Rogue Alliance

FIFTY



His arms were filled with her. His mind was consumed by her. The sweet taste of her made him heady and irrational. But underlying that passion, that need to satiate his desire, was another, more ruthless instinct.

Though Brennan had taken his daily supplement and had been successful at curbing his unnatural and ingrained yearning for weeks, the smell of her just under his nostrils, so close and so warm, triggered that hated thirst. It made him sick to his stomach to think of how badly he wanted to give in to both desires. Which was the strongest, he wasn’t sure.

As if sensing his weakness, she tipped her long neck back and exposed it to him, daring him. With her fingers in his hair, she pulled him closer until his lips touched the smoothness of her skin. The pulse was quick and strong under his lips. His body was straining. His muscles were taught and he sensed that the smallest provocation would send him over the edge. Not for the first time, he didn’t trust himself.

Unable to resist, he kissed the small dip in her throat. When she spoke, the desperation in her voice made him hesitate.

“Just do it.”

Confusion segued to startling realization as it dawned on him what she was suggesting, but he didn’t pull away. With his lips still to her throat, he closed his eyes and fought the raging war within. It would have been so easy to sink his teeth into her flesh. God, he really was a monster.

She spoke again softly, the encouragement in her voice near pleading. He saw a tear run down the side of her neck.

“Just do it. I can’t do this anymore. I just want all of it to go away.”

Her raw emotion and pure vulnerability slapped him back to his senses. Pulling back, he looked into her face. The pain was pure and unhindered. Her typical thick bravado was nowhere to be found. Only the depth of her and who she was, what she feared, was exposed in that moment.

Guilt and shame plagued him, but, more than that, everything about her haunted him. The overwhelming thirst and temptation which had engulfed him only minutes before was squelched and drowned with her sorrow. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he found reprieve as he realized he would never have to fight that demon ever again. He’d overcome it in that one split second of transformation.

Tipping her chin down, she looked at him with wet, brown eyes.

“Why?” she asked.

Ignoring her plea, he pulled her to him and held her against his chest. He held her there for a very long time, the silence of the car enveloping them in a protective embrace. When her body finally relaxed and he felt her earlier sadness drift away, he ran his palm down the side of her neck, over the swell of her breast and trailed across her rib cage in one long caress. She sucked in a gasp of air.

As if she’d bitten him, he jerked back.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asked.

Tenderly, she grazed her fingertips over the spot on her left side.

“It’s my ribs. I think they’re a bit bruised.”

“Oh…I thought that I’d hurt you.”

She smiled and cupped his cheek with her hand.

“I’m okay. Really.”

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he shook his head,

“What…kissed me? Why not? Didn’t you like it?”

“That’s not the issue. Of course I liked it, but…”

“But what, Brennan?” She dared.

“But, like you said before, we’re on the opposite sides of things. I had no right to do that.”

“You’ve got a lot to learn about women. You don’t kiss them and then turn around and talk about how you shouldn’t have done it. It’s a real ego killer. Second, you have every right. I don’t know when you’re going to get this Brennan, but you’re free to do whatever you please now. You are no longer someone’s prisoner.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” he said, then opened the door, slid out and slammed the door behind him.



*



She watched him stomp out in the snow, glad for a few minutes to gather her own thoughts. She hated to admit it, but she was just as confused and frustrated as he was. It didn’t help that she could still feel the effects of the alcohol.

Within minutes, Brennan had slipped back into the car with a gush of cold night air.

She was quiet and waited for him to speak first. He reached to the gear shift then paused. He looked at her.

“I found them.”

She knew exactly who he was talking about.

“Okay. What did you find Brennan?”

He spoke clearly, concisely, and she could hear how heavy his heart was with every word.

“It didn’t take long. With the information you gave me, I just followed the trail. Apparently my dad died of a heart attack four years after I disappeared,” He paused, “ and my mom had an emotional break down and has been living in the state mental hospital in Eugene, Oregon.”

Her heart was breaking for him.

“That’s only a four or five hour drive from here. You need to go up there.”

“I know,” he nodded, “I need you to go with me.”

Hadn’t she offered to help him in any way she could? So why, now that he was asking for her to follow through, was she panicking inside?

“I…I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, Brennan,” she said, “I mean, we still haven’t found Carmen.”

“You will,” he said with confidence.

Frustration welled up within her. “

I’m not so sure anymore. We have absolutely no leads,” she hung her head and mumbled, “I can’t imagine where she could be.”

Brennan’s hand closed over hers.

“We’re going to find her. I promise. The whole town is looking for her. Even Victor.”

Shyla’s head snapped up.

“Why? What does he care? I don’t want him anywhere near her.”

“I know you aren’t a fan of his, Shyla, but like it or not, he has contacts and ways of getting things done that the rest of us can’t. He has a better chance of finding her than anyone else does.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want his help. He can just stay the hell away from me and Carmen. Besides, he wouldn’t help me if his life depended on it.”

“Maybe not you, but he’d help the girl, help the town. It would make him look good, and they’d have to show favor.”

Of course, she thought, his motivation was purely selfish.

“I still don’t like it.”

Brennan’s hand tightened around hers.

“Look at me, Shyla.”

She tipped her head towards him.

“I know you’re worried,” he continued, “but it wouldn’t hurt for you to be away for a day or two. It might even be good for you. The authorities, your friends, are working around the clock. All I’m asking for is a day, maybe two. We could leave first thing in the morning and be home within twenty-four hours. I have to go. I have to talk with my mother. But I need someone with me. I need you.”

All resolve crumbled away with that last statement. Never in her life had Shyla felt needed before. Why did life have to be so complicated?

“Fine, I’ll go, but I’m holding you to the twenty-four hour deadline.”