Rapture Untamed (Feral Warriors #4)

Rapture Untamed (Feral Warriors #4) Page 6

To his surprise, she turned forward again, tilting her head back until it rested against the seat behind her. For several moments, she was silent, and he thought maybe she was through with him after all. But when she began to speak, he felt transported - to a place he didn't want to go.

"Years ago, something happened for which I blamed myself bitterly, Jag. I hated myself and everything about me." Her voice was low, her words devoid of emotion.

But the emotion was there, buried so deep he felt it tugging at the hole in his chest where his heart used to be. "I let others hurt me. I practically begged them to hurt me.

At the time, I didn't understand why. It wasn't until years later that I finally figured out that my own self-hatred had sought out the punishment. It almost destroyed me. The thing is, after living with that kind of guilt and darkness, after suffering it myself, I've come to recognize it in others."

She turned back to face him. "I see it in you."

Goddess, he didn't need this shit. "I like myself just fine, Olivia."

"Do you?" She let the question hang in the air, her tone telling him clearly she didn't believe him.Damn little prissy psychoanalyst.

"The way I see it, you can't stand foranyone to like you. You need them to hate you as much as you hate yourself. So you antagonize and annoy them as your own personal form of self-punishment. Deep down, you're a decent guy, Jag. You don't actually hurt anyone - you don't break their things, you don't kill their pets. You don't even punch them in the face. Instead, you heckle them until they're the ones punching you. Until all you see in their eyes is the same deep, raw dislike you feel for yourself."

He scoffed. "You've known mehow long? How the fuck do you know I don't break the other kids' toys or twist the heads off their hamsters?"

Pamela Palmer Rapture Untamed

"I know."

Goddess, her know-it-all attitude was pissing him off.

Okay, maybe he didn't do those things, but she was wrong about the rest of it. Totally off. He wasn't a decent guy. And he wasn't some fucked-up self-hating loser. He was just who he was.

"A pretty little theory, Sugar. But I'm tired of hearing you talk."

He snatched her arm, curling his hand around her wrist and pressing his palm hard against her skin, willing his hand to heat, filling her with sensual fire.

Olivia gasped, trying to jerk her arm free even as her breasts rose, her back arching in an intoxicatingly passionate move. Her head tilted back, and he knew she was feeling the pleasure, the warm, throbbing heat all the way down.

"Now I want to hear you scream. Come for me, Red."

Her sexy little gasps tore through his senses, lifting his pulse and his blood pressure, sending that blood spiraling hard and low. Goddess, but he wanted to hear her cry out with that ultimate release. She'd been so close last night he'd almost been able to taste it.

She was so close to it again...

He didn't see the knife coming for his hand until it was too late. The steel of her blade sliced right through muscle and tendons, hurting like a son of a bitch.

The moment she pulled the knife free, he jerked his bleeding hand away. "Damn you!"

"You don't learn, do you?" But her rough, sexy voice held a hint of amusement.

He snorted. One point to the redhead. "Where in the hell did you get that kind of speed?"

He didn't expect an answer, so he was surprised when he got one. "Many Therians have gifts left over from the days when we were all shifters."

The defensive note in her tone told him he'd touched a nerve. Which was interesting, now, wasn't it?

The stinging in his hand slowly dulled to nothing as the flesh healed. When he glanced at her, he found her watching him with cool eyes. Cool eyes that throbbed with ill-disguised heat. Goddess, but he wanted her.

Even better, she wanted him.

"You know I'm going to win this game, Red. Sooner or later, you're going to spread your thighs and invite me in. You're wasting your time fighting it."

Olivia let out a long sigh. "We're both wasting our time if we're doing anything other than trying to catch those Daemons, Jag." She raked her hands into her hair, pulling the bright locks back from her face in a move that was decidedly unsettled. "It would be wise for us to remember that."

He turned his concentration back to the road, his lips twitching with satisfaction. Oh yeah, he'd gotten under her skin. As badly as she'd gotten under his.

But she was right. They did have a job to do, and the one thing he never did was shirk his duty.

There was too much at stake.

But that didn't mean this game had come to an end. Hell no. Sooner or later, she'd be begging him to give her exactly what they both wanted.

Hot, sweaty, mind-blowing sex.

Then maybe he'd finally get her out of his system. He was beginning to think that couldn't happen soon enough.

Chapter Five

By the time Jag and Olivia reached the dramatic confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers and crossed into the small tourist hamlet of Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, the sun was high in the sky, well past its zenith.

Olivia watched out the window of Jag's Hummer as they drove along the river road, enchanted by the towering cliffs rising above the rivers where Virginia, Maryland, and West Virginia converged. As many years as she'd spent in the United States, she'd never before been to this spot.

Jag pulled up in front of the small, quaint Slumber-side Motel. "Wait here while I grab the room key."

"Is this place warded?" she asked with surprise.

"No. But we'll need a place to crash come daylight."

He returned a few minutes later and drove past the small town and onto a quiet residential street, where he pulled over, parking the car.

"Now the real fun begins," he murmured, throwing her one of his patent devilish smiles as he opened the driver's door and unfolded his long frame. She was about to reach for her door handle when he opened the back door and climbed into the backseat, closing the door behind him.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, merely pulled off his T-shirt, giving her a first-class view of hard muscle, then began to unbuckle the belt of his camo pants.

"I won't be joining you back there, cat, if that's what you're thinking."

He lifted a single brow, snagging her with his sharp gaze. "I could change your mind."

She whipped out one of her knives and twirled it between her fingers. "You could try."

The grin that lifted his mouth turned bright with challenge and wide with genuine amusement. "I'm going hunting."

Perfect. Finally, the opportunity she'd been waiting for to get away from him to feed.

The full import of his words hit her, and her eyes widened.

Pamela Palmer Rapture Untamed

"You're shifting?" A small thrill caught her at the prospect of watching him shift into his animal right in front of her. The first time she saw him shift, the first time she'd ever seen any Feral shift, was that day last week when she, Ewan, and Niall had come to meet with Lyon at Feral House. Jag had shifted unintentionally - the fault of Mage magic, but it had happened quickly, and she'd been trying to ignore him at the time so hadn't been watching. This time she wasn't taking her gaze off him.

"I always used to think Ferals could keep their clothes on during the shift," she murmured. "But you can't, can you?"

"Some can. I can't. The magic steals them away." Jag lifted his knee to remove his boot.

"The only way I can catch the scent of that Daemon is in my animal. You're coming with me."

Not a chance. "I thought I'd drive around a bit, see if anything looks suspicious." She sensed no capitulation on his part. "Besides, I need to find a loo."

His gaze flicked to hers, resignation in his eyes, and she knew she had him.

"Don't go far. I can only talk to you within about a half a mile radius. I'll let you know if I pick up anything. You do the same."

Pamela Palmer Rapture Untamed

"All right." She knew Ferals were capable of telepathic communication in their animal forms. For half a mile he'd be able to communicate with her. Beyond that, the link would be broken. If she had to guess, the same was probably true of his ability to sense her feeding. Which meant the first thing she had to do was get at least half a mile away.

Jag wouldn't be pleased if he found out. She'd come up with some excuse if that happened.

Jag struggled out of his pants in the confines of a vehicle that should have been large, yet felt small and confined when filled with a male his size. She knew watching him undress would only encourage more sex talk but, pride be damned, she didn't want to miss a second of this.

With a final tug, he tossed his clothing aside and sat back, hands on knees with a rough exhalation of air.

Goddess, but he was a fine-looking male. Striping one inner thigh were four long scars, like claw marks. With a thrill, she realized they were his feral marks. Every Feral Warrior received them somewhere on his body when the animal spirit first marked him.

Her intrigued gaze slid from the marks on his thigh to the other part of his anatomy that most fascinated her. Nestled amid the brown thatch of hair in his lap, lay a fine, large penis.

Beneath her admiring stare, the thick length of flesh twitched and began to thicken.

"Like what you see, Sugar?" Jag drawled.

Her gaze rose to his, meeting hard eyes glittering with amusement and growing desire.

"The root has merit. The tree to which it's attached, not so much."

His mouth kicked up into a hard smile, his eyes beginning to glitter. "You're wanting a ride. Don't think I can't tell, Red. I can smell your heat."

She couldn't deny it. Well, she would deny it...to him. But to herself, no way. Watching him swell and grow set off a flood of damp warmth between her legs as her breasts tingled and began to ache.

"All you smell is your own conceit, Feral." But her voice sounded tight even to her own ears, and she knew he was all too aware of how much the sight of him moved her.

He watched her a good long time, the promise of challenge...and passion...thick in the air. Finally, with a snort that somehow told her he thought she was a coward, he nodded toward the steering wheel. "Keys are in the ignition." Without warning, he began to sparkle, a million colors at once, and the man disappeared. Where he'd sat now perched a perfectly shaped jaguar, the size of a house cat. His fur was darker than most jaguars', almost black on his face and legs, but the spots showed clearly through the lighter brown fur of his back and tail.

She struggled not to gasp with the excitement of watching something so rare, so magical.

"You're kind of small, aren't you?"

Bitch.She heard his voice in her head as clearly as if he'd spoken, the word trembling with laughter. As she stared at him, she realized he was growing. And fast. Inch after inch, a foot, two feet, until his length stretched across both seats, from one side of the vehicle to the other. Alarge, full-sized, jaguar.

She suddenly understood why he drove a vehicle with darkly tinted rear windows.

His tail twitched, stirring the air with the rich scent of warm fur, delighting her senses. Her pulse rose, part delight, part ancient, primal fear.

As if hearing her accelerated pulse, he swung his head toward her and gave a low growl, revealing massive jaws and sharp, wicked teeth.

Olivia jerked back toward the dash, unable to stop herself, her hand reaching for her knife.

In her head, she heard his laughter.Who you calling small ,Little Red?

She stared straight into those jaguar eyes and saw wicked amusement and keen intelligence, reminding her this was no real jaguar but simply another form of her annoying companion. Slowly, her pulse began to calm.

"Point taken, Feral. Why the mini-me?"

I can pass for a house cat when I'm smaller.

"Only to someone who doesn't look at you carefully."

His dark whiskered face bobbed up and down.I'll attract some attention. I always do.

But those who notice me will just think I'm an oddity. They're humans. What else are they going to think?

Slowly, he began to shrink again. When the animal in the back once more fit on one seat, he leaped into the front and onto her lap, his paws pressing into her thighs, his nose making a beeline for her crotch.

Smelling good,Red.

Olivia shoved his face away. "You're rude in any form, aren't you?"

Wouldn't know how to be any other way. Open the door and keep the windows down.

The Hummer's warded against draden,which also blocks my communication.

Holding his face at bay with one hand, she opened the front passenger door with her other. With a low growl of approval, the small jaguar leaped out onto the grass.

Stay where you can hear me,Olivia.

Of course, she replied, knowing full well she wouldn't.Can you hear me? Only once had she ever communicated telepathically, last week when she'd first met with Lyon at Feral House. Things had gone a little crazy when several of the Ferals had shifted unintentionally, and Lyon had pushed a request for the Therians' help into her head.

But she'd never tried to speak to someone telepathically herself.

I hear you loud and clear.

A horrible thought occurred to her. If he could hear her thoughts,could he read her mind? Real fear banded around her chest, squeezing her lungs.

Jag?

What is it,Olivia? he demanded, his voice sharp.

She must have communicated her fear, dammit. Calm down, calm down, calm down.

I was just wondering how this works. How many of my thoughts can you hear?

She heard his chuckle in her head.Worried I'll learn all your secrets ,Little Red? The lazy drawl was back.