He walked across the pavement and disappeared down a side street. I took wing, following him from a safe distance, not wanting to chance the fact that an emo wouldn't sense me. I had no idea what they were capable of, and while blood vamps usually couldn't sense the heartbeat of a gull this high up, I had no idea if an emo vamp would have similar restrictions when it came to sensing emotions.
He swung into another street, his strides purposeful and long. A vamp who was sure of himself, despite the outward image he was projecting.
He went down another side street and climbed into a blue four wheel drive. I dipped low enough to memorize the plate number, then continued to follow the car. He didn't flatten his foot, so it was easy enough to keep up.
I wasn't entirely surprised when he parked two streets away from Dante's. The threads twining together our two separate murders seemed to be getting thicker and stronger.
I fluttered down to the pavement, shifting several feet from the ground and landing somewhat awkwardly, running forward before gaining my balance. At least I didn't land on my nose—that had been a common feature in the early months of my learning to fly.
My sweater survived the experience—or at least was still wearable—but my bra was, as usual shredded. I pulled it off and wished I could find a brand that actually survived the shift into seagull form. Or that Jack would approve my request to start charging the cost of replacements to the Directorate. They were destroyed in the course of my job, after all.
I dumped the silky remains in the nearest bin and followed my quarry. He headed straight for Dante's and went inside, but I stopped in the shadows a street away. I didn't want to confront either Dante's or its owner right now.
And maybe I didn't have to. Not if Kye was here, watching and waiting for his target. I might not want to see the bastard, but I'd damn well use him if it meant an end to these cases.
I turned on my heel and walked away from the building. Kye would be using the latest technology, which meant he wouldn't be close, as the receiving range on spy equipment these days was incredible.
Like most of Melbourne, the streets in this area were set out in neat little squares. I walked around them, gradually widening the search. I was a good five streets away before I felt the familiar tingle of his presence.
I stopped, scenting the night, trying to pinpoint his position. The air held little more than the smell of an oncoming storm, but it didn't matter. My soul knew where he was—all I had to do was let instinct run free.
And that was something I didn't want to risk.
I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Fully unleashing the wolf to find him would be dangerous. Her hunger for him was stronger than ever, and once I released control, I feared I might not get it back.
The simple fact was, the two parts of me were at war. And no matter which part won, I would lose.
I gnawed lightly at my bottom lip and walked forward, trying to pinpoint his location without actually unleashing the hunter. His presence was elusive—awareness of him might burn at my skin, but it just wasn't strong enough to grab and pin down.
In the end, I had no choice. It was either go into the club and face Dante, or unleash the wolf and face the man who might well destroy everything I held dear.
It said a lot about my distaste for Dante that the second of those two options seemed the better one.
I took another deep breath then shifted into my wolf form. Instantly the air came alive with a myriad of delicious scents that teased my senses and made my soul want to hunt. And the most delicious one of all wasn't actually a scent, but rather the pull of one wild soul to another.
I turned and trotted down a side street. Three houses down and I'd found him.
I shifted back to human form, then pushed open the front gate and walked up the steps. The door opened before I neared and he was standing there, his shirt and jeans undone, revealing the flat muscular plains of his stomach and tantalizing glimpses of pubic hair. I stopped, staring at him, neither of us saying anything. But his eyes were wild and hungry. The hunter in him was free; as free as mine.
As hungry as mine.
I took two steps and was in his arms. His arms went around my waist as his lips crushed mine, his kiss fierce and bruising and passionate. I groaned deep in my throat and tore off his shirt, letting my hands explore the heated expanse of his skin, reveling in the way his flesh leapt and twitched under my touch. He pushed me back against the door frame so hard I grunted in shock and pain. It turned to a gasp of pleasure as his hands thrust under my sweater and flicked my aching nipples.
He chuckled low in his throat then grabbed the edges of the sweater, hauling it over my head and roughly tossing it to the floor. Then his mouth was on my breasts, alternatively kissing and nipping, making me shudder, making me burn. I threw back my head, enjoying the sensations shaking my body, wanting it to last and yet wanting more of him. All of him.
I slid my hands down his sides, then gripped the waist of his jeans and boxers and thrust them down. He kicked free of them, his mouth moving from my breasts to my lips, his hunger even more fierce as his hands fumbled with the button of my jeans then pulled down the zipper. My jeans and panties quickly joined his on the floor. He pressed his body hard against mine, until it felt like the heat and hardness of him was covering me as securely as a blanket.
Then he opened his eyes, and for one brief moment our gazes locked. And deep beneath the hunger in his golden eyes, deep beneath the heat that made them glow like fire, there was both anger and determination. And a need just as intense.
Heaven only knows what he saw in my eyes.
He grabbed my arms and thrust them above my head, holding them secure in one large hand while he lifted my butt with the other. Then he rammed himself into me, and it felt so good I slammed my head back against the wall and howled.
This was no gentle mating. His movements were hard, rough, his body pummeling mine, hitting the right spot again and again, until I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only feel. And oh god, it felt good. I came, hard, a scream of pleasure tearing itself from my throat and sounding suspiciously like his name.
He came just as hard, his body jerking as his seed shot into me, his face twisting as if in agony.
Then it was over, and the pleasure began to fade, until there was nothing left but sweat, the battle for breath, and the horrid realization that no matter what excuses I'd given myself, I'd come here for this.
I might blame the wolf, but the wolf, like the vampire, wasn't the sum of me.
And if there were two parts of me at war, then it wasn't the wolf and the vampire, but rather heart and soul.
Right now, locked in this man's embrace, I wasn't sure which part of me would win.
Or which part I wanted to win.
And that was a scary thought.
"Well," he said, amusement briefly touching the corners of his eyes as he tucked a stray strand of sweaty hair back behind my right ear. "That certainly gave the neighbors something to talk about."
I glanced across the darkened street, and saw that we did indeed have watchers. Normally I wouldn't mind, but for some weird reason, this time I did.
Maybe part of me was ashamed of my actions.
I pressed my hands between us and pushed him away. He resisted for a moment, then smiled and stepped back.
"Why are you here?" He turned around as he spoke, stepped over our clothes and walked naked down the hall.
My gaze drifted to his butt, then I shook my head, grabbed my clothes and followed. "Do you still have your bugs in at Dante's?"