His Darkest Hunger Page 11

  Without much success.

  She gained her footing and faced him with a bravado he knew she didn’t feel. He had to give her credit. She was finally regaining some of the spunk that had attracted him to her in the first place.

  “I’m leaving now.”

  Her voice was small, and the anguish she felt was laced throughout her words. “I don’t know what I did to you and the others…” She paused again, struggling to maintain her composure. “I can’t say I’m sorry for something I don’t remember, but if I hurt you in the past, there must have been a reason.”

  He turned on his heel and walked toward the forest, flinching at the hoarsely whispered words that followed.

  “There has to be a reason.”

  He stalked through the trees, ignoring the shrieks and alarm that rent the air as two blue jays and a host of sparrows heralded his approach. For an animal known for its ability to hunt and stalk its prey with silence and stealth, he was doing a poor job melting into the local habitat, but he didn’t give a shit.

  His body trembled with anger. He was furious, and as he glanced down at himself, the lines around his mouth whitened even more. He snarled savagely; his dick was still hard as hell. It ached painfully, begging for release and the warm softness it had been denied.

  Onward he marched, each large step taking him farther into the wilderness that surrounded his brother’s cabin. It was quiet here, peaceful. A place that in the past had been able to soothe his spirit and free his mind of all the crap his world was constantly throwing at him.

  But no more.

  Would he ever be free from her betrayal? Would he ever be free from the want and need that ate at him? That was the question that confused him most and, if he were truthful, scared the crap out of him.

  He was a jaguar. He lived for the hunt and loved the work he did at PATU. He’d decided long ago that he would not take a mate. Most jaguar shifters didn’t settle on one woman.

  Bitterly, Jaxon thought of his father. He certainly hadn’t.

  But he was a true jaguar warrior, which set him aside from the common shifters, like his older brother and his father.

  Jaguar warriors mated for life. It was part of their genetic code.

  It was the reason his mother, who was a rare female warrior, had stayed with his father even though he’d betrayed their bond over and over again.

  The now elderly Castille had married his mother and fathered three sons. He’d spent the bulk of his younger years expanding an empire that even by today’s standards was considered impressive. Blue Heaven Industries was a multifaceted company that dabbled in both military and communications, and it was a major bone of contention that he was not at his father’s side along with his brother Julian.

  But then again, Julian hadn’t been born with the warrior tattoos that both he and his younger brother had. Tattoos that at times seemed almost a curse. To be a jaguar shifter was one thing, but to be born a warrior was something else entirely.

  The need to fight and to hunt was a constant that burned beneath his skin. Regular jaguar shifters had always existed, but the warriors came into existence because of dark magick used by the ancient Aztecs. They succeeded in creating the ultimate predator, and the genetic code had been passed down through centuries.

  Jaxon continued on, mindless of direction, only wanting the painful need that clawed at him to go away. He wasn’t sure when his senses started screaming at him, but he noticed it as he stepped into a small clearing, deep into the brush, and discovered the remnants of a fire.

  Quickly, he scanned the perimeter as his body remained still. He scented the air, pulling in many different smells that his olfactory senses were able to pick apart in seconds.

  He knew there was a carcass, half decomposed to his left, just under the brush—animal, not human. He also knew that a shifter had lingered here, but vacated, probably within the last day or so. The signature was jumbled, and he was certain some sort of agent was used to cover its exact origin. Whether that agent was human or a result of magick, he couldn’t be sure. But he did know one thing: the act of hiding one’s origins was something an enemy would use.

  He growled low in his belly, senses high at the thought of a hunt.

  “Damn, Jax! By the looks of things, I’d say you were happy to see me, but since I’m your brother, I’m really hoping that’s not the case.”

  Jaxon’s tense muscles deflated in an instant, and luckily for him, that included the large one that had been standing at attention between his legs. He kept absolutely still, his enhanced senses quivering, and at just the right moment jabbed his left hand out to the side, feeling a keen sense of satisfaction when he connected hard with the flesh of his younger brother’s chest.

  He heard a soft thump as his brother hit the ground, and he whirled around, crouching low, a wicked smile playing across his features.

  He hadn’t seen Jagger in almost six months. They’d hooked up when Jaxon had returned to the States briefly, but since then he’d remained incognito. Jaxon was hoping to run into him at some point, considering the cabin belonged to him, but when he arrived last night, it was obvious the place had been deserted for quite a while.

  His brother rubbed the back of his head gingerly as he slowly gained his feet. “I should have downed you ten minutes ago. I would have too, but seeing as certain parts of your body were a little vulnerable, I thought it best to give you a chance to wind down. I mean, that thing looked so rigid I was afraid it would snap in two.” He cracked a grin of his own. “My mistake, but it won’t happen again.”

  Jaxon stared at his brother, noticing a hardness that gripped the features so like his own. Jagger was taller then he was, by a couple of inches, putting him at six-foot-six, his frame powerful and deadly. He had followed in his older brother’s footsteps and gone into the military, much to their father’s dismay, and done several tours of duty in Iraq.

  All black ops, all deadly; the kind of missions a jaguar craved.

  Something had happened over there. Jaxon wasn’t sure exactly what, but his brother returned from Iraq a changed man. Jagger resigned his commission when his last tour was over and had then spent the majority of his time on the road. Where he’d been and what he had been up to wasn’t something he’d shared.

  Jaxon knew his brother was finding his way. And a hard one, that was. Being a jaguar, especially one born with the warrior tattoo, was not an easy path to follow. The animal fought with the human side constantly. It was a never-ending struggle, and one that could lead to destruction if not handled with maturity and balance. Something both his father and older brother had never had to deal with.

  But he knew that his brother would be fine. Jagger was a Castille, after all.

  “I see you finally found Libby.”

  Jaxon’s head whipped up at his brother’s comment, his eyes narrowing at the mention of her name. “When did you see Libby?”

  Jagger paused, a wicked glint lighting his eyes a deeper shade of green. “Well, hell Jaxon, I’ve already had tea and cookies with her.”

  Jaxon hissed his displeasure at the thought of Jagger anywhere near Libby, and took an aggressive step toward him, stopping just short of physical action when his brother laughingly slapped him in the chest.

  “Down boy! I’m just playing ya. Christ, I haven’t been close enough to even lay eyes on her. I had just caught her scent and begun to follow it when I saw you crashing through my trees all bent out of shape and, well…” His voice trailed off, and the two brothers laughed, their voices echoing through the thick stand of trees that surrounded them.

  “So, what’s her story? When did you track her down?” Jagger asked.

  Jaxon sighed tiredly, easing his way back from the edge that had been riding him for the last couple of days.

  “I was sent intel, pointing me in her direction. She’s been in Michigan for about two months, as far as I can gather. Before that, who knows where the hell she was.” His voice thickened as the still lingering ange
r began to brew once more.

  “It was a setup. I went to Michigan, meant to put a bullet in her head, but something held me back. Instead, I deviated from protocol, went to the diner where she was working and gave some fucking bastard a nice clear shot at my ass. I took Libby, and we’ve been running ever since. They used her to follow my movements, and attacked the loft in Manhattan.” Jaxon shook his head, remembering the carnage and chaos. “We had to bail and destroy the base. We arrived here several hours ago.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “I called in Declan and Ana.”

  “I’m sure that was one hell of a reunion. It’s a wonder Libby is still alive and breathing.”

  Jaxon snarled, “She’s alive for now only because we need her.”

  Jagger moved away, his voice soft as he contemplated his brother. “You sure that’s the only reason?”

  “What are you getting at?” Jaxon was breathing hard as he rounded on his brother, his body humming with an energy that was shouting for release. He was itching for a fight, and Jagger knew it.

  “All I’m saying is you went to Michigan to take out the bitch who basically put a bullet in Diego’s brain.” He shrugged, and met his brother’s eyes dead on. “She’s still alive, and you’re walking around with a raging hard-on,” Jagger continued, even as Jaxon snarled savagely and lunged for his brother. “You do the math.”

  The two of them tumbled to the ground hard, Jagger grunting at the force of Jaxon’s hit. They both rolled toward the center of the clearing, chests heaving and curses flying. When Jaxon’s bare back slammed into the sharpened wood remains that littered the ground, he swore loudly and threw his brother off.

  They were up and facing each other in seconds, both aggressive and smiling wickedly at the joy they got out of physical sparring. Jaxon’s eyes briefly flickered over the remains of the fire, and the joy he felt left him quickly.

  He relaxed his stance and pointed out the area to his brother. Jagger knelt down and sniffed the ground. “Seems a shifter has been trespassing on my land. You recognize the scent? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

  “It’s not something I’ve come across before.” Jaxon continued to peer deep into the forest, but he knew there would be no more clues. “Whoever it was is long gone. I’d say about a day or so. I don’t think it’s connected to Libby. We only just got here.”

  Jagger was quiet, his lips tense, and Jaxon was beginning to think his brother wasn’t so surprised to see evidence of someone on his land.

  “You have any ideas?”

  His brother turned toward him, face blank and unreadable. “A few.”

  Jaxon eyed him closely. “You sure everything’s all right?”

  Jagger laughed at that. “Last time I looked, I wasn’t the one running around in the woods with a hard-on.” His grin didn’t let up even as Jaxon scowled. “Yeah, I’m good.”

  Jaxon turned and began to head back toward the cabin. “I need to get back to the house. Ana and Declan should hopefully have some answers for me. You care to come along?”

  Jagger laughed as he smacked Jaxon on the back. “So now I need an invitation to enter my own home?” He snorted as a new round of laughter bubbled up from deep in his chest. “Is everybody naked? Or are you the only one feeling the need to air out your junk?”

  Chapter 11

  Libby ran as hard and as fast as she could, not stopping until she reached the cabin. The stitch in her side ached beyond belief, and her fingers itched to massage the throbbing area, but they were busy holding the shredded remains of her top together.

  The top he had ripped apart.

  Her face flushed a deep crimson. She could still feel the imprint of his hands on her body, the roughness of them as they’d touched her flesh. She couldn’t lie to herself. She had wanted him as much as he’d wanted her, if not more. She groaned softly as she thought of his hot, wet mouth against her breast.

  When he took her aching nipple deep into his mouth, even through the material of her top she’d felt the heat began to burn bright, hard, and demanding deep within. The ache she felt at her core still throbbed, painfully unfulfilled.

  Their bodies had connected and it felt…so natural.

  As if they’d done it before.

  That thought brought her to a jarring halt just as her hand was reaching for the door. Had they been lovers? Was that the answer to the bitterness that haunted his eyes when he looked at her?

  She hesitated, her teeth nibbling at her lips as she contemplated that thought. Images of the two of them, naked, limbs entwined, flew behind her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, wondering if they were imagined or memories from her past.

  Why can’t I remember?

  “Guess we’ll have to see if Ana has any clothes she can lend you. Don’t think they’ll fit, though. She’s a little less endowed up top.”

  Libby turned toward the swing, noticing, for the first time, Declan sitting there, drinking in her state of undress.

  “What happened? Didn’t like the fashion choice Ana picked for you?”

  Tears began to prick the backs of her eyes, and Libby struggled to maintain control of her emotions, her fingers desperately trying to keep the ends of the shirt held tight over her heaving breasts.

  His eyes followed her movements, and humiliation was added to the host of emotions that ripped through her.

  “You must love seeing me like this.” Her voice was tremulous, but she held on, fighting to remain steady. “Confused and pathetic.”

  She shuffled over until she was a few feet from him, feeling as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes sat on her slight shoulders. The tears she’d tried to hold back burst through, coursing down her cheeks.

  “Why can’t you people just tell me who I am and what I’ve done? Why these games? Why can’t I remember anything past the last two months of my life? And why is this ache inside of me getting bigger?”

  Declan continued to study her in silence, his face unreadable.

  “Why am I not totally freaked out by the fact that Ana appears to be a vampire? I mean, that can’t be possible, and Jaxon just…just…” She couldn’t finish the thought. She was so tired of being confused.

  “We think someone has used a memory charm on you, a powerful one at that. It’s preventing you from remembering all the delicious little details that I would love nothing more than to pull from your brain.” He smiled coldly at her, his loathing barely contained. “And I would try, but you would most likely not live through it.”

  He looked away, as if the sight of her made him sick. “It will eventually fade, as the originator of the spell is no longer with you. Once that happens, you will remember everything, whether you want to or not.”

  Declan’s words were matter of fact, nonchalant even, but his body language told a different story. There was so much more to all of this, but one thing was clear: if she jumped in the lake and never resurfaced, he would not jump in to save her.

  His dislike was thick and meaty.

  “Why won’t you just tell me who the fuck I am?” Her voice came from deep inside her chest, shooting upward with an anger that hung in the air between them.

  “Your name is Libby Jamieson, and once you were part of a military unit.” Ana’s voice was soft and floated on the wind, winding its way toward Libby, encircling her with its silky texture. “Our unit, actually.” Ana paused briefly, her eyes sweeping over Libby to land on Declan.

  “We were antiterror and specialized in operations that our counterparts were ill-equipped to handle. It was a unique unit and one that you really didn’t belong in.”

  Libby stared at her, not comprehending the meaning of her words.

  Ana sighed impatiently. “You were human, and the rest of us…well, we’re not.”

  Libby opened her mouth to speak and shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. But then, recalling Jaxon morphing from a wild animal into man, she stared at the other woman and remained silent.

  “I know it’s a lot t
o comprehend,” Ana said. “Most humans don’t know any of us exist. It seems these days the only ones that do are looking to use our strengths and differences in order to do something illegal.”

  Ana smiled hesitantly. “Yes, I’m a vampire. I’ve lived for over three hundred years, and no, I wasn’t made. It is forbidden for my kind to do so. I was born what I am.” She motioned toward Declan. “As was Dec, and Jaxon our resident jaguar.”

  Ana motioned for her to follow her back inside the cabin, and Libby looked to Declan, but he had already turned away from her. She inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and squared her shoulders. She wasn’t sure what to believe anymore, and the pounding behind her eyes was slowly wearing her down.

  She rubbed her temple wearily and joined Ana inside the cabin. The other woman gently grabbed her arm. The touch of Ana’s hand was bittersweet. It had been so long since anyone had touched her with compassion, but still, she could sense that the woman was holding back. As if it was a struggle for her to touch and to comfort.

  Wild thoughts began to race through her mind. As she shook her head, they became louder, the pain building into a pounding migraine that set her teeth on edge as wave after wave crashed through her. So many thoughts and pictures.

  What had she done to them? What had she done to herself?

  Her mind was reeling, but the cool touch of Ana’s fingers at her back, stiff as they were, felt somehow reassuring. It was sad, really, how starved for a connection she’d become.

  Any kind of connection.

  “I am so tired.”

  She felt beat, and let Ana lead her back to the bedroom that she’d woken up in a few hours earlier. She still clutched the two ends of her shirt together, and cringed when Ana turned abruptly and spoke softly. “I have another shirt that should fit you. Hold on and I’ll grab it.”

  Shame darkened her cheeks a deep red, and she could only nod in acceptance of the other woman’s kind gesture.