I might be wolf, and I might be so very easily attracted to a good-looking man, but what this particular man was projecting wasn't natural. It was too overwhelming. Not even a male werewolf using the full strength of his aura could create this sort of reaction in me. Not if I didn't want it to.
But I had reacted like this several times before—with Talon, who'd been lab-made by Starr's father. Obviously, given the heated desire boiling around me and his feline features, this man had werelion in him rather than lion-shifter. Shifters—even wolf-shifters—didn't possess this sort of aura. It only came with those who were forced to shift shape on the rise of the full moon. It was her gift to us, if you will.
Or curse, as many shifters and humans seemed to think.
Only I didn't actually think he was a part-breed, or a even clone like Talon, nor did I think he was he a lab-born crossbreed. I think he was something else entirely—and someone I had been warned about. A human who, while still a fetus, had undergone several procedures that involved cross-planting DNA from shifters and weres to enhance reflexes and senses. According to Misha, the experiments started by Starr's predecessor had finally been successful, but one of the side effects was an overdeveloped sex drive and an aura to match. And given Starr's lieutenants were apparently the end result of such experiments, I was betting this man was one of them. There was too much authority in his expression, and in the way he stood, for him to be just another guard.
If it was Leo Moss, I had to tread carefully. Misha had warned that Moss and his counterpart, Alden Merle, weren't exactly chummy with sanity, and the last thing I wanted was to get in their bad books straightaway. But by the same token I didn't want to seem too submissive, if only because the unattainable often held the interest longer than the easily gained. I needed to hold their interest until either Rhoan or I got Libraska's location. Killing Starr and tearing down his cartel would be useless otherwise. Someone else would just step into the breach, and keep producing nightmares.
The stranger walked toward me. I resisted the urge to step away. The nearer he got, the more my skin burned, and it wasn't just the intensity of his aura. There was madness in his eyes, in the very feel of him—as if his spirit, his soul, was infected with death and decay.
I licked my dry lips, saw his gaze follow the movement. Saw the flame of desire burn darker in his gaze. It was almost hypnotic, and it took a lot of effort to pull my gaze away, to look down.
Which is when I saw the fine down of hair covering his skin. It was silky, shiny, more like a small cat's than the coarser texture of a lion's coat. My fingers itched with the need to feel it, but I had to wonder if the hair covered all his bits. I wasn't into fuzzies when it came to that.
He stopped within arm's length. I crossed mine, feigning indifference when every inch of my skin trembled with desire and every sense was urging me to turn and run from this foul thing. "So who are you when you're home?"
A smile twisted his lush lips, but it held a hint of arrogance that provided a whole lot of reinforcement to my resistance of his aura. I might be a wolf and technically easy, but no one should ever think they could have me without at least a little effort involved.
"I'm the man you'll be spending the night with."
A shiver ran down my spine at the thought—even if that was what I was sent here to do. "Really? And why is that?"
"Because I want you."
"So? I can pick and choose who I wish to be with, and I sec no reason to do so now when I haven't seen the other goods on offer." I let my gaze run down his length. If he wanted me now, it wasn't actually showing through his pants. But then, I fooled around with a stallion, so everyone was small in comparison.
"Have you read the small print on the contract?"
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"
"Because if you had read it, you'd know it states that while it is mandatory the winner spends the night with Starr's lieutenants, said lieutenants can also choose to spend the night with someone other than the winner, and he or she will comply."
And Jack had said it was a standard contract. I'd like to see what he termed a nonstandard contract. "I think you people are making these things up as you go along."
He produced that arrogant smile again. "Then I shall have another copy of the contract delivered to you. I suggest you read it more thoroughly." He looked me up and down again, and again I reacted with the intensity of a bitch in heat. If he'd have dropped me to the ground and screwed me senseless right there and then, I wouldn't have cared. Kade might have, but not me.
Of course, my reaction afterward would be an entirely different matter. And one that would involve many showers and much soap.
But Moss didn't push the matter, just stepped back. The blast of his aura and lust abated, allowing me to breathe properly again.
"I shall have you brought to my rooms after dinner."
"Joy."
He raised an eyebrow. "Sassy. I like that."
"I couldn't give a damn what you like."
"Oh, you will. You surely will." He gave me a nod, then moved on, quickly disappearing into the trees.
I took a deep, relieved breath, then glanced around as Kade approached. "Wait here. I'm going to follow him."
"That's danger—"
"Is it usual for Moss to be roaming at this hour of the day ?"
"Not that I know—"
"Then we need to know what he is up to."
I turned and walked into the trees. Moss's scent hung in the air, though it wasn't actually a smell as much as a teasing touch of heat, desire, and foulness. Now that I thought about it, the man didn't actually have a scent. Maybe it had been bred out of him.
I padded through the shadows, keeping close enough to follow his non-scent, to hear the soft crunch of leaves under his shoes. I was naked, my steps lighter, so hopefully I wasn't making enough noise for him to hear me. But given his senses were supposedly heightened, I had to be extra careful.
Especially since the forest itself was quiet. There were no bird calls, no fluttering of wings, not even the irritating songs of insects. I hadn't noticed it before, but then, I'd been wholly occupied with the prospect of satisfaction. Now, though, it struck me as odd. Eerily so.
We walked for a good ten minutes through the strange hush before I noticed the steps ahead had stopped. My heart just about leapt into my throat. God, had he heard me?
I paused in the shadow of a pine and listened intently. The only thing to be heard was the galloping of my heart. I took a deep breath, trying to cairn my nerves, then slowly padded forward. The pines and gum trees seemed to close in, and the shadows thickened. Even the air seemed cooler, less welcoming.
His weird non-scent no longer rode the air, but the traces of Moss's passing—the faint disturbance of leaves and twigs—provided a tangible trail. At least it did until it disappeared.
I stopped and looked around. No smell, no trail, nowhere he could have gone.
The damn man had just vanished into thin air.
Chapter Seven
Which was impossible, of course. If Moss had shifted shape, become a bird, I would have heard the flap of wings. The forest was too still, too quiet, and the sound would have carried. And if he'd become something else there would have been a trail to follow. Hell, even a vampire couldn't help leaving signs of his passing in the lush undergrowth of the forest floor. Not that a vampire could have disappeared like that in the middle of the day—unless, of course, he was some sort of day vampire, able to use the daylight to hide his form the same way a regular vampire can use the night and the shadows.