Bitten to Death

Chapter Seventeen

The forest that crowded the base of Mount Panachaikon felt a lot like the national parks Albert had marched us through when we were kids. Lots of pines mixed with oak, chestnut, and white poplar left only minor undergrowth to wade through. A recent rain had left the leaves limp underfoot and smelling of decay. But not the Trust kind that made you want to gargle and spit.

“Are you going to be able to track these wolves?” asked Vayl. He strode beside me, so close that we could’ve held hands if we’d wanted to. I did. Goddammit, would you grow up?

What’s wrong with a little hand holding in the woods? Especially when you’re with a devastatingly handsome vampire who makes you feel slightly tipsy every time you look at him despite the fact that you haven’t imbibed in weeks?

It’s not professional, that’s what! Plus, it makes you look wimpy. And you can’t draw your gun if your hand is busy somewhere else. Any more questions, ya big squishy?

Just one.

What?

Do you want to be alone forever?

“Jasmine?”

“Huh?”

“I was expecting a response.” Don’t-ignore-me sharpness in his tone.

I sighed. “No, I can’t really track them. I mean, I get this general sense that they’re out here, but that’s about it. Maybe if there was just one whose scent I knew . . .”

“So what are we to do?”

“How the hell should I know? You’re the boss here. You decide!” I plopped down on a fallen log, ignoring the fact that dampness immediately began to seep through the seat of my jeans.

He strode up to the log, dug his boot into it, and leaned over me. “What is your problem now?”

I looked up into those dark, confused eyes, such an accurate reflection of my own feelings, and finally decided to tell the truth. “I want the ring back.”

He dropped to his haunches, his legs flanking mine so that I felt oddly embraced. “Why?”

“We need each other.” It was that simple.

As a leonine smile dawned on his face he pulled the necklace out from under his shirt and unclipped the ring. Instead of handing it to me as he had the first time, he slipped it on my finger. We shared a shocked look as we both realized it now sat on my left hand. Like a promise.

As Cirilai gave me its own form of Swedish-massage welcome, Vayl leaned forward. The message practically sang in his eyes—a kiss to make the moment eternal. I pressed my palm against his chest, feeling the abnormally slow whump of his heartbeat as I shook my head. “No,” I whispered. “You’re taken.”

When he tried to protest, I shook my head harder.

“She may have pulled a fast one, but the fact is that you turned her. You’re connected now. And until that’s broken, I can’t . . . I’m sorry. I just can’t. Plus, we already discussed this. About your boys. You still haven’t—”

“I understand,” he murmured in that velvet baritone that caressed my skin like hot oil. “Time. Perhaps now it will favor me as never before.” He took my hand in his, kept his eyes on mine as he lifted Cirilai to his lips. He smiled. And if he looked as dangerous as he seemed hopeful, well, that was all part of the package.

It turned out that wandering aimlessly wasn’t the best way to find a pack of werewolves. But stopping and sharing a quiet moment worked like chum in an ocean full of great whites. Vayl and I had just risen and I was pausing to wipe the bark off my fanny when a mocking feminine voice from behind me said, “Aw, Krios, wasn’t that touching? Now can I rip them apart?”

I jumped about three feet, turning as I did so, which would’ve made me fall in a tangled heap if not for Vayl, whose quick reflexes saved us both from utter embarrassment.

“Watch your temper, Phoebe,” said a tall, gray-haired man who looked like he should’ve been shelving books at the local library. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his brown slacks, one shoulder supported by an enormous oak. The young woman he’d just spoken to crouched comfortably at his knee. That we’d neither seen nor heard them advance to those positions said a great deal for their abilities. And just how wrapped up we could become in one another.

Phoebe viewed me with wide, irate eyes framed by spectacularly long lashes. Those can’t be real, I decided, especially considering the shocking amount of blue eye shadow backing them up. She pursed her lips, generously glossed in candy-apple red, and for a second I thought we were going to be witness to a string of expletives, delivered with the same barely contained zeal as her first pronouncement. Normally I would’ve wondered what chemical carpet she was riding as I watched her busy hands, tipped with blue-and-red-striped nails, fiddle with the pockets and buttons of her ancient army jacket. But she wasn’t sweating and her eyes seemed clear. Phoebe just had to move.

“You must be Trayton’s pack,” I said. Trayton had said Krios was his alpha. But he’d left out the part about his buds looking like they could bench-press a tour bus. As I looked around, maybe a dozen more people dressed for hiking had stepped into view. They ranged in age from sixteen to maybe fifty-five. And damn, were they fit.

“Why is it that you smell of him?” asked Krios. He made the question sound casual, but I could see the tension in his upper body. The unspoken messages flying from him to the surrounding wolves oozed barely contained violence.

“Well, he licked my hand a couple of times.” It sounded ridiculous put so baldly. I wished I had Cassandra’s portable library. The Enkyklios could’ve replayed the entire drama in Technicolor and surround sound.

“Trayton is mine!” growled Phoebe.

Krios put his hand on her head as I said, “Sure, fine. We’re just friends.”

Krios walked up to me, and now the bland old man facade dropped away and I realized why he’d come to power within this group. Immense strength in that gaze backed by the will to put it to use. “Why is it that though we tracked him to this villa, we can’t sense his spirit moving anywhere within it?” He took a deep breath, and when his brows drew together and his black eyes glittered dangerously I remembered clearly why I never let relationships grow beyond a certain point. Eventually the people you attached to, or their alphas, were bound to turn around and rip your heart out. “And tell me, woman, how is it that while I smell him on you, I also scent him within you?” He grabbed me by the collar and yanked me toward him. I took him by the wrists, more to keep my balance than to respond with violence. At least not yet. Especially not when he said, “Have you dared to eat my son?”