Forbidden Bite, Page 2

  “You’re a werewolf!” Her cry was horrified, but she didn’t pull her hand away from his mouth. She kept giving him her precious blood.

  She kept wrecking his whole world.

  Forbidden. Stop. Breaking all the rules. Turn away…

  His wound was healing. His heart was racing fast—strong and powerful now. But his entire focus—even as his beast clawed for his freedom—his entire focus was on the sexy little vampire before him. The woman who’d just sealed both of their fates.

  He looked at her—and saw everything. Every. Fucking. Thing.

  He could smell her sweet scent. It flooded his being. Flowers. Woman. Sex.

  He could hear her heart beating. Drumming too fast because she was afraid. And, unbelievably, his own heart shuddered as it fought to match her rhythm. His left-hand—now tipped with deadly claws—reached for her.

  And his mouth tightened on her wrist. His teeth sank into her skin. Her blood poured into his mouth and every precious, delicious drop made him stronger. Primed him. Tuned him…to her.

  “Th-that’s enough.”

  He kept drinking. Her blood was in him. She was in him. Did she realize…there was now no escape for her? Wherever she went, he’d find her. Always.

  “Let go. You have enough.”

  He’d never have enough of her. She’d seen to that. They were both cursed. In hell, together. And things were only about to get worse. For both of them.

  Isabella shoved hard against him. He let her go even as a growl broke from him. He couldn’t hold back the transformation. Griffin’s beast was too strong. His hands slammed into the cracked pavement as he gave himself up to his wolf.

  Her footsteps thundered away from him as she ran. As if she could get away. Wherever she went, wherever she hid…he’d track her.

  Because she was his.

  Chapter Two

  Her wrist was burning. The wound had healed—Isabella always healed incredibly fast—but she could still feel his mouth on her, like some sort of brand that had gone beneath her skin.

  She’d run through the city, constantly looking over her shoulder. She’d been terrified she’d see the beast coming after her.

  A werewolf. Oh, jeez. Isabella had never encountered a werewolf before. She’d actually hoped they were all long gone from this world. From the time she’d been a little girl, her family had always told her how dangerous—how uncontrollable—a werewolf could be.

  Stay away from the beasts. They’ll gobble up girls like you.

  And one had tried to gobble her up. He’d taken her blood. Taken and taken when she’d just been trying to help him. What an ungrateful beast.

  She yanked open the door to her hotel room. A fancy place in one of the bustling casinos, the room had seemed like a haven to her when she’d first arrived in town. She’d come to Vegas because it was a tourist hotspot. What better place to disappear? Only…

  No one told me there were werewolves in Sin City. That little detail had been missing from the travel guides.

  She kicked the hotel room door shut behind her and ran for the closet. It was a swanky room. The best she’d been able to afford because she’d been treating herself. Now, though, it was time to ditch the swankiness and get as far from Vegas as possible. She started throwing her clothes into her bag. Shoving in her shoes and—

  A knock sounded at her door.

  Isabella froze. Whoever was knocking…Please, please, don’t be the big, bad wolf. She edged toward the door.

  The knock came again.

  Would a werewolf bother knocking? She didn’t think so. Wouldn’t he just kick in the door if he were there?

  They’ll gobble up girls like—

  A man’s voice called, “Ms. Abandonato? It’s the hotel manager. I want to make sure your room is to your liking.”

  Her room? A bit dazed, she glanced around. Her wrist kept throbbing.

  There was a pause from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay?” the manager asked.

  No, the world was absolutely not okay.

  Isabella put her eye to the peephole and glanced into the hallway. A tall, thin male stood on the other side of her door. His hair was combed back from his high forehead, and the light gleamed off his round glasses.

  Not my werewolf.

  Fumbling, Isabella yanked open the door.

  He smiled at her. “I saw you go into your room, so I thought this would be a perfect time to check on you.”

  “It’s not perfect. I can’t talk now.” Not when there was so much running to do.

  “I only need a moment.” His bright blue gaze swept over her, and his stare stilled on her shirt front. “I think you’ve hurt yourself,” he murmured. “There’s blood on your clothes.”

  Her gaze fell to her shirt. “N-not my blood—”

  He hit her—shoved both of his hands against her shoulders and pushed her back into the room. “No,” his voice had gone hard and cold. “I suspected it wasn’t.” Then he pulled a gun from his pocket.

  Isabella stared at him with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

  Definitely not the hotel manager. But then, she should have noticed sooner that the guy wasn’t wearing the standard uniform that she’d seen on the other staff members.

  “I’m Felix Flemming, and I’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

  Her gaze darted from the gun to his face. “Buddy, I don’t know you, and I’m having a really bad night so—”

  “Blood loss will make your kind weak. I can fill your body full of bullets and let you bleed out on the floor. Then, when you’re helpless, I can have my team come up and carry you out of here. That’s one option.”

  Your kind. Her shoulders tensed.

  “The first couple of experiments were failures for me. But I have high hopes about tonight.” The guy who’d identified himself as Felix smiled at her. “My bait contacted me and told me about the developments in the alley. I’m very, very pleased. And because of that fact, we can try to do things the easy way. You can come with me willingly…”

  Go with him? Um, the hell, no.

  “Or I can fill your body with bullets.” His smile was evil. “Because there is no escape for you. I’ve got a team of five men waiting in the hallway. Even if you were to magically get past me, you’d still have to deal with them.”

  Not true, jerk. I’d only have to face them if I tried to escape through the hallway. Luckily, she had another plan stirring in her head.

  Isabella drew in a slow, deep breath. She let her face soften even as she hunched her shoulders and tried to appear weak. “I’ll come willingly.” She pulled up her power, knowing she’d only have one good shot at attacking him. She crept toward Felix. “There’s just one thing I need first…” Her stare held his.

  “What’s that?” His eyes were locked with hers.

  “For you to drop the fucking gun.” Power burned from her. “Drop it, now.”

  Instead of dropping it, he pressed the weapon right to her chest. “You think I don’t know about a vamp’s compulsion? Why the hell do you think I’m wearing these glasses? Special lenses, my dear. They distort my environment just enough that your magic doesn’t work on me.”

  Oh, shit. “In that case…” Isabella rasped—and then she yanked the weapon from him in a lightning fast move. His fingers squeezed the trigger when she grabbed the gun’s barrel, and the bullet blasted, but it missed her. Mostly. She felt the bullet graze her side even as Felix shouted for his men.

  Not hesitating, Isabella whirled away from him. She sprinted for the window on the right. She was high up, on the seventh floor, so this wasn’t going to be the most pleasant experience of her life.

  “Shoot her!” Felix yelled. “Stop her!”

  Gunfire erupted.

  She flew into the window. It was probably supposed to be reinforced glass or something but…not paranormal proof. She took that whole pane of glass out with her hit, and then she was plummeting down, down, falling straight to the earth below. The sidewa
lk came up to meet her in a blinding, sickening swirl, and then she hit it. The impact knocked the breath from her, and Isabella was pretty sure it shattered her bones, too.

  For a time, the entire world went dark. Everything was covered in a blanket of black.

  Isabella had a little secret. She might be a vampire, but she was still afraid of the dark. She was afraid of a whole lot of things.

  “I think she’s dead!” A woman’s high-pitched, horrified voice penetrated the darkness.

  Isabella sucked in a breath—vampires actually did need to breathe. Their hearts beat, blood flowed in their bodies—they were undead, not dead, after all—and she pushed herself up. Her arm felt funny. So did her leg. A quick glance showed they were both broken.

  I’ll heal. I always do.

  Someone screamed, “Oh, my God!” Then a woman with almost white-blonde hair fainted, hitting the ground right next to Isabella.

  “Stop her!”

  Isabella’s head jerked at that blasted order. Gawking humans were staring at her, but over their shoulders, she caught sight of Felix and his goons. They were rushing toward her. So, broken limbs or not, she had to get out of there.

  Isabella shoved her broken bones into a semi-correct position and she fled. Every staggering step was absolute torture, but she didn’t slow down. She couldn’t. Eventually, her body would heal itself. For the moment, though, she had to take the pain—and run.

  This night cannot get any worse. And to think, she’d thought Sin City would be fun. How could a woman be more wrong?

  ***

  Griffin followed Isabella’s scent to a high-end casino/hotel combo in the heart of Vegas. One filled with about a million glittering lights. It had taken him a bit of time to pursue his prey. He’d needed to get back-up clothes out of his car. Needed to get his beast in serious check.

  And I needed to figure out what in the hell I am going to do with her. Because there was one law in the werewolf world. The vampire is the enemy. If a wolf encountered a vamp, then the vamp died. No debate. Evil was eradicated.

  A crowd had gathered near the front of the glittering building.

  “I thought she was dead!” A woman’s voice rose to reach his ears. An ambulance had pulled up near the casino/hotel’s entrance, and an EMT was treating a blonde woman. “She jumped out of that window—had to be seven floors up! When she hit the ground, I heard her bones snap.” Dark lines of mascara ran down the blonde’s face. “It was horrible!”

  Griffin stiffened. His gaze lifted, and he saw the gaping hole seven floors up. Not Isabella, not…

  But his nostrils flared, and he caught the scent of Isabella’s blood. It was a scent he now knew all too well. He shoved through the crowd, and sure enough, next to the broken glass on the ground, he saw drops of her blood. And he knew it was Isabella’s blood. The scent was instantly recognizable. Imprinted on his very soul.

  Isabella had jumped from the window. Isabella’s bones had snapped. Isabella had—

  “She got up!” the woman cried. “And she ran away. How did she do that? How is that even possible? How—”

  Griffin’s head turned toward the ambulance.

  “Probably just a publicity stunt, ma’am,” the EMT assured her. “You know the magicians around here are always pulling shit like this. Now, you just take it easy…”

  Isabella’s fall had been no publicity stunt. Why had she leapt from seven stories?

  Fear grew within him. It took a moment for Griffin to recognize the emotion because it had been far too long since he’d feared anyone or anything.

  Find her. Protect her.

  He backed away from the crowd. Isabella’s scent was faint on the breeze, so he knew she’d raced from the scene. She’d run while she’d been hurt. His steps picked up speed. He would find her. He had to find her.

  If another werewolf in the city got to Isabella before he did…

  The vampire is the enemy.

  No, he would get to Isabella first.

  Chapter Three

  She had to feed. Dammit. Isabella slapped her hands against the dirty brick wall on the outside of a blaring bar. She was far away from the main Vegas strip, on a side of town that tourists wouldn’t visit. Music blasted, the scent of cigarettes drifted in the air, and her whole body trembled.

  She’d used too much energy running—and then healing. Now her bones were back in the right place and her cuts had mended, but she staggered with each step she took. If she didn’t feed soon, Isabella knew she’d be passing out. She had to find prey, fast.

  Her eyes squeezed shut. She could do this. She could walk up to the bouncer, give him a smile, compel him, and get her ass in that bar. Once inside, she’d find some drunk asshole to be her lucky victim. Easy. Maybe.

  A rich, woodsy scent teased her nose. She pushed away from the wall and swung toward—

  “Going somewhere?”

  Her knees almost buckled. It was the werewolf. Only he was looking a whole lot less beast-mode. He’d reverted back to his human form. His hair was dark, his eyes a vivid green, and his face…beneath the flickering street lamp, he looked scary as hell.

  Scary not like a wolf, but like…like the kind of trouble a smart woman steered clear of. Dangerous, bad, sexy scary.

  He was tall, with wide, strong shoulders. His shoulders stretched the fabric of the black t-shirt he wore. A pair of jeans hung low on his hips, and boots covered his feet. She didn’t even know how the guy had gotten new clothes so soon. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been ripping through the garments he wore. Literally tearing them to shreds with his claws.

  He took a step toward her.

  Isabella immediately backed up. “Stay away from me!”

  He stilled. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  They were on the side of the bar, on a street that looked empty, and she knew better than to believe his lies. “So says the werewolf.” She licked her lips because they were desert dry.

  His gaze immediately fell to her mouth and…heated?

  Why was his gaze warming while he stared at her lips?

  She threw out her hand and hit the brick wall, steadying herself right before her knees would have buckled.

  “You’re…hurt. I smell the blood on you.”

  “Right, well, that happens when you jump from a seventh floor window.” Her breath rasped out. “But don’t worry. I’m all healed. No more wounds.” Just weakness. A weakness that will go away when I get a little liquid power in me.

  He took another step toward her.

  “No! I said stay away, werewolf!”

  “I’m not a threat to you.” His voice was deep and rumbling, and it seemed to sink right beneath her skin. “And in case you missed it when we met before, my name’s Griffin.”

  No, she hadn’t missed it. She hadn’t missed anything about him. Her wrist throbbed. Burned. That was so weird. The closer he got to her, Isabella swore she could feel his bite actually warming her skin. “You’re not a threat?” Isabella lifted her chin. “My mistake. I wrongly assumed the guy who tried to stake me before might be dangerous.”

  He growled.

  She shivered. Why am I shivering? Growls aren’t sexy. This guy isn’t sexy. He’s probably a werewolf psychopath!

  “Things are…different now.”

  Isabella had no idea what that was supposed to mean. “Just get out of my way, okay? You say you’re no threat. Fine. If that’s the case, then leave. Because I’ve got places to go.” And people to bite.

  Instead of leaving, she blinked and the guy was right in front of her. Griffin reached out and his fingers curled beneath her chin. As soon as he touched her, a surge of electricity pulsed through her entire body. She found herself gasping, and—very, very embarrassingly—her nipples hardened. She also realized that rich, woodsy scent that she’d detected moments before? It was coming from him. A wild scent…an oddly alluring scent.

  “Your heart is beating too slowly.”

  “You can hear that?” And sh
e’d thought she had good hearing…

  “Werewolf senses, sweetheart.”

  Since when was she sweetheart?

  “Your breathing is labored, and you’re trembling.” Griffin lightly stroked her chin with his thumb. “Why did you jump? Were you so upset by what happened between us that you thought the only alternative was—”

  “You’re insane.” Isabella just broke right through his words because she’d come to that important realization—the werewolf is crazy. “I jumped because some assholes with guns broke into my hotel room and tried to kidnap me. The only way to escape happened to be through my window.”

  A faint furrow appeared between his brows.

  Her gaze dropped to his throat. “What I wouldn’t give for a taste,” she whispered as she stumbled toward him.

  Quite a few things happened then…

  Griffin swore and pulled her…closer.

  Footsteps raced toward them.

  A man shouted, “I see her!”

  And bullets blasted into the night.

  Isabella opened her mouth, prepared to scream as those bullets sank into her. The assholes had found her. As weak as she was, they were going to take her. She was helpless.

  But the werewolf lifted her into his arms and he leapt up into the air. The move was insane, so incredibly fast, and Isabella was sure she felt the heat of the bullets race by her skin—yet those bullets didn’t strike her.

  Because of him.

  Griffin touched down on the roof of the bar. She was still held in his arms, gaping at him in surprise. He’d just saved her ass, big time. He leaned his head close to hers, putting his lips just an inch, maybe two, from hers. “They’re dead,” he promised.

  It took her a moment to process what he’d said. And when she did, it was too late. He’d already let her go. He placed her on the roof and then he leapt back down to the street below. She blinked after him, then screamed, “No!” because she didn’t want to see the wolf get his body riddled with bullets.

  But as she watched, clinging desperately to the edge of that roof, he went right for his enemies. There were two humans there. One fired at him, but Griffin dodged the bullet and then his claws swiped at the man who’d just tried to kill him.