I swallowed past the sudden pain in my throat. “Yeah. Do you love me?”
“Yeah.” He smiled then. “We’re so damn romantic.”
I laughed, fighting down tears. We were holding hands so tightly we’d have broken the bones of a normal human. “We’ll find a way through this eventually,” I said. “Both of our species are long-lived, barring fatal accidents like getting eaten.” Rick’s brows went up at that one, but he still didn’t turn to me. “Just because we can’t be together today doesn’t mean we won’t be able to be together tomorrow.”
“Our jobs, you for the vamps, me with PsyLED, put us at odds.” He had said that earlier and the repetition made me listen more closely. “I haven’t told anyone what you are, but you’re a skinwalker and I’m a cop.” He stared hard into the night, and I got a bad feeling about what Rick might say next. “If you went renegade and, say, ate someone’s liver—”
“U’tlun’ta,” I said. The Cherokee word was pronounced “hut luna,” and was what one of my species became when we got old, went crazy, and started eating humans.
Rick let the ghost of a smile cross his mouth and said, “Yeah. That. We studied American tribal mythology as part of our training.” He stared out over the Mississippi, her waters a muted susurration and a deep thrum, like the heartbeat of the world. “Don’t make me have to kill you. Shoot you with silver.”
I thought about that while the river ran past and my arm throbbed. “If I started killing humans, I’d want you to shoot me.”
After a longer moment, he said, “Glad we got that straight. Like I said. Romantic. But we can’t be together.” It was half a question, and I shook my head in a silent no. We couldn’t be together because sex would infect me with black were-leopard blood-taint. At the thought, tears gathered in my eyes.
Rick made a ruminating sound, halfway between a thoughtful hmmm and a grunt. “So, in the meantime we . . . what? Date others?”
Mine, Beast thought.
I wondered if his dating others included the witch, Soul. My heart hurt when I said, “Seems only fair. See each other when we can.”
Rick turned to me then, his cat rising in his eyes. “Play when we can?” He meant play in bed, which we’d done once and which had been pretty close to fantastic. Okay, had been totally fantastic.
My heart lightened and my lips curved up slightly. “Play. Yeah. Play.”
“I can smell your blood,” he said. “I can smell that you’ve lost a lot, too much, and you’re still bleeding. You need to shift.” He opened his door and pulled me across the seat and out. I felt faint-headed from standing so quickly, and leaned against the car as Rick grabbed the groceries, a blanket, and slid an arm around my waist to support me, which felt all kinds of weird. I wasn’t used to being supported. In any way. But Rick was inhumanly strong now, my weight almost nothing on him. He led me down, toward the river, away from the lights of the city on the bluff and from the noise of Natchez Under the Hill, and into the shadows. The night was chill, with a faint wind. I could smell the water and the egrets and the hams. I had never fed Beast ham, especially not cooked ham, and I wondered how she would like the sugar-crusted honey-baked one and the bacon-wrapped one. My mouth started watering just thinking of the meat. Yeah. I needed to shift.
In a secluded spot Rick spread out the blanket, put the hams on the grass, and ripped them open. He lay down on the blanket. “Strip,” he commanded.
I spluttered, thinking, So much for any thoughts of romance.
“I dare you.” He lay back on the blanket with his hands behind his head.
“I’ve always thought taking dares was stupid.”
“I’ve always thought you naked was wonderful.”
Which put a totally different characteristic on his command. I felt in my pocket and found the lion’s tooth I used when I needed to shift in an unexpected place or time. My arm was throbbing. I had lost a lot of blood. I sighed and started dropping blades. They made an impressive pile. Next to them I dropped the utility belt and the lightweight Kevlar vest, followed by the holsters and weapons. Then I pulled off combat boots and socks. The grass prickled my bare soles. When I unbuttoned the camo pants, Rick’s eyes started a soft yellow-green glow. I could smell his cat, musky and hot-blooded.
I held his eyes as I slid the pants off, my body hidden by shadows and the long tails of the black shirt. The cold November night air hit my legs. Chill bumps rose on my skin. My body tightened all over.
I unbuttoned the shirt cuffs, exposing my wrists. Started on the buttons down the front of the shirt. Rick’s eyes glowed greener. His cat scent filled the night, merging with the powerful water-fish-pollution stench of the enormous river. I slowed, a heaviness filling me. His eyes holding me.
Slowly, I pushed the shirt off my shoulders. Let it fall to the grass. It caught at my wound, the dried blood like glue. I felt fresh trickles across my skin. The cut was pounding, aching beneath the bandage. Ignored. My breath came fast. I unbuckled the black bra. Let it fall. The night caressed my stomach and across my breasts. Rick’s eyes seemed to follow the wind. My nipples tightened and a turgid warmth settled low in my belly.
I hooked my fingers in my panties and slid them down. When I stood, Rick was watching me, his eyes a bright, sharp green-gold glow. The scent of our cats caught up on the slow breeze and played lazily in the small clearing.
Mine, Beast thought. And she slammed down through me. I knelt on the grass and bent over Rick, purring. I rubbed my cheek to his, his rough nighttime beard scratching. I scraped my jaw along his, scent-marking him. He was purring now too, the twin vibrations filling the air.