Scarlet Heat Read online

  If I could have given in to my body’s needs and the heat urging me on, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But under the waves of desire, I still felt those awful memories surging. Fear and my past still held me back by the finest thread. I couldn’t help feeling like I was close to breaking that thread, though. If I could only—

  “Well, well, what the fuck do we have here?” A deep voice snarled in my ear. A putrid smell like wet dog assaulted my nose and a heavy hand suddenly landed on my shoulder.

  “LeeAnn said he was fucking a vamp,” said a second voice, sounding disgusted. “Looks like he’s letting her feed on him too—fucking degenerate.”

  In a flash, the heat I was feeling turned to cold fear. My fangs retracted and I stiffened against Victor, my heart going triple time.

  Before I had time to react more than that, Victor was in action. He sprang off the bar stool, knocked the hand off my shoulder and pushed me behind him, all in what seemed like one smooth motion.

  From behind his broad shoulder, I could see three large, angry men surrounding us. The smell of wet dog was coming from all of them. I wrinkled my nose—was this what other werewolves smelled like? Ugh, no wonder my kind didn’t like them.

  “The fuck do you want?” Victor growled. “How dare you bother me when I’m out with my wife?”

  “His wife? You hear that?” The lead guy—the one I assumed had grabbed my shoulder, made a disgusted face. He was wearing a t-shirt with three wolves howling at the moon on it. “He bonded himself to a fanger.”

  “That’s forbidden—not to mention fucking sick,” the second one, who had a black tribal tattoo inked on one side of his face, said.

  The third one simply growled and popped his knuckles, which seemed to gleam strangely in the dim light. Was he wearing something on them? A weapon? I narrowed my eyes—yes, he was wearing brass knuckles except they appeared to be made of silver, not brass. Great.

  “I got no quarrel with you,” Victor said to them. “I’m not in your pack and I’m not planning to join.”

  “Pack law still applies,” Tribal Tattoo said.

  “No, it doesn’t—not off pack land.” Victor took a step forward and rubbed his lower back as though he had a pain there. “Just leave us alone and we’ll go our separate ways. Trust me, boys, you do not want to fuck with me tonight.”

  “Oh yes, we fucking do,” Three Wolf Moon Shirt growled. “You’re fucking around with the natural order of things—we can’t let that stand. It’s an offense.”

  “To who—LeeAnn?” Victor demanded. “I don’t want anything to do with her.”

  “Then you can deal with us instead.” Brass Knuckles stepped forward and took a swing.

  He must have caught Victor by surprise because his fist connected with Victor’s cheek, whipping his head back and to the side. For a split second, I saw his face—the eyes glowing gold in the dim club, his lips curled back in a snarl that showed he had fangs of his own—short but very sharp. And then he turned to face the men again, a low growl emanating from his big body.

  “You fuckers,” he snarled and sprang into action.

  It was three against one but none of the other men stood a chance once Victor took after them. The Latin beat still pumped in the background, the lights strobing on the dance floor as they fought. We were in a dark corner but I couldn’t help wondering how long it would be before someone saw us and called the cops.

  The other weres didn’t even try to fight fair—they all came at Victor at once but it didn’t seem to matter—he was like a machine. The back of his jacket split with a low purring sound as he punched one man and elbowed another in the face. Then the third, Brass Knuckles, came at him from behind and punched him in the kidneys. Victor groaned and put a hand to his lower back, his eyes glowing even brighter.

  I had been frozen before, standing just outside the sphere of the action. But seeing the way they were ganging up on the man I cared about turned the ice that surrounded me into pure, hot hate.

  “You bastard!” I yelled. I’ve never been much of a fighter before—okay, I’ve always been a big wimp, I admit it—but I jumped on the guy’s back and sank my fangs into his neck from behind.

  He let loose with a high-pitched wail and forgot all about Victor as he tried to dislodge me.

  “It bit me! It bit me!” he screamed, sounding more like a little girl than a big tough werewolf. He spun in circles until I was dizzy, trying to get me off him.

  I bit him again even though his blood tasted oily and disgusting on my tongue. I sank my fangs in deep and snarled in his ear. Honestly, I hardly knew myself. Where was Taylor, the shy little girl who never stood up to bullies? Where was the doormat Celeste had stepped on for so many years?

  She was gone. In her place was a wild woman—a woman who cared enough to fight for her man. I’m a vampire, I reminded myself as I clawed Brass Knuckles in the face, taking grim satisfaction at the feeling of my nails sinking into his flesh. I can take these bastards!

  “Hey! Hey, break it up!” The voice seemed to be coming from far away. I was so into my attack I could barely hear. From somewhere near the front of the club, voices were shouting and someone was yelling, “It’s a fight—they’re fighting!”

  Then someone was prying me off the screaming were and pulling me toward the dusty exit door. I tried to go back—I wasn’t through with him yet. Wasn’t done taking revenge for his attack on my man.

  “Come on,” Victor said in my ear, pulling harder on my arm. “We have to go—they’re sending the police!”

  That finally got through to me. I didn’t want to spend the rest of the night in a holding cell and be stuck in the police station during the day when the sun was up. I went with Victor, my heels clattering on the floor as he hit the push bar of the exit door.

  The door slapped open, revealing a dark alley lit only by a single anemic streetlight. It shed a sickly yellow glow over the stained pavement and crumbling brick walls. Behind us, I could hear shouting and angry voices but Victor didn’t slow down.

  I risked a quick glance over my shoulder as we raced through the door and saw some men in uniforms converging on the spot we had been fighting. The three weres were lying on the floor, all obviously injured. Three Wolf Moon’s leg was bent at a wrong angle and Tribal Tattoos was holding his arm and howling. Brass Knuckles was still scrabbling at his bleeding neck, sobbing like a little girl that he had been bitten.

  Then the door slammed shut and Victor and I were running blindly down the alley, just trying to get away.

  Chapter Sixteen—Victor

  After about three blocks, we stopped, panting, and I was able to take stock of the situation. The burning of the brand at my lower back had subsided somewhat and I was feeling more in control, which was good.

  I looked at Taylor, wanting to make sure she was all right. Her hair was wild and there was blood smeared like lipstick in the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were shining in the dim light.

  “You okay?” I asked her warily. I was still a little in awe of her performance back at the club. I hadn’t thought she had it in her to get so wild but I’d had to literally peel her off the were with the silver knuckles and she’d made fucking hamburger out of his neck.

  “I think so.” She spat on the ground and then looked at me. “Oh, sorry—I guess that wasn’t very ladylike. I just, uh…that guy’s blood tastes awful.”

  “Baby, nothing you just did was ladylike. It was still fucking amazing, though.” I grinned at her. “Didn’t know you could get so crazy—you messed that guy up bad.”

  “He was hurting you. I saw him punch you here.” Her hand went to the small of my back where the brand was still throbbing.

  I jumped away from her touch reflexively. I couldn’t have her hands on me there—not when the curse was weighing so heavily on me. Strong emotions—excitement, anger, lust, fear—always brought the monster inside me closer to the surface. I’d had enough of all those feelings to take me right to the edge tonight—it wouldn’t