Heartsblood (Dark Hollow Wolf Pack 10)

Following Nicky down the sidewalk, he thought he could feel Cade and Marco’s gaze boring into their backs, but Nicky was probably right. Tate was more than likely long gone by now. He’d made his point.

“Damn,” Jax said, grinning a little. “Are you able to share any of Marco’s thoughts yet? Because Cade is not happy with me right now.”

Nicky smiled back at him. “I don’t have to be able to share his thoughts to know exactly what he’s thinking. I have to keep reminding myself that this is an adjustment for him just as much as it is for me. His natural inclination is to protect me, and after all Tate has done to us, it’s little wonder he’s nervous.”

They had reached the sidewalk by this time and Jax glanced back over his shoulder at Cade before turning to Nicky. “Today was the closest I ever came to meeting Tate, but I have to say he didn’t look like such a monster.”

“Looks can be deceiving. After all, even the devil is supposed to be beautiful.”

* * * *

The night was like a living thing that wrapped its arms around him and caressed his body with soft fingers. Nicky felt free of his burdens, of all the stress and problems that weighed on his mind day in and day out as he ran under the golden moon, night’s breath in his nostrils. He was running toward something—he knew that instinctively, but he wasn’t sure what. There was a scent in the wind, tantalizing him, beckoning to him, and he ran to catch it.

Then ahead of him he caught of glimpse of his quarry, a beautiful boy, bent over a tire as he struggled to change it. He snarled, baring his teeth, and his quarry turned with frightened eyes to look around himself nervously.

Nicky circled around to get behind his new prey, looking for a weakness, something he could exploit for his own purposes. There was that enticing scent on the breeze again, urging him closer.

Nicky saw his prey shift its eyes to the side, checking for a clear exit, perhaps? He was close to a lighted building not far away and Nicky saw him glance toward it, as if looking for someone. An older woman came out of the building and called to the boy, and Nicky was incensed at the interference. He sprang from the woods, leaping on top of her, taking her to the ground on her back, her feeble attempts to free herself merely irritating to him as he quickly and efficiently silenced her screams. His teeth sank into her throat and the slippery blood flowed down his throat, but hers wasn’t the blood he craved. He held the woman in place through her death throes with his powerful jaws and then rose and turned back toward his prey, who was screaming and beating on his back, trying to pull him off the woman.

The boy—the one who belonged to him now—was too close for Nicky to do anything but react, his touch was too electrifying. He could smell the fear overlaying the sweet scent of his mate. He turned and took him down, determined to stake his claim, his teeth clamping down on the boy’s neck and tasting his sweet blood as his hoarse shouts and cries spilled out, along with the blood.

A big truck followed by another car with flashing lights suddenly wheeled into the parking lot, and Nicky turned to snarl at the intrusion. Their lights and horns made him reluctantly slink away as other men ran toward him, shouting and shooting a gun in the air. Retreating into the dark woods, he watched them crouch over his mate and the woman who’d been foolish enough to interrupt. Then the parking lot began to fill with more flashing lights and sirens that hurt his ears. Nicky ran away into the dark, back toward the mountains and away from the noise and confusion. When he felt dawn coming on, he lay down in exhaustion and frustration and waited for the sun to rise.

“Wake up, Nicky. You’re having a bad dream.”

Nicky’s eyes flew open to see Marco bending over him, his face drawn and worried. Nicky gasped and threw his arms around Marco’s neck, pulling him close. Marco must have just come from the shower, because his beautiful body was still damp and gloriously naked. Nicky ran his hands over Marco’s chest and tried to smile at him, though he was still shivering a bit at the weirdness and horror of the nightmare he’d just had.

“Damn, that was a bad one,” he murmured against Marco’s throat.

“It was only a dream, baby.”

“I know, but it felt so real—more like a memory than a dream. I thought they were almost over, but this one was awful. There was this poor woman…I-I killed her…and a boy…”

Marco rubbed slow circles on his back. “Dreams can seem real sometimes. It was probably from the shock of seeing that asshole Tate again, after all that’s happened. You’d never hurt anyone. Now roll over on your stomach and let me rub your shoulders for you. You’re so tense.”

“I have to shower too and get dressed for dinner.”

“You have plenty of time. It’s only five o’clock and we’re invited for six-thirty. We can take an ATV up to Cade’s lodge and be there in ten or fifteen minutes. Hey, you can wear one of your new shirts and make Gabe jealous.”

Nicky smiled. Marco was trying to distract him, so he went along, pushing away the disturbing images still in his head. Just a dream, that’s all it had been.

“What are you going to wear?” Nicky asked, trying to distract himself. He could feel the muscles in his neck and shoulders relaxing as Marco worked them expertly. He probably needed to get up before he melted right into the mattress.

“Well, I was going to wear the blue shirt…”

Nicky looked over his shoulder at him. “But I wore it today. I’m so

rry. I know it’s one of your favorites.”

“I’ll wear it anyway. It smells like you now, and I like that.”

Nicky turned toward Marco who leaned over him for a kiss. Marco kissed his lips and then moved down to the curve of his neck. “I love you so much,” he whispered, and Nicky shivered again despite the warmth of the room and the hot silky slide of Marco’s skin over his. He was bent over Nicky on his knees on the tangled sheets, nuzzling his throat before moving back up to his mouth. He kissed Nicky’s lips again, hot, hungry kisses that made Nicky melt.

Kissing Marco had always been like this—something magical sparking between them and taking fire. When they’d lost their bloodmatch, the heat between them was still good, still exciting, but Nicky had felt the loss keenly. He’d never thought to have it back again, this passionate, intoxicating exchange of breath, this feeling of connection so deep it was as if their souls had blended into one.

Since Tate injected Nicky, and he’d begun to form the bloodlust, it was all coming back again, even more intensely than before. But there really was no name for something this sweet, this intimate, nothing that described it or even came close.

Marco deepened the kiss and Nicky moaned softly, never wanting it to end. How had he forgotten what this was like, even for a short while? When they’d lost their bloodmatch, their relationship had still been good, but this—this was like choosing to have real sugar over a sugar substitute. Like choosing wine over grape juice. The substitutes might be adequate, even good, but they were nothing compared to the real thing. The real thing was raw and dangerous and scary as hell. How could you ever have something this good and survive losing it?