. It was a reminder that she hadn't eaten in a long while.

"You sound pretty hungry, Missy. You want me to start cooking another?"

"My stomach can handle one," she said with a grin. "Two before I go to bed might give me nightmares."

He nodded, and she dug into her burger, relishing it even as she kept her eyes and ears open.

Three of the patrons chattered between themselves, their topic the movie they'd just seen. Two others read newspapers, and none of them looked like villains. But then, why would they? Even if Marcia was one of them, she'd been at this game long enough to look "normal."

Once she'd finished the burger, she picked up her coffee and leaned back. If not for the fact that she'd caught the whiff of evil when she'd first walked in, she might have thought this a waste of time, that Marcia had decided against coming here.

But why would she do that, when she thought she had Grey at her mercy and wanted to complete her revenge against him?

It didn't make sense. So where was she? What the hell was she waiting for?

Eryn yawned hugely. God, she was so tired—which was damn surprising after she'd slept all day. But then, she thought with a grin, if you factored in her exertions with Grey, maybe it wasn't so surprising. Either way, she definitely needed stronger coffee to keep her awake. She glanced toward the kitchen and realized Dan was watching her. Had been watching her for some time.

A chill ran through her, seeming to sap her strength in an instant.

Oh God…

She glanced at the coffee cup, at the empty plate, then back at Dan. He grinned.

Only it wasn't Dan's grin. It was something colder. More deadly.

Dan wasn't Dan. Dan was Marcia.

"Jack, get in here now," she said, only the words stuck in her throat and wouldn't come out. She thrust to her feet, the sudden movement spinning the diner around and around.

He'd put something in the food. The coffee.

She was an idiot. A complete idiot.

Dan was approaching, his footsteps seeming to reverberate through her head. There was anger in his gaze now, and something in his right hand, something he hid from the other patrons.

A knife.

A knife that flickered with blue fire under the diner's lights.

It was silver.

He couldn't get her with that knife. Couldn't lodge it in her flesh. She'd never be able to shift shape if he did.

Without really thinking, she called to her hunter soul.

Magic swept through her, but the drug in her veins was slowing all reactions, even the shapeshifting one. She smelled his closeness, heard the sweep of air even as her body gained beagle form. She dodged under the blade, felt the scrape of fire as it cut across the flesh along her spine, then launched herself at his throat.

He threw up his arms to protect himself. She latched onto his forearm, her teeth sinking deep into his flesh, the metallic taste of blood rushing into her mouth as she twisted and tore at his arm. He staggered backwards, his scream a sound of fury and pain combined.

Again the air screamed its warning. She released him, dropping to the ground, trying to dodge the blow. She wasn't fast enough by half. The blade sliced into her thigh, hitting bone and lodging there. Agony flared, running like wildfire through the rest of her body.

The woman hiding in Dan's friendly form laughed. It was a cold, cruel sound that abruptly cut off, then became an odd choking sound.

"I came here with orders to kill you, Marcia," Grey said, his voice as cold as Eryn had ever heard it. "It was something I wasn't going to enjoy until now. For touching her, for lodging that knife in her flesh, I will watch you die and I will enjoy it."

"The police are coming," the man who was Marcia gasped.

"You know the rules. Do nothing when discovery could occur."

Grey snorted. "The rules, in this case, stopped applying ages ago. Good-bye Marcia."

There was a slight hiss of air, another gargled sound, then the thump of a body hitting the ground. Then warm hands were on her and the knife removed.

Eryn?

His voice was warm in her mind, but it was far away, so far away.

I have to go. I can't stay and answer the questions your boss undoubtedly has. Not yet. Heat brushed across her forehead. A kiss so sweet and tender her heart ached. It may take a while, but I'll be back. I promise you that. Just wait for me, Eryn. Please.

Then he was gone, and all that was left was the familiar coldness of sleeping alone.