Clark Honsterott woke from a brief nap in his uncomfortable hotel bed. Despite the fact that her brother was already dead, Cici offered to allow him and his wife to stay in her guest house. He refused because of his ‘special’ life circumstances. Cici loved him, but she didn’t push for further information. He was glad. Otherwise, he might have had to kill her. Now, he didn’t have the option of staying there. She had a lycan under her roof. Of course, Cici wasn’t aware of this when she told Jenna she could stay. Then again, he was certain Jenna wasn’t a lycan when she first came to town. Clark was sure last night was the first time she transformed, which left a question. He knew who turned her. And he knew where he lived, had known for over three hundred years. It was time for him (and Sophia) to hunt for another type of game, a foe. He had an idea where to begin.
As he remembered his change to his grand immortal form, he laughed. He also laughed about the role Lydia Blount played in his new gift and resurrection. From that day forward, he never shared the gift until he met Callie. She was definitely his type and he loved her red hair. At first, he thought of her only as a prey item. They could have some fun before he fed. However, when they had sex, something happened. He realized he liked her. He wasn’t certain that his immortal heart was capable of love, but it was definitely suitable for lust.
Thinking about Jenna made him remember how he came to be. Clark was fresh out of law school. As a student, he was famous for being a partying fool. A friend of his invited him to a graduation bash. At first, he wasn’t interested. There was a girl living three doors down that he had been trying to screw for a month or more. She was attracted to him, had even begun to flirt. He knew it was only a matter of time before she was his. He thought seriously about telling his friends to forget the party. However, he happened to see her in the laundry room after he had gone down to do his own. She was beautiful, tall, and had a gorgeous mane of chestnut brown hair. Clark wasn’t particularly picky about a woman’s hair color. What he loved about them was their lips. He had a thing about them. They must be full, kissable, and willing to do with them exactly what he wanted.
Her name was Iris. He wasn’t crazy about that, it sounded stodgy and old fashioned, but she was as pretty as the flower that inspired her name. Oddly, she actually smelled like one. For a while, he farted around with his clothing, sorting it, arranging his cleaning agents, and basically tried his best to see if she would notice him before he had to go through the trouble of noticing her. That was another part of his game. He never blatantly showed his interest. He waited for the woman to make the first move. Clark Honsterott was not one to beg. Ever. Women were made to be that way, not men.
It worked after forty-five minutes or so. Iris looked over at him and smiled. Acting uninterested, he smiled back. She then began a line of silly small talk. Clark engaged with her, speaking of inane topics that didn’t matter. When he assumed she felt quite comfortable, he asked her to attend the graduation party. She didn’t hesitate before accepting his invitation. Almost immediately, Clark was certain she would be in his bed tonight.
They attended the party, which was a usual event. People got drunk, danced, and had anonymous sex in the back bedrooms. Clark and Iris did some drinking without participating in the other activities going on. The two of them were there no more than two hours before she suggested they leave. It was fine with Clark. After all, he was bored and ready to score. Oh yes. Clark Honsterott considered himself something of a stud. No one could tell him otherwise. If they did, he simply assumed they were jealous of his score card. It was quite full.Innocently, Clark asked Iris if she would like to come back to his apartment for a night cap before they went their separate ways. She accepted, as he expected, and they were on their way. Once at his apartment, they had a couple of drinks and exchanged pleasantries about the party, their future careers, and other subjects Clark gave completely no shit about. All at once, totally out of left field, Iris threw her glass aside, not flinching at the crash it made as it hit the tiled floor. Clark slightly jumped in his seat. Before he had a chance to speak or breathe, Iris straddled him. Within moments, their clothing was shed, and they had the most mind numbing sex he ever had.
Clark was a wild man in bed and he usually initiated everything. He liked to lick, suck, nibble, and bite. That night, Iris took charge. She completed acts on him that he always demanded in bed and more. He couldn’t believe his luck. The only thing that startled him was how hard she bit him. She left bite marks over most of his body. One bite was particularly painful. It was millimeters below his navel, which left a bloody mess. This totally irritated him. He didn’t mind freaky sex, but when a woman hurt him, he was ready to send the bitch packing.
Just as he was ready to jerk her up and catapult her ass out into the hallway without her clothes, she smiled at him. Sickly, her teeth were slightly stained with his blood. This angered him more than anything a woman had ever done to him. It was at that moment when he realized something way out of place. Her canine teeth appeared longer. Was he drunk? Was he hallucinating? He knew it could not be possible either way. When he was ready to go to bed with a woman, he ensured he was nevertoo drunk. Too much booze and erections didn’t go together. Every man knew that.
“Now you’re truly mine,” she had whispered. “You fuck much too hard to become my prey.”
Shocked, he didn’t know what to do. This could not be real. There was no way. Perhaps he had been lusting for Iris so long he had lost his freaking mind. He remembered pushing her away. She sat on the floor, hugging her legs close to her body, and laughed as if she had heard the funniest joke ever told. Clark stared down at her, barely feeling the blood seeping from the worst wound on his body. Crazily, he watched Iris as her tongue swiped the blood off her lips. There was some on her fingers, and she sucked them clean as if it were chocolate.
“What the hell have you done?” He demanded. “If you do not leave, I’m calling the police.”
“Go ahead,” she challenged. “In a moment, you will change your mind.”
Clark didn’t know what to do. He was so confused his mind didn’t seem to want to work. He looked down at the wounds she left on his body. Like a cheesy special effect in a B movie, he watched as the blood seeped back into him in reverse. The wounds healed completely then. His heart came to a stop and his breathing followed suit. Within seconds, he was on the floor. After a few moments, he took a great, gasping breath and his body began to convulse. When the process came to a sudden halt, he saw Iris standing over him, her hands on her hips. There was not one drop of blood on her.
“You have become like me,” she told him. “You are now an immortal, wonderful hardros. Nothing will ever be able to kill you unless they learn the secret. Come into your own, and you will learn. We can be mates for eternity, Clark.”
As she peered down at him, he felt his teeth changing. Not only were his canines growing long and sharp, his other teeth grew edged, ready to sever a vein. He didn’t understand the sublime gift Iris had given him. What he had become meshed with his DNA and became one with his anger. Clark Honsterott was an angry man, every morning when he awoke, every night when he slept. Iris wanted a partner. What she had succeeded in doing was unknowingly making an enemy. As she whispered, he learned the secret. Blood lust was borne into them. The history of his kind rushed into his brain. He couldn’t believe the strength he now had inside him.
The way to kill his kind was easy enough. It wasn’t much of a secret, but it was so simple that an intelligent person wouldn’t immediately think of it. No one believed in immortals, so no one would think to kill them. He knew he could now move almost at the speed of light, but he didn’t take advantage of that. Instead he moved slowly, bringing himself to his feet without looking away from Iris’ glowing golden eyes. Her lovely canines were still extended, her other teeth razor sharp and exposed. She wouldn’t see it coming, because she longed for a mate. Unlike most immortals, their kind could reproduce. What she didn’t realize was that despite Clark’s current status, no woman would tie him down.
Clark was on Iris before she could flee. He sank his teeth into her left wrist, her vulnerable spot. Iris tried to fight him away, but it was no use. This move alone was the one way to kill their kind. Once his teeth were in her flesh, it was over. She lost all her immortal strength. She came down to her knees first with Clark’s teeth hanging onto her for dear life. He drank in her life’s blood as if he were sucking soda through a straw. The taste was sweet, appealing, instantly making him want more. Oh, the joy of it!
Iris’ face began to turn gray. She suddenly fell away from Clark, causing him to lose his grip on her wrist. He stepped back with a smile on his face, proud of what he had done. Fascinated, Clark watched as her body began to shrink and waste away. Before his eyes, this beautiful woman became something that resembled a mummy. She continued to shrivel moment by moment. After twenty minutes, her body was nothing more than a pile of dust. It resembled the matter left behind after skin exfoliation.
Clark couldn’t believe his eyes. Just a short time ago, he was having sex with her. Now, she was no more than a mess on his floor. Coldly, he spread out the flakes of skin, grabbed his vacuum, and took care of what was left. He didn’t care if anyone suspected him of killing Iris. He could lie about seeing her. If a police officer tried to kill him, what could happen? If he got shot, he could play dead long enough, couldn’t he? Then he would walk away a free man.
As he remembered his change to his grand immortal form, he laughed. From that day forward, he never shared the gift until he met Callie. She was definitely his type and he loved her red hair. At first, he thought of her only as a prey item. They could have some fun before he fed. However, when they had sex, something happened. He realized he liked her. He wasn’t certain that his immortal heart was capable of love, but it was definitely suitable for lust.
The more time he spent with her, the further in lust he fell. He began to understand why Iris wanted a companion. As silly as it sounded, eternity would surely be a lonely place. Who was left in his life? Cici. She had been his sister, who had a husband and daughter. It might be harder for her to share his eternity. He could easily turn her family; he wouldn’t. He then decided to put on a show for Callie. She was the kind of girl who would love it. And at first, she did.
She told him of her brother the cop. That didn’t bother either of them at first. What he didn’t count on was the fact that his lover had a conscience. She couldn’t imagine killing someone. He tried to tell her it was no different than what a lion does to a gazelle. It wasn’t killing for the sport of it. It was for the need to sustain them. Yet, he kept it to himself that he thoroughly enjoyed killing. From the second day that Callie lived as an immortal, she began searching for a way to reverse it. He definitely wasn’t against it. When she cured herself, he was close to killing her. He almost managed, but somehow she got away. Now, though, he knew where she was. Soon, it would be time to stop her, and stop her he would.
As he knew, there were other immortals floating about. None so far were like him. He assumed they were in Europe. It was easier to find prey there, to get away with murder. Here, it was quite trickier. Cici’s friend was a lycan. Someone had obviously turned her, so another was close. Of course, he being a shape shifter didn’t help matters when he hooked up with a woman who bit him as she climaxed. After that, he had to fight for control over his own body. He shook thought out of his head. What was the most important thing was he sensed the other immortal was probably in LeVale with Callie, he was probably the man Cici had teased Jenna about knocking her up. He had missions to complete, a need for a massive amount of silver, or he needed to commit arson, or perhaps he should frame someone for murder. Either way, his enemies had to die. Lycans had heart. His kind did not. It was as simple as that. She told him of her brother the cop. That didn’t bother either of them at first. What he didn’t count on was the fact that his lover had a conscience. She couldn’t imagine killing someone. He tried to tell her it was no different than what a lion does to a gazelle. It wasn’t killing for the sport of it. It was for the need to sustain them. Yet, he kept it to himself that he thoroughly enjoyed killing. From the second day that Callie lived as an immortal, she began searching for a way to reverse it. He definitely wasn’t against it. When she cured herself, he was close to killing her. He almost managed, but somehow she got away. Now, though, he knew where she was. Soon, it would be time to stop her, and stop her he would.
As he knew, there were other immortals floating about. None so far were like him. He assumed they were in Europe. It was easier to find prey there, to get away with murder. Here, it was quite trickier. Cici’s friend was a lycan. Lynch Tackett had obviously turned her. He had missions to complete, a need for a massive amount of silver, or he needed to commit arson, or perhaps he should frame someone for murder. Either way, his enemies had to die. Lycans had heart. His kind did not. It was as simple as that.
Lynch and Hugh had a quiet beat that night. He didn’t immediately go home or finish his usual run. Instead, he drove out to Dubois County. At first, his intention was to hunt down Jenna and bring her ass home. Instead, he drove out to the area where the last body was found. He wasn’t associated with the police department there, but he was still a cop. He needed to look around, to see if there was evidence present that the cops missed. He had abilities, sensitivities, and might find something an ordinary person might have missed.
He parked his car about fifty yards away from the scene. There were other people in the area, possibly going toward a jogging trail. This area was similar to the one he frequented. He was surprised that anyone would come around, considering a brutal murder had occurred here. He wasn’t one who understood human nature at times. Most mulling around glanced at him, but considering he wore his badge on a lanyard around his neck, they likely thought nothing of it. Ignoring them, he continued on.
The crime scene tape was strung around a large area of the scene. It wasn’t unusual to leave it behind after a CSI team finished their work. He ducked under the bright yellow material and walked into the area. His heightened scenes immediately perked up. In his mind, he could see himself killing the man, as he did in his dream. It was difficult; he pushed it out and away. He kept Andy’s words in his mind as he looked around. It was a premonition, you did nothing wrong.
Although the area was small, he walked the grid, looking, feeling, smelling, and tasting the air around him. He smelled the blood, the redolence of the killer’s aftershave, which was markedly different than his own. He closed his eyes, focused on the images in his mind, and tried with all his might to see the face of the killer. He wanted to see glossy black hair so badly he could almost touch it. He didn’t. It didn’t go that far. Annoyed, he clenched his teeth and began to focus once more. He knew it was more than possible he would see Clark, because he psyched himself up to do so.
Lynch crouched down and grabbed a handful of grass. The killer was smart. He certainly knew how to clean the crime scene. Present was no DNA he could sense that was immortal. Touching the grass, he tried again to see the face of the killer. Nothing popped into his head, he only saw himself. What the hell was happening here? What the hell was he expected to do? Where the hell are you, son of a bitch? He brought himself up to his feet.
“What are you doing out here?”
He turned suddenly, focusing his eyes on a woman around thirty. She was strikingly beautiful. Her hair, dark brown, was pinned up in a tidy French twist. She was also wearing a badge hanging from a lanyard around her neck.
“I know you’re not from our department and I know you aren’t FBI,” she spouted angrily. “The only thing I do know is that you’re a cop dicking around in someone else’s playground. Care to explain before I call your superiors?”
Lynch slowly approached the woman. She struck him odd. He almost felt as if he knew her. It was impossible, but the feelings were strong. Instead of offering his hand for her to shake, he stuffed them in his pockets. They were covered with grass stains. “I’m Lynch Tackett, LeVale PD. I heard about the murder and it’s close to my backyard. I thought I would take a look and be prepared, especially since the press is hinting at a serial killer.”
She smiled. It wasn’t friendly. Instead it was sardonic, almost bitter. “Julie Lawry,” she said. “The press are nosy and usually don’t know shit. I’m the lead on this case. You shouldn’t be in someone’s yard without their permission, Tackett. I think we can handle things on our own. I’d appreciate it if you’d take a hike.”
He nodded respectfully. “I don’t mean to interfere with your investigation. I’ll get out of your hair, but if our officials decide we need to team up for this, give me a call.”
“You bet I will,” she said sarcastically. “Don’t let me catch you around here again.”
Lynch ignored her warning and made his way back to the car. He turned before he left, noticing how she moved around the area, as if she thought he stole something. Police detectives were surely protective of their crime scenes.
Julie Lawry was actually Sophia Honsterott. She sneered toward him. We shall meet again soon, Tackett. That I promise.
After Clark left her blessedly alone, Jenna tried to eat. It was no use. All she could see was the dead deer. Part of her was disgusted, the other satisfied that she had made her first kill. What the hell is wrong with me? What made it worse was that she could sense Lynch all around her. He was here, but she had no idea why other than to find her. He wasn’t a man who didn’t follow her wishes. When he didn’t immediately come to Cici’s, she was upset.
Jenna couldn’t make up her mind. She wanted to see him badly at one moment, then the next, she didn’t care if she ever saw him again. Sooner or later, she would go home and tell Lynch he had bitten her. She knew how he would react. He would want them to kill him. It surely wouldn’t solve anything. Her fantasy was simple. She would return home to Lynch, tell him she was a lycan like he, then he would make love to her, marry her, and stay alive with her, sharing their eternity. It was stupid, though, stupid and childish. It was something that might happen in a movie or romance novel. Reality wasn’t quite that simple. Damn it to hell and back, it was what she wanted. How could she convince Lynch of this?
She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Her cell phone was quite close to her. She sensed Lynch was probably on his way home by now. She was alone, she wished for some company. It didn’t matter who it was, as long as it wasn’t Clark. For a few moments, she cursed Cici for leaving her. It was like her. She was the type who would dump her friend if a boy called.
The cell phone suddenly rang, causing Jenna to jump a foot off the bed. She cried out and placed her hand over her heart. When she recovered, she grabbed it, swiped it, and put it up to her ear. “Hello,” she said. Her breath was deep and shaky.
It was Lynch. “Where are you?”
She sighed heavily. “What does it matter?”
“You know why it matters, Jenna,” he told her gently. “I want you to come home. I’m near you right now.”
She knew he was, but couldn’t tell him. “Do you not understand the meaning of giving me time? I’ve already asked you this question, you know. Go home, Keagan.”
Jenna rarely called him Keagan. Truth be told, she was the only person he actually liked hearing say it. “You don’t need time unless you truly don’t love me.”
She sighed deeply. “You bastard, you know I love you. You’ve always known.”
“Come home,” he stated emphatically. “I miss you, I need you.”
Jenna took the phone away from her ear and chewed on her lip until it was bloody and raw. What was she going to do? Her first change was over, she had taken an injection, and her lycan urges were quelled for now. What more was there to hide from? She put the phone back up to her ear. “Lynch,” she whispered huskily. “I’ll come home either tomorrow or the next day.”
He, too, sighed. “Thank you.”
One handed, she wiped a few stray tears out of her eyes. “But I…I need you, Lynch. I need you now.”
“Where are you?”
His voice was even deeper, almost raspy. Sexy as hell. Her body quaking, she gave him directions to Cici’s house. When the task was done, she said, “I love you, Lynch. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. No matter what chased you away from me, I love you. Please always remember that,” he said.
She began to cry again. She hoped that was true, she sincerely hoped so.
Jenna opened the door to Lynch no more than fifteen minutes after their phone conversation. She didn’t give him time to enter the living room. She went to him, wrapped her arms tightly about his body, and pressed her lips to his. It didn’t take long for him to react in kind. His hands went into her hair, moving through it restlessly, his mouth opening against hers, his tongue demanding entrance. She accepted it, touching it with hers, tasting him, and savoring his mint tinged breath. Her hands slid from his strong, muscled back to the firmness of his buttocks. Squeezing tightly, she pulled his pelvis forward, mashing his lower body into hers.
He broke the kiss long enough to gaze down at her. “Are you going to let me come inside?” He asked comically.
“Oh yes,” she answered huskily. “In here and in me.”
Jenna took his hand and led him inside the living room. She turned away from him long enough to close the door, ensuring she locked it as well. If Clark decided to come by, he would simply be ignored. Just before she turned to face Lynch, she felt the solid wall of his body behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and began to nibble on the delicate skin at her neck. She moved a bit to allow him access. Her hands covered his and she caressed them lazily.
He shifted his hands slightly as his fingers began working on the belt of her robe. Hers fell to her sides as he untied the sash and worked his inside her open robe. The only material between her skin and his hands was a thin nightgown. She thanked God she decided to wear something so flimsy. She moaned the moment his hands touched her abdomen, rubbing it in a sweetly slow circular motion. Oh, he was so good. They moved upward to her breasts where his fingers at first made lazy circles around each nipple before he cupped them gently in his warm hands. Seconds before she could readily respond, he grasped them firmly. In response, she pushed her bottom against him, undulating slowly. Up and down. He hissed in her ear. To give her payback, he slid his hands further down, settling them between her legs.
“If I didn’t love you much,” she whispered, “I’d hate you right now.”
“You’re one to talk,” he said, his husky voice falling in her ear.
Lynch stopped torturing her so he could remove her robe. When it was discarded haphazardly on the floor, he slowly removed the gauzy frock covering her. It landed next to her robe. Her back to him, his hands moved lazily from her shoulders down her arms where they settled at her hands. They clasped together tightly while his lips continued to assault the side of her neck. She then remembered the wound, but felt relief when she realized it healed after her first transformation. There was no evidence of it. She pushed it out of her mind so she could fully enjoy what the man she loved was doing to her.
He kept one arm around her while the other was free to do delicious things to her body. He slid his free hand down along her abdomen, slipping it further down, where it settled between her legs, mimicking the act before he successfully undressed her. This time, she parted her thighs to give him more room to move, to drive her insane. It worked. His fingers were magic. She swayed her head as his hand moved slower, then faster, then slower still until they dipped inside her. She cried out sharply and threw her head back. She wanted him to stop, desperately needed him to continue. He gently began to manipulate the utmost sensitive part of her sex.
“Lynch,” she begged. “Please don’t.”
“No, I won’t,” he said gently.
He didn’t, not until he left her a huge, quaking mess. She placed her hand atop his and held it tightly, so much so that her knuckles began to whiten. If he didn’t have a firm hold on her body, she probably would have toppled over. As soon as she recovered enough to balance her weight alone, she turned to face him. Her mouth sought his again and they shared a sizzling kiss. She actually didn’t want to take time to undress him. For her, it would be enough to unzip his pants, free him, and make love to him right here, in the same place where he had pleasured her immensely already.
This time, she broke the kiss and stepped back a few inches. Quickly, she took hold of the lanyard and lifted it over his head. Knowing how important his badge was to him, she laid it gently on the coffee table nearby. He smiled down at her as she slid her hands under his tee-shirt. He somehow knew that she wanted to rip it off him, shred it, but he didn’t have anything with him to wear home. She kept her pace steady as she pushed it to his upper chest. He moved to pull it over his head, but she didn’t let him. She pushed his hands away and finished by flinging it aside, not really caring where it landed. Her lips kissed every inch of his chest, her teeth nipping him here and there. He caressed her hair as her hands went to his belt, unbuckled it, leaving it open and dangling. Her hands went to work on the zipper of his jeans, drawing it down slowly, her fingers making slight contact with the male part of him.
Lynch stepped back just long enough to discard his shoes and socks. She didn’t let him stay away for long. She came back to him, her hands on each side of his hips where they began dragging down his jeans. She moved downward as she did so. Kneeling before him now, she took hold of the bottom of his boxer shorts, tugging gently until they joined his jeans in the pile at his feet. She looked up at him, smiling seductively, lazily.
“Are you going to let me kick these aside?” He asked amusedly.
“Uh uh,” she said with a teasing lilt to her voice. “Not just yet.”
A protest was on his lips until he understood what her true motive was. The instant her mouth was upon him, he couldn’t believe how stupid his question was. Her mouth was wonderfully warm and slippery, her tongue wickedly evil. Her hand joined her mouth, and it was his turn to slightly lose his balance, especially considering the pile of clothing at his feet.
“Jenna,” he protested. When he spoke her name, it sounded more like a moan.
Her tongue made a gentle circle at the tip of him. “I know,” she whispered against his skin.
She stood up to allow him a chance to kick the discarded clothing out of the way. After that, he went to her again. She was ready to accept his kiss. Disappointing her, he took her hand, tugging it gently.
She smiled at his question. “What a traditional guy you are. You can make love to me anywhere you want, my love.”
Shaking his head, he laughed. “I have a bad back, my love,” he replied, mocking her lightly. “The floor won’t do.”
Knowing he didn’t have a bad back, she laughed at him and pointed due north. “That way, Chief.”
They entered the bedroom together, Jenna lying down first, Lynch after. He leaned over her, propping himself on one arm as his mouth planted tender kisses along her neck, down to her chest, where they lingered at her delicate pink nipples. He suckled each tenderly as she plunged her hands into his hair. When his lips moved lower, she removed her hands from his hair and laid her arms limply at each side of her body. She tossed her head from side to side as his mouth progressed lower. He dipped his tongue into her navel, causing her to hiss loudly. Another noise escaped her that sounded close to ‘uh uh’ when he went lower. Parting her thighs, giving him room, she anticipated his next move with something like panicked desire. His tongue dipped inside her suddenly, so suddenly that her back arched severely. He touched every part of her that efficiently set her on fire. He knew this, of course, before they had even made love the first time. She released another ‘uh uh’ as she experienced a strong, shuddering release. His mouth soon filled with the taste of her sweet juices, something he could not describe to anyone if asked. However, he would probably say it was the nectar of the Gods. Dramatic, yes, but oh so true.
When he withdrew, he placed kisses along her body until his lips joined hers again. Against her, she could feel the evidence of his need and she arched her body upward against him. He groaned against her lips, in turn kissing her harder, wanting badly to devour every inch of her. He had thought after their first time making love, it wouldn’t possibly be any better. How wrong he was. This was more so intimate, not rushed, not awkward. It seemed as if they fit better than he ever thought they would. She parted her thighs even wider, urging him to come inside. He quickly obliged, plunging into her lazily, inch by delicious inch, until their abdomens touched.
Each timeless thrust sent them both higher and higher into an unknown world. Nothing mattered to either of them now. Their only thoughts were of each other, the love they shared, understanding that after all was said and done, their lives would change forever. In that moment, in their unrushed lovemaking, it completely came together for them. All the unanswered questions didn’t matter. The secrets left hidden were unimportant.
At Jenna’s release, her eyes changed to a silvery hue. Lynch did not see. She kept them closed tightly, as she felt it happening. He experienced his own seconds later. They each clung to the other, whispering words of sincere endearment, uttering their love for each other as if it would be the last time they would hear the words.
After, they lay very close together. Jenna’s head was on his chest, her finger drawing lines on his skin. “I have to tell you something, Lynch.”
“I hope it’s an explanation as to why you left me,” he said. His hand went to the back of her hair where his fingers played with errant strands. “I have been trying to figure out what I might have done or said to chase you away. Did I come on too strongly?”
She smiled sadly against his skin. “Impossible, Keagan. I think I’m the one who pursued you, not the other way around.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense, Jenna. What is it?”
She reluctantly pulled away from his warm embrace so she could look at him when she confessed. They had made love so passionately, shared a deep connection, and she was afraid she had ruined it all. “Do you remember the first time we made love?”
He smiled at her. The look on his face was that of sheer confusion. “What kind of question is that Missen Vos?”
When he spoke Dutch, it always brought a smile to her face. This time, it made her feel instantly sad. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a stupid question. You transformed, Keagan. You transformed and bit my shoulder. When you asked, I lied to you.”
The smile immediately fell away from his face. It was replaced by a worried, angered look she hadn’t seen in a very long time. “You told me…”
She placed her fingers over his lips. “I know what I told you. I couldn’t admit it, because I knew what you would do, what you would ask me and Andy to do. I left to get through my first change. I did. I’m fine, Keagan, and it’s over.”
He sat up suddenly, took hold of her shoulders, and stared down at her. “Like hell it’s over, Jenna. You’re not fine,” he growled. “You’re cursed.”
“No, baby, I’m not. I’m with you now. I’m a part of you, as we both always wanted.”
An idea popped into his head, one that he should have thought of the moment she made her confession. “I’m taking you back home,” he said. “Callie has the cure and you will be the first to take it.”
“Absolutely not, Lynch,” she said stubbornly. “If anyone deserves it more, it’s you. I won’t hear of it any other way.”
“Jenna, you’re not thinking straight. I know it’s what you’ve always wanted, but I love you too much to allow you a life like mine any longer than necessary.”
She reached up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “I value your life more than my own. No matter how you feel about it, it’s something we can do together. If her cure is real, perhaps we’ll both benefit at the same time.”
He moved his hands from her shoulders to allow them to cup her face. “How did you get through it?”
She sighed, but felt a small smile framing her lips. “It was the most painful experience I’ve ever gone through. It was like I forgot how to be human, that Iwas primarily human. I woke up around dawn…I’m almost certain I did not hurt a human. I fed on a deer.”
“Jenna, I hate myself for what I’ve done to you,” he said gently, sadly. There appeared to be tears in his eyes.
“No regrets, my love. It’s what I always wanted.”
His hands moved away from her face and slid down to hers. They grasped each others hands tightly, lovingly. “We’re in trouble, Jenna. There may be a murderous immortal walking amongst us. I have to stop him.”
Confusion was painted on her face. “Him? Are you sure?”
“I’m not completely sure of anything at this moment,” he began. “However, Callie feels as if her lover is near, and I believe her, I can’t feel him and I don’t know why. Someone is out there.”
“You never told me his name, Lynch. Who are you looking for?”
“A man named Clark.”
Suddenly, Jenna’s demeanor changed. She moved away from Lynch as if he physically hurt her. “Clark?” She questioned in shock. “Is he a tall man with glossy black hair?”
It was Lynch’s turn to gaze at her in utter shock and surprise. “How do you know?”
“He’s here, with a creepy wife named Sophia. Clark is Cici’s brother,” she said, completely jolted, rocked from her world. “I had unexplainable feelings about him, but couldn’t put my finger on it.” Bitterly, she expelled a barking laugh. “The bastard tried to hit on me.”
Sophia? Why did that name sound so familiar? It was on the tip of his tongue. However, nothing, including the name could prevent Lynch’s face to redden as the vein on the side of his neck began to pulse erratically. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”
She shook her head quickly, hoping it would calm him down. “No no, nothing like that.”
“One thing we cannot do,” he began, “is give him a clue as to who we are. I want you back home immediately. If he senses that you’re a lycan, he may try to kill you.”
She took it all in, nodding her head to show her agreement. There was nothing more that she wanted other than a trip back home. She placed her hand on the side of his face. “Lynch,” she murmured, “I’m so sorry I left, even more so that I lied to you.”
He placed his hand on top of hers. “I’m not crazy about the idea of what you did. I’m more enraged at what I have done to you. We can only forgive each other and work toward setting this right. Callie can cure you.”
She moved closer to Lynch, her lips mere inches from his. “No, baby. Callie can cure us.”
“Us,” he whispered huskily against her lips.
“That’s what I want to hear,” she told him. “Gather your energy, make love to me again, and make it all right, even if it isn’t.”
“That, I believe I can manage.”
As the two made love to each other again, they weren’t exactly alone. Although Clark was several feet away from the guest house, he had the ability to feel things, to know what was going on without being at the exact location. At first, he thought he would be dealing with one lycan, the female. Now, suddenly, there was another. How long had he been searching for other immortals? For a particular immortal?
Unlike the stupid horror movies made recently, immortals didn’t search for others so they could share cake and coffee. Most of the time, it was so they could destroy the other. His kind didn’t like others, even those like himself. He wanted to be alone, the only immortal around. There were billions of humans on this mud ball called Earth, a limited amount of them in the area where he stayed. He had killed enough in New York where it remained much too risky to stick around. The police would be looking for a killer. Hell, they probably already were. So, it was time to move, find new hunting grounds. When he found them, he wanted them for himself. Other immortals were competition for prey. It didn’t matter that neither Jenna nor Lynch wanted to use humans as prey items. Clark didn’t know this. No matter what type of immortal an individual was, they craved human blood and/or flesh, whether they admitted it or not. Those who had heart struggled with it every day. Despite that, the hunger for blood was natural and meshed in their DNA. Lycans were no different.
Tempted, he wanted to interrupt their coupling, kill them both, and go on to find Callie. Again, it simply didn’t feel right. What would Cici do if she came home to a blood bath? He had very little conscience, but if he was capable of loving anyone, Cecilia was it. If she got in his way, though, he knew he would have few qualms killing her. He didn’t want to leave his mess behind for her. Turning away, he made his way back to the hotel. Hopefully, the man would leave Jenna alone soon enough. He had a short amount of time to wipe her eternal self-off the face of the planet. When he accomplished this task, it would be time to seek and destroy the mortality of one Callie Norwood.