Edge of Hunger

“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but it isn’t going to work, because anyone who knows me can tell you that I don’t give a shit about anybody but myself.”

“I don’t believe you,” she argued. “Not after the things that Elaina has told me about you.”

He smiled coldly, clearly disbelieving every word she’d said. “You wanna lead some guy on a wild-goose chase, try some other sucker, but leave me out of it. In fact, why don’t you give the local sheriff a call? I can guarantee he’ll get a kick outta you, sweetheart. You’re just Saint Riley’s type. He’ll be more than happy to help you try and save the world.”

“Dammit, this isn’t—”

She’d reached out to grab his arm as he moved past her, recognizing it as a mistake the second he looked down, the deep, raging blue of his gaze driving straight into her, all hostile and violent and strangely arousing.

The words tumbled past her lips without any direction from her brain. “She said that when the darkness calls—”

He tensed so quickly that her voice faltered, and she knew she’d struck a nerve. There was no give in the burning, powerful muscles beneath her hand—the bulging bicep rigid with fury…and something that she couldn’t put a name to. Taking a deep breath, Molly repeated the words Elaina had told her to say. “When the darkness calls, your mother said that you’ll know. That you’ll find—”

“No.” His lips barely moved as he ground out the word. “No fucking way.”

Trying not to get lost in those feverishly blue eyes, Molly stared up at him, imploring him to believe her. “She wants me to explain, Ian. Explain the things that she should have told you before. Warnings that she should have given you before you left home. Please, just listen to me!”

“You can find your own way back down the mountain,” he growled, yanking his arm from her hold with ridiculous ease. “Just stay the hell away from me.”

A moment later, he was slamming the door to his truck while he cranked the engine, leaving her standing in the cloud of dust kicked up by his tires.

When he cast one last look in his rearview mirror, she was still standing in the same spot, alone…watching him run from something that Molly knew he had no chance of evading.

It was one of the elemental truths of the universe. Night would always follow day. Summer would always follow spring. Death would always follow life. And try as you might, you could never outrun something that was already a part of you. She’d learned that lesson the hard way—and still carried the guilt to prove it.

Whether he believed her or not…listened to her or not…gave in or forever told her to go to hell, Molly knew one thing with absolute, undying certainty:

Ian Buchanan’s past had finally caught up with him.

CHAPTER TWO

The Midnight Hour

KENDRA WILCOX’S MOTHER had always warned her about picking up strange men. Especially beautiful ones. Ones who were too good to be true. But the stranger she’d met back at the bar was her best chance at getting over Ian Buchanan once and for all. No way in hell was she going to turn him down.

She’d waited for hours, but Ian hadn’t shown for their weekly Friday night bump and grind. Now she was pissed enough to do something reckless. Not that she cared about Ian Buchanan, she silently vowed, knowing very well it was a lie. Damn pain in the ass had wormed his way under her defenses, and she knew she was going to end up hurt. Hell, she was hurting already.

She needed this. Needed tonight. Needed to bang him out of her system, which was why she was now speeding down the road with the windows down, the midnight wind whipping through her hair…in another man’s ride.

Mr. Tall Blond and Deadly Handsome was going to be the perfect medicine for what ailed her. And if Ian found out about it later, all the better. His outrageous ego could use a good dent or two.

Kendra turned her head and smiled at the stranger beside her, remembering how he’d asked her, back at the bar, if she liked to be taken in the moonlight, under the skies, where she could scream as loud as she liked when she came—and he’d promised she’d come, harder and heavier than she ever had before. Thinking it would serve Ian right if she found someone new to scratch her sexual itches, she only hoped he proved to be as good as he claimed.

They pulled into a grassy meadow a few miles outside of town, and he came around to her door, taking her hand to lead her out into the verdant open field. She felt wild and reckless, like the night, the shots of tequila she’d downed with him before leaving the bar making her head feel fuzzy. Her mouth was dry.

The tall, blond Adonis smiled down at her, his ice-blue eyes shining bright and deliciously wicked in the silvery rays of moonlight bathing their bodies. Her head filled with the fertile scents of the forest, the damp ground beneath her feet, and his masculine warmth. He was so hot, he felt as if he had a fever, the skin of his palms burning as he curved them over her shoulders.

“Do you like it hard, Kendra?”

“Oh, yeah,” she slurred, pushing out her chest so that he could see her braless nipples pressed clearly against the thin cotton of her tank top. “The harder, the better.”

A low laugh rumbled up from his chest. He grabbed the thin cotton, ripping her shirt in half, making her gasp, then bent forward and captured one naked nipple in the dark, electric heat of his mouth. Between her legs, she grew warm and wet and swollen. Oh, yeah, this beauty was going to be sweet payback against Buchanan. She hoped he told everyone in Henning about tonight. Hoped Ian would hear all about how wildly she’d ridden this gorgeous stranger beneath the hazy light of the moon.

His teeth grazed her flesh, making her shiver and she started to call out his name…only to draw a blank.

Holy shit! She couldn’t remember it! The thought struck Kendra as hilariously funny and she gave an uncharacteristic giggle, making him grin against the underside of her breast. Oh…wouldn’t her mother love to know that a man she couldn’t even name was pressing his mouth against her naked skin, kissing his way up to the hollow of her throat.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he whispered, nipping at her shoulder in a way that had her blood surging.

She grabbed at his denim-covered cock, and he laughed softly under his breath.

“Beg me, honey. I love to hear a woman begging for it.” His breath washed over her throat as he rasped the words against her sensitive flesh, his hands sliding across her ass, fingers kneading her through the denim of her jeans. “Beg me to make you scream.”

“Please,” she gasped, tilting her head to give him better access, ignoring the sudden warning note in her head that signaled something wasn’t…quite right.

Just go with it, Kendra. He can make you forget.Forget…everything. Forget…Ian.

Almost as if the stranger had read her mind, he pressed his forehead to hers, whispering, “Don’t worry, Kendra. After I’m done with you tonight, there won’t be anything left for Buchanan.”

She pulled back to look up at him, and her breath caught. Something about his face seemed…she didn’t know. Different somehow. She blinked her heavy lids, trying to bring him back into focus through her blurry vision, but her eyes refused to cooperate. Then one hand lifted, cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently…so gently against the corner of her mouth. In the moment, she forgot everything but his touch. It was reverent. Like a lover’s—and she realized that in all the time she’d known him, Ian had never touched her like this. Like she was special to him. Her lower lip trembled. She sighed, floating, somehow lost in the searing heat of this stranger’s gaze.

Then he smiled.

The curve of his lips was so beautiful, it took her tequila-soaked mind a moment to realize what he’d just said.

Buchanan! What the…? How did this man—this newcomer to the mountains—know about her and Ian?

“How—”

“Shh…” he whispered, pressing his hand over her mouth. “No more time for questions.”

He gave a low, rough laugh, and Kendra watched in shock as his face seemed to rearrange itself within his skin. She heard something pop, then crack, followed by the chilling sound of bone snapping into place.

Panicking, she turned to run but stumbled. He had her down before she’d gone more than a few yards, his muscled weight crushing her into the damp ground.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, flipping her to her back and pinning her arms above her head with an effortless strength that awed as much as it terrified. She watched through wide, burning eyes as his intent spread across the distorted features of his face like a stain, and a choked sound broke from her throat. A dry cry lost somewhere between a sob and a whimper. “No more time to play, Kendra,” he whispered. “Only time enough to die.”

And he wasn’t lying.

Everything that happened after that came to her in nothing but broken fragments—consciousness shattered by terror and disbelief and indescribable pain. She wanted to cry, but her mind was too numb. She wanted to fight back, but her body lay there upon the blood-soaked ground, too broken and weak.

She wanted to tear the son of a bitch to pieces, the same way he was tearing her apart—but in that, she failed, as well.

He’d cut her; deep slices in her stomach…her chest? She couldn’t tell; she hurt everywhere. Even deep inside, where he’d ripped her open with the vicious pounding of his body into hers. Everything faded—the sapphire stars in the sky, the chirping of the grasshoppers, the rich pine scent of the towering trees—until there was nothing. Nothing but the great rolling waves of pain that made everything black and ugly and raw.

She thought of Ian, and realized how stupid she’d been.

But her last thought, as his teeth sank into her throat, was that mother had been right after all.