Carnal Knowledge

CHAPTER TWO

Navarre thought Raoul was a fool for risking his heart and his life for a human mate, be they ever so tempting. A fling perhaps, but he would not chain himself to a woman who could never be his equal. As arrogant as that made him sound, he couldn’t help the thought. They were too fragile. And to risk war for a woman not their kind was suicide ... and worse. Not that the shaky truce between vamps and Lycans held when pressed. Each stayed on their own ground. Crossing over almost always meant a fight once the vamps had risen from their slumber.

He’d risked attack coming here to talk his friend out of this foolishness, but Raoul would not be swayed. He’d chosen the course of his life and Navarre could not stop him.

Of course, he would not have met the brazen Kaeli had he not come....

Navarre put the tempting vixen out of his mind. He could not chance embroiling more humans in their affairs--it always ended in their death.

To think of her caramel skin bleached and lifeless, the sassy glint of her hazel eyes snuffed, fouled his mood.

Navarre took a deep, cleansing breath as he exited the club. His ears rang with residual beat, and he shook his head as though that would clear it.

The stench of sweat, smoke, and liquor clung to his nostrils, near overpowering him but lessening in potency as he walked past the club’s facade. Rounding the block, he strode into the alley, ears perked for danger.

He’d parked his car on the other end of the building as a precaution from thieves and alerting vamps of his presence. Not that it mattered this early.

He slowed his steps as a hush settled. The wind whistling through the confines halted in anticipation, as though sucked into greedy lungs.

He wasn’t alone.

Navarre crouched, muscles tensing, scanning the edges of the roof for attack. The trace scent of blood drifted to him--a scent of vampire--

permeating the air just as the vampires struck.

A dark shape whipped past him, seemingly from nowhere, though he knew it a trick of the mind-- flashing. Navarre extended his claws in an instant, slashing as it rammed his side just as a second slammed into him from behind.

Navarre whirled with the hit, striking flesh, felt the stinging rain of blood shower upon him--his own and that stolen from an innocent victim.

The vamps stopped in the alley, and his gaze shifted back and forth, keeping them in sight, his muscles fluid, ready to attack, yet he waited to see what they would do next. Long had it been since he’d killed a vamp, and he would not do so now if he could help it. If they continued their attack, however....

“It’s hardly fair two of you attackin’, mon ennemi,” he said, leveling his stare on the dark one but continually glancing at the heavy blond.

The dark haired one glared at Navarre, hissing as he clutched his side, stemming the flow of blood. “You don’t belong here,” he spat out. He examined the shredded jacket and slowly closing wound on his side. “I just finished feeding. You’ll pay for the meal you stole.”

Navarre grinned, lengthening his claws to daggers. “Gladly.”

They rushed him as one, right and left. Navarre spun from the slash of their nails and teeth. He couldn’t allow them to bite and inject their venom. Running along the alley, one vamp breathing down his neck, he ran at one of the walls and jumped, hitting high and bounding off it. Chunks of brick shattered under the grip of his hands and the strike of his feet, scattering like pebbles. He slammed into the thick middle of the blond vampire just as he launched at Navarre.

Navarre straightened his arms like swords, tearing into the vamp’s soft belly. Hot blood gushed over his arms, showering the pavement in a widening slick. The blond screamed and hit the pavement with a meaty thud, slipping in his meal as he struggled to hold his belly together.

Navarre shook the tainted blood from his hands, landing on his feet, staggering as his boot heels struck scattered brick, rolling beneath him.

The lead vamp grabbed him from behind as he recovered his balance.

Navarre twisted in the vamp’s grip, baring his neck as he punched his right hand back across his chest, driving into the vamp’s side, reaching for the heart. The grip tightened. He heard the pop of his shoulder as it slipped out of the socket. Navarre continued driving his claws into the dark haired vamp, faster and faster, but his hold didn’t loosen. He growled in wolfen fury, barely noticing the pain as the fangs sank in and savaged his throat and shoulder, shredding his skin.

The vampire’s poison flooded his veins, paralyzing him. His arms dropped as the paralytic drug consumed him. The blood pulled from his body, sucked away like the remains of a thick shake. Sluggishly, his wolfen powers worked to heal him, but he could do nothing so long as the vampire fed off him.

Navarre sank to his knees, barely feeling the pavement dig into his flesh through the thin leather pants.

Heat singed his hair with a whining zip--a bullet buzzed by his head, slamming into the vamp holding him in thrall. He was released abruptly, and then he heard the scream of a woman echoing through the alley.

Some thing was eating Navarre. Kaeli looked at it in horror, the blood frozen in her veins, her stomach convulsing in an agonizing clench to empty its contents. Even at this distance, she could see wildness in its--the man’s eyes. Thick red coated his blinding white skin, long ivory nails dug into Navarre’s bronze flesh. His mouth latched on to Navarre’s neck, shaking him like a dog with a chunk of meat.

Kaeli choked back the sickness threatening to overwhelm her and pulled her gun out of her purse without conscious volition. She aimed and pulled the trigger, feeling sluggish, as though she moved under water.

The gun popped with a small crack like a roman candle, kicked back, waking her from her stupor. She blinked rapidly at the muzzle flash, watching with morbid fascination as the man thing fell back from Navarre, dazed. A hole blossomed on his cheek like a crimson rose. Navarre dropped to his hands, freed at last, shaking his head in confusion, his blond hair matted with blood.

The world returned to full throttle in an instant.

“Get the fuck away him!” she screamed. The man looked up at her, a killing look wiping the stunned surprise off his face. With amazing speed, he gained his feet and rushed her.

He should be dead. Not running. Not attacking.

Kaeli didn’t hesitate, fired straight into him. The gun popped rapidly, smoke filling the air. He didn’t pause a second, as if the slugs were no more a nuisance than mosquitoes pelting his hide.

He reached her and she fired again, heard the tell-tale click of the empty chamber. How could she have emptied the gun so fast? He snatched her gun from her steely grip with breathtaking speed, slashed at her. She dropped to the ground and his nails glanced through her braids trailing in the air as she ducked. He ran past, and she whirled in her crouch, kicking her leg out, saw he was gone--as though he’d flown away or something.

Kaeli straightened and shuddered, then turned and ran to Navarre as he gained his feet. He moved his arm, and it crunched with a sickening pop.

He gave her a wry smile then slumped against her. “My thanks,” he murmured against her shoulder.

She wrapped her arms around him for support. He was wet, sticky.

His shirt squished as she hugged him.

“Oh, Jesus!” she gasped. His back was soaked through with blood she found as she pulled her hands away, the thick liquid black in the shadows. She swallowed against the nausea, felt around, but she couldn’t find a wound, no bullet hole telling she’d missed his attacker and hit him.

There was only a small tear on his neck. She wiped at the blood with her palm, trying to see the wound, but after a few seconds, even that didn’t seem so bad. But the head area bled the worst. That could account for his drenching, and not all of it could be from him.

He could barely stand though and moved like he was drunk, his limbs too heavy to lift.

“We have to get you to a hospital. I’ll get someone to call inside.”

No one could have heard that commotion over the music pounding inside--

her suspicions confirmed when no one rushed outside to see what had happened. She had to go back and get help. She didn’t even consider calling the cops because, frankly, she despised them. And they’d probably haul her in for having had a gun.

“No,” he said and pushed off her, his strength returning. “No hospital. I’m goin’ home.”

“You stupid son of a bitch. You’re hurt. Bad. You’re going if I have to carry you myself.”

He smiled, and some of the color seemed to come back to his face, though it was hard to tell with the shadows. Moonlight and security lights could only reveal so much.

He started walking down the alley.

“You’re gonna fight me, huh?” she asked, jogging up beside him, glancing back to make sure the thug wasn’t sneaking up behind them.

He spared her a backward glance over his shoulder. “But of course, petite. Don’ worry, they’re both gone.”

Two? Two had jumped him? She hadn’t even seen the other. It was no damned wonder he was hurt. She didn’t even want to think about how she’d emptied her clip into one of the bastards. She wasn’t ready to question that just yet. Navarre knew something, and as soon as she made sure he was all right, she’d get the truth from him. Besides which, that thing had stolen her gun and she wanted it back.

“You got a car?” she asked, feeling doubtful. She didn’t relish the idea of walking him home, in the dark, without protection. Plus, she was wearing heels and they weren’t conducive to long nature walks.

“Jus’ ahead.”

“Good. I’ll take you home since you’re so damn hard headed.”

She ducked under his arm, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach at being pressed against him. He was hurt. You can’t lust after a half dead man. Hell, she was as bad as a damn dog panting after a bitch in heat.

“You know it’s illegal to bring a gun into a bar, chere?” It was more of a riling statement than any question.

“Huh,” she grunted. “Saved your ass, didn’t it?”

“I ‘spose it did.”

She grinned and they continued on until a sleek silver viper appeared in sight, parked under a flickering light pole. Without a touch of concern, he tiredly fished the keys out of his pocket and handed them to her.

She accepted them and helped him to the passenger side, disengaging the alarm before opening the door. He dropped into the low ride, and she watched in dismay as he bloodied the black leather interior. It was his car, his blood ... maybe--what did she care?

Kaeli sunk into the driver’s seat and adjusted it for her height, giving him a once over before she fixed the mirrors to her line of sight.

Unfortunately, she had no clue how to get to the hospital, or she would have abducted him and gone straight there. Instead, she followed his directions to the old industrial district. The traffic was light and it didn’t take long to reach their destination. She’d worry about getting to the hotel when that time rolled around.

He slept as she drove to his address and pulled along the end of the block. He woke as she slowed the car and directed her to the entrance. A warehouse rigged with motion sensitive cameras attached to a keypad allowed them inside, and she parked the car in the cavernous sub-level. She got out and shut the door, jumping as the slamming thud echoed in the large interior. She was breathing heavily and sweating by the time she walked him to the elevator, knowing she’d never make it up the stairwell with him slumped over her shoulders.

The elevator groaned as it took them up, and she supported him as it made its shaky way to the second floor. She couldn’t help but notice how hot he was, compared to her own body temperature. Could fever be setting in so quickly? They reached the level, and she halted the elevator, freeing herself from him to open the heavy gate.

“Welcome to my humble home,” he said, nudging her inside.

Her eyes widened as she took in his place. “Humble my ass.”

He grinned in response.

It was big enough she could yell and get back an echo. Raw iron beams extended overhead, light flooding down from huge fluorescent fixtures, revealing a sumptuous living space that encompassed the entire second floor. Blackened glass closed in the walls on all sides.

She couldn’t understand why someone would want to live with so much space. It creeped her out having a thirty foot ceiling, and she couldn’t help but keep looking up at the dark space above the lighted beams. It made her feel naked, watched. Anything could be hiding up there. No way could she live here. Not that he was asking.

“All right. Let’s get your pale ass into the bathroom so I can get you cleaned up. I want to make sure this isn’t all your blood.”

“I had no idea you cared.”

Kaeli grunted and followed him to the bathroom. He seemed better now, could walk on his own, but she had a suspicion he was acting more hurt than he was just so she’d stay near. There was some hint in his body language--something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Or maybe she just had a nasty suspicious mind.

The bathroom stood near one wall, and beyond she could see the edge of a bed. The area had been closed in, almost like a wrought iron arbor hung over the space, keeping the ceiling to a normal low. Inside, the bathroom was as obscenely large as the rest of his place. A whirlpool took up one wall--large enough for a small orgy. A shower stood off center, encased with etched glass doors sparkling clean. Everything gleamed with polish and care. A beveled mirror took up the space above a dual, marble sink, and recessed lighting edged the ceiling with a mellow glow.

Men, they always denied loving the bathroom. She could tell this one spent a lot of time in here primping. He had to with all that gorgeous blond hair.

“Who gets the job of cleaning this place?”

“I do.”

She was impressed and it showed. The man cleaned. Most bachelors lived like they were in frat houses. His mama raised him right. “All righty.

Take off your shirt.”

“So soon? We hardly know each other.”

Ha! As if any straight man wouldn’t jump at the chance. “Boy, there ain’t a shy bone in your body and you know it. You’ve been plastered to me almost the whole way here.”

He dropped down on the lip of the whirlpool, smiling slightly, his feet propped on the marble steps. She narrowed her eyes. “You ain’t acting like you’re much hurt.” That wasn’t entirely true. She could see his mouth tighten as he pulled his shirt off.

His chest and neck were smeared with dried blood, obscuring her appreciation for his beautiful muscles. At least there wasn’t any gushing like a fountain. She wasn’t so sure she could handle that right now.

Kaeli picked up a washcloth from the sink, wet it, and began wiping the grime from his neck and chest. Beyond a red welt, she couldn’t find any sign of a wound. Nothing on his back or chest either. Only old scars. She ran her fingers along his scalp, feeling for lacerations. Nothing.

The hairs rose on the back of her neck. There’d been a tear on the crook of his neck before. She’d seen it with her own eyes. Felt it. She hadn’t imagined what had happened--no one had spiked her drink. She was as lucid now and then as she ever had been in her life.

Kaeli stepped away from him, noticed a slight shiver of his skin. He watched her steadily, his eyes glittered with interest and something more ... something primal.

“What the hell is going on here?” she demanded.

“What do you think is goin’ on?”

“Don’t start playin’. I saw what happened. I saved your ass. You owe me an explanation. Who was that guy?”

He sighed and bent, removing his boots and dropping them to the floor. He peeled the black socks off his feet, tossing them at a hamper.

“Vampires,” he said after letting her stew in silence several minutes.

He was joking. Had to be. This whole damn night was one big joke.

Only he wasn’t laughing, and the dead serious expression on his face confirmed he was nuts--or telling the truth. And she was just crazy enough to almost believe him. “You mean like the Goth kind, right?”

He smiled as though humoring her. “I mean the undead, humans-are-

food kind.”

Kaeli leaned against the wall for support. “Why’d they attack you?”

The look he slanted her chilled her bones. She could almost forget he was “injured.”

“I’m a werewolf,” he said with a little growl that danced along her nerves.

Jesus! She had to get out of here. Her feet wouldn’t budge. “That doesn’t explain much.”

“My friend angered the vamps by taking a human mate marked and favored by one of their own. He’s been at it for days. I only went to Inferno to stop him, for all the good it did.”

Mates. It sounded so ... barbaric. “Don’t y’all have your own?

Mates?”

If this was a joke, she didn’t like it. Her humor tended toward the dry and sarcastic. Practical jokes were beyond her.

“Lycan women are rare,” he said, his eyes darkening.

That didn’t make any sense. Who’d have the puppies? She almost laughed, but she didn’t think he’d appreciate it. “Why don’t you make some? In the movies, all it takes is a bite or scratch--”

“No. Human women almost never survive the transformation.”

“Downer. So you take human mates?” she said, not really asking.

The whole idea was preposterous.

“Some of us do ... to ease the loneliness.” His jaw hardened, and his hands clenched into fists.

“I get the feeling you don’t agree. What about me? Would I make a good mate?”

He relaxed fractionally. “Ah, chere, you could tempt a priest to forsake his vows.” His gaze lingered on her breasts and the wide curve of her hips.

Unfamiliar heat crept up her neck. She was suddenly very aware of how close she stood to him, how much bigger he was than her--injured or not. It wasn’t a fear of being hurt that had her awareness jumping, but a fear of having too good a time and getting addicted. It wasn’t like men were beating down her door or anything. She pushed off the wall with her shoulder. “I have to go. You make a good argument, but you’re nuts.”

“No one ever believes until it bites them on the ass.” He stood, matching her stance.

“Are you coming on to me, or are you just teasing?” She narrowed her eyes. Maybe there was some truth here, unless she’d completely mistook what she’d seen. It wouldn’t be the first time some acid head had run through a barrage of .22 slugs.

He grinned as if to say he was, then unbuttoned the fly of his pants.

“Do you like being chewed on, petite?”

Kaeli swallowed, propping a hand on her hip to look relaxed. She glanced down at his relatively clean chest and the sunburst tattoo. Hadn’t she promised herself a good time on this trip? Gorgeous, crazy men deserved nookie too. She watched the black leather fly fold open with eager eyes. “Depends on what you’re chewin’ on.”

He slumped against the door, halting the unveiling of his girl toy.

Dammit. “Something the matter?”

He rubbed his eyes tiredly, pushing his long hair out of his face.

“Venom. From the vamp. They release it when feeding or killing. I should be dead now, but it’s hard even for Lycans to come down from an attack. If I get into the shower, I’ll feel better.” He looked at her, an elusive quality in his gaze. “Care to help?”

“Ha ha ha.” Did he have to keep reminding her about that? She’d just started getting into the fantasy ... now he’d spoiled it. Like it or not, he genuinely seemed like something was wrong with him, and she couldn’t very well jump his bones now. She doubted she’d have a very good time if he was too tired to even stand.

“Sure, I’ll help,” she grumbled, slipping her feet out of her shoes and opening the glass door. There was enough room inside she could run the water and not get wet, and still have him behind her without touching.

Steam clouded the glass almost instantly, and she could see the blurred image of him removing his pants. She quickly glanced away as the door opened and he stepped inside, turning her mind to getting the water temperature and jet stream force right so she could leave.

The door clicked shut and a weight fell against her back, pushing her into the hot, streaming water. “Shit!” she yelped, blowing the water out of her eyes and turning as the weight slipped down her back and legs.

Navarre sprawled on the shower floor, arms thrown out carelessly, faint red water swirling around him as it washed the residual blood away.

He was also buck ass naked, and his cock stood nearly straight up, hard as a rock. Kaeli couldn’t decide which emotion reigned: humor, horror, or concern.

She decided irritation was her friend.

She’d already discovered he was quite the story teller ... might he also be an actor? She was tempted to leave him there to drown. “Asshole. You got me wet. Get up. The game’s over.” Kaeli nudged him with her toe. He didn’t budge.

Steam billowed, making the remaining dry patches of her clothes cling to her body. She picked at her shirt uncomfortably, irritated, looking down at him. He was playing a trick, she knew. Everyone always played tricks on her. “Navarre! Get up!”

No response. She nudged him again, but he didn’t even flinch. Panic made her heart race. Maybe he’d overdosed on viagra or something.

“Fuck!” She knew she should’ve taken him to a hospital. Kaeli dropped to the floor, cupping his face, splashing water on him. “Fuck, shit, hell, damn! Don’t be dead. Fuck!”

She gave him a shake, and his eyes opened just as he wrapped his arms around her, hauling her close. Kaeli’s knees slipped out from under her and she fell against his chest with a grunt and enough force to stun her for several long seconds.

His lips curled into a slow smile, and his amber eyes crinkled with amusement.

“You bastard! You damn faker--you tricked me!” She planted her palms against his chest and pushed away, to no avail. His grip tightened, flattening her breasts against him. She could feel every detail of his body through her saturated silk blouse, the hardness of his chest and belly. And she remembered with horror that he was naked--and erect as a damn tower.

She squirmed, felt her skirt ride up her splayed thighs, exposing her to the rough hair of his legs.

“You got a dirty mouth, ma petite,” he murmured, smelling her skin, his lids bedroom heavy with lust.

“You think you got something to clean it out?” Jesus, he hadn’t looked so big when she was standing above him--something about perspective.... His cock seemed to swell against her hip. She felt weak just thinking about him burying it inside her.

“Maybe. What would it take?” he asked. His husky voice stroked her senses, and she had a hard time concentrating just listening to his drawling, mesmerizing accent. The man’s voice was enough to wipe out coherent thought, igniting a proliferation of carnal images.

With an effort, she looked away from his mouth and blinked back visions of him dragging it over her skin. He was close enough his breath tickled her lips, and she could smell the faint scent of scotch on his breath.

“Damn.” She was dying to be kissed. Jesus!

He frowned, arched a brow. “Petite,” he said in a warning voice.

“What you have in mind ain’t gonna clean me out,” she said, frowning back at him. Though she was certain she’d feel like she’d been reamed if he poked it into any of her orifices. Her legs might not close for days.

“I like a challenge. We can always ... try. There’s no harm in that, is there?”

He trailed a hand down her back, massaging the base of her spine, just above her ass. She desperately wished she could ignore how good it felt. “I thought you were hurt.” Hell or high water--nothing short of cutting it off could stop a man from a piece of ass if it was willing.

“I got better.”

“Right. Werewolf.”

“I jus’ playin’, petite.”

Playing? About everything, or being hurt? She didn’t want to ask.

“I like how dirty your mouth is.” He slipped a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her down.

Kaeli turned her face at the last moment, not sure why she was suddenly afraid. He released her at her gentle push, and she backed off onto her knees, looking down at him, breathing heavily like she’d run a race.

Something slipped behind his eyes, making them darken. The look he gave her scorched. “You should go. While you still can....”