Hour of the Lion, Cherise Sinclair [good story books to read TXT] 📗

"No. I refused. So we‘ll keep her safe, and I‘ll wait for Tynan‘s ID and follow it up the line."

Thorson rubbed a finger across his book‘s leather binding. "This is senseless. If they wanted to kill a witness, they‘d have sent an assassin, not a team to capture her."

"Aye. But they had Lachlan bite her. They probably expect her to turn into one of us."

"Maybe we should hand her over and deflate that notion," Thorson said, knowing they‘d do nothing of the sort.

Calum‘s lips curled into a thin smile. "Indeed. And by handing her over, we might decrease their numbers by a significant amount."

"There‘s an idea. She‘s a deadly little female, isn‘t she?"

"What was she doing in your store anyway?" Calum asked, gazing out the window at the falling snow. "I thought she was leaving."

"Came to say goodbye." A pang shot through Thorson‘s heart as he remembered the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "Seemed to think she was letting Lachlan down. Apparently he‘d told her..." He closed his eyes, searching for her words, “„Tell Grandpa I gifted you...and you"re my gift"”

Calum spun around. " „Tell Grandpa I gifted you" He said that just before he died?"

"That‘s what she—" Thorson halted as the words took on a different meaning. He pulled in a shocked breath. "Could the boy have performed the Death Gift?"

Silence. After a minute, Calum rubbed his face wearily. "She said he got confused at the end and was babbling. But the ritual to an outsider might seem—"

Thorson finished. "Like the lad was out of his head. Earth, Air, Fire, Water. You think she‘s one of us?"

"If she is, she‘s hiding it well. The little female appears to have more secrets than a pixie has winter stores. I believe it is time to unearth some of those acorns."

*

Vic blinked awake and assessed the situation. No gunfire. No murmur of voices. Soft blankets under her, more piled on top, and only her nose exposed. All warm and snuggly. Her muscles ached slightly from the hike, but a good ache, as after a hard P.T.

And hey, she was still on this earth. There was no feeling like that in the world. Knowing she could have been snuffed out yesterday, but through skill and muscle and courage, she‘d won.

Yea though I walk through the Valley of Death, I shall fear no evil, for I am the baddest M-F in the valley. She grinned, stretched, the joy of being alive singing in her like a ripple of music, and she wanted to share the song.

It just happened she knew a really good way to celebrate life...

Alec lay beside her, stretched out on his back under his own bunch of covers. He‘d obviously tended the fire during the night—a big log burned cheerfully on a pile of glowing coals, and the cabin felt warm enough to slide out from her blankets and under the ones next to her. Alec‘s covers.

Deeply asleep, he didn‘t move as she snuggled up beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. He‘d discarded his jacket and wore only a flannel shirt. The buttons slipped easily out of the holes. Yeah, he really had a great chest. She ran her fingers over the hard planes, traced out the six-pack ridges of muscle on his abdomen, and followed the thin line of hair down his lower stomach. Halleluiah, he was fully erect and rock-hard.

"Good morning," she breathed out and tipped her face up to nibble at his chin.

"Mmmmh." He rolled over, flattening her under him. He smelled absolutely incredible, like the deep forest with a masculine musk all his own. She could probably tell him and Calum apart just by scent. Weird.

He nuzzled the hollow below her ear and purred his pleasure when she spread her legs to cradle him. "I can smell your arousal," he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek. His hand pressed her pussy, and a searing jolt of heat made her hips lift. "I am going to…" He stopped, his muscles tightening under her fingers. "No. I‘m not."

"What?" She rubbed her breasts against his chest and heard his breathing stop.

"By Herne, I want you, Vixen," he muttered. He kissed her, long and slow and deep. But then, with a low curse, he pushed himself away and stood up.

She stared up at him. What had just happened?

"Listen, Vix." He put a hand on her shoulder.

"Nah." Obviously he didn‘t feel the same as she did. Fine. The ache of his rejection hurt though, and she turned her face away so he couldn‘t see. "No worries. I just woke up feeling horny. No big deal."

"Uh-huh." He knelt on one knee beside her. "Considering how much I want to grab you, strip you, and bury myself inside you, you‘re not the only one aroused."

His words took her breath away. She sat up, clasped her hands together to keep from reaching for him. "But—"

He stroked a hand down her hair, and she looked at his intent green eyes, so clear it seemed as if light shone through them. "I‘m a shifter, and you‘re human. It‘s extremely bad judgment to get involved. Hell, Daonain are almost never attracted to humans—the scent is wrong or something. Only yours isn‘t, dammit."

"But we...did it before. Remember? The Wild Hunt party?"

"Let‘s just say that your appearance at the Gathering was more than my self-control could bear."

Yeah, that made sense considering all the screwing going on that night. The sex-laden atmosphere had messed with her head too. "Go on."

"So, although an occasional encounter is overlooked, shifters don‘t get involved with humans. We—I am very close to caring for you more than I should," he said with a wry smile.

He leaned his forehead against hers. "And I want you so badly I‘m shaking. Let‘s not sit here and chance temptation."

She was very willing to give in to temptation, but could see it would cost him. In a funny shifter way, Alec was a highly moral