Night Hunt Ch. 15

Some vampires, like Rafe, retained most of their humanity and didn't approve of slaves. The Governance, however, continued to allow the practice, as long as the guidelines were followed. It was a concession they had made to keep the needs of certain individuals in check.

Tyrus clenched his jaw, forcing his features to harden. Nobody could ever know the truth, not even Rafe.

"I figured it was about time for me to see what all the fuss was about. The opportunity presented itself, and I took it. Look at her... you're telling me you could resist that? Let me say, she's turned out to be lovelier than I expected."

He saw the look of disappointment in Rafe's eyes. The demon gave a shrug and simply said, "to each his own. I mean no offence, Tyrus. I'm just surprised is all."

"Look, I'm treating her well. I'm not breaking any rules, and she's mine to keep."

"Does she know she can never walk away from this? What happens when your blood loses its effect on her?"

Tyrus looked away, trying not to let Rafe see that his words had gotten to him. He had gone through the same thoughts himself. Thoughts that he should have had a week ago, when he had thought with his dick instead.

They stood side by side in silence, as they watched Rafe's team pack away the den's computers, and anything else they thought might be of use to their investigations. They had a van hidden nearby, where they could load up everything to take back to the city. Connor and Sam were getting their statements taken by another pair of agents, but they looked like they were wrapping up.

"Alright, that's the last of it," Rafe said as his crew prepared to walk out to the van. "Thanks Tyrus, I'm not sure we would have gotten this far without you and your friends. That thing at the bar? Good call."

He clapped Tyrus on the shoulder before walking back to one of his crew members. Before long, he was deep in discussion, likely determining the next steps his team would take over the next few days.

Tyrus gave the area one last look, before going to Anya and Lara. They stopped their chatter as he approached. Anya caught his gaze and bit her lip. They had spent the better part of last night in some very interesting positions, which she was no doubt recalling now. A growl escaped him when he caught a fresh whiff of her desire. He reached for her, and she snuggled up under his arm.

"Aw look at you two lovebirds," Lara cooed.

"Rafe's team can take over now. We should get out of this town, before people realise there are too many of us and we start to raise suspicions," Tyrus said, ignoring her comment.

"Well, it's been fun," Lara said, "but I've got to head back to my place for a couple of days. I was in the middle of some Primakov business when Maraav called. I'll join you in the city when I'm done. Looks like it's about time I moved back to the city, now that Anya knows everything. Tyrus, I'm trusting you with Anya. Take care of her. If you ever hurt her, I'll rip your heart out and stuff it down your throat."

Tyrus nodded in acknowledgment. He wasn't worried. He had every intention of doing this right with Anya.

Sam and Connor walked over as Lara and Anya were hugging goodbye.

"Back to the city?" Connor asked.

"Back to the city." Tyrus replied.

****

Sam sat alone in her motel room, sorting through her texts and emails. It was slow going, given that the motel had really shitty reception.

They were still a day away from the city, and had stopped to rest for the night between travelling. She was feeling restless after a whole day of driving on her own. Although, she was glad that Connor had opted to third wheel with Anya and Tyrus for the trip back.

There was a strange new tension between them, that neither of them cared to acknowledge. They'd even quit their usual bickering, and now avoided eye contact altogether.

The group had shared a quick dinner, and then Tyrus and Anya had made a hasty retreat back to their room. Which meant that Sam and Connor had scrambled back to their own rooms to avoid being left alone with each other.

Just then, Sam's phone vibrated twice with a couple of new texts, drawing her attention back to it. They were from Marilyn, one of her girlfriends in the city. She smiled. Boy was she looking forwarded to meeting up with her friends again the moment she got back. She tapped the notification on her screen, bringing up the chat thread.

Sam frowned. Marilyn had sent a dark, grainy photo, followed by a short message:

Caught him red-handed. Thought you should know. I'm sorry.

Her brain caught up just then, registering what she was looking at. Her boyfriend had his arm around a scantily-clad woman, who was sitting on his lap. It looked like they were huddled in one of the semi-private booths at Le Bastille.

She stared at the blurry image, hoping her girlfriend had been mistaken, but there was no denying Enrique's profile. And no missing the fact that he had his hand buried halfway down the woman's low-cut top as well.

All of a sudden, Sam couldn't hear anything beyond the blood pounding in her ears. A sudden image flashed in her mind of Enrique fucking the bitch in her apartment... in her bed.

Her stomach roiled. She was going to be sick. Fingers trembling, and before she could even think about what she was doing, she dialled for Enrique. Her phone bleeped and the line went dead before it could ring.

No reception. Just great. Sam lifted her phone to the motel room's window, willing the little reception bars on the corner of her screen to appear. No luck.

With a huff, Sam got up and opened her door. She had a bone to settle with a philandering incaendo demon, and bad reception was not going to stop her. Standing outside in the chill night air, she tried again. This time, the call went through.

He picked up on the fifth ring. "Hey Baby, I missed you."

Loud music played in the background, swallowing up his words. Even then, Sam thought she heard a muffled giggle through the phone.

"You miss me? Then why do you have some other woman in your lap right now?" Sam challenged, raising her voice in response to the loud music on the other side.

"What? Baby you must be mistaken. Where are you? Are you back?" Enrique's voice crackled over the phone.

Sam pulled her phone away from her ear and looked at it in disbelief. He was cheating on her, and he had the cheek to try to cover it up?

"Don't try to lie to me Enrique. No, I'm not back. My friend saw you," Sam replied angrily.

"I'm not lying baby, your friend must have seen some other guy," Enrique stated calmly.

"She didn't. She sent a photo. Stop trying to cover up. I deserve the truth at least," Sam said tersely, pissed that he could lie to her face so easily.

"Okay okay, so I'm out with another woman," Enrique conceded. "But baby, it's not my fault! You left me here all alone, in this city. You know how lonely I get when you're not around. It's been so long!"

"It's been five days Enrique. Are you saying it's my fault you couldn't even wait a week before you went sniffing around? I thought we had something real!" Sam retorted, not even caring that her voice was rising.

"We do! I love you, mi carina. Please, forgive me. Come back home. We'll make love, and everything will be better, I promise. I'll never do it again," he pleaded.

Sam closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. She wondered how he managed to sound so earnest, when he probably still had some other female wrapped around him.

"I was coming back to you, you asshole. And you're right, this will never happen again. Because I'm done with you. Goodby-"

"Wait! Sam!"

Sam paused, wondering what on earth the jerk thought he could say to turn this around.

"How do you feel about open relationships?" He said huskily, using the voice that usually got her out of her clothes and into bed with him.

She gasped in outrage.

"Have a nice life without me, you lying, cheating asshole! You'd better be gone from my apartment by the time I get back!" Sam yelled angrily, then hung up.

She stood still for a moment, trying to gather herself. Behind her, someone cleared their throat.

Sam whirled around to find Connor standing outside his door, just two rooms down from hers. Apparently, she had yelled loud enough to draw him out.

"How much of that did you hear?" She asked, trying to keep her voice even.

He averted his gaze, and she knew that he'd heard enough. Hot tears stung her eyes. One escaped and tracked down her cheek. She swiped at it angrily with the back of her hand, hating that Connor had, once again, caught her in a vulnerable moment.

"Don't say it. I know what you're thinking. Go ahead and gloat." She glared at him, but then her lip trembled.

Connor looked stricken with panic as more tears spilled down her cheeks. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Ah, hell Sam. What did you think I was going to say? I'm not happy that your boyfriend proved to be a jerk. He's a dickhead, who couldn't see that he had a good thing going. I was just trying to warn you," Connor said softly.

Shifting uncomfortably, he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "You uh... want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, and almost smiled as he tried to hide his relief. Somehow, she found it difficult to imagine the two of them sitting around, sharing a heart to heart conversation.

"Wanna head to the pub next door and get shit-faced?" He offered. She perked up a little at that.

"Fuck yeah," Sam answered, brushing away the last of her tears with a sniffle. "Now you're talking."

"Alright then," Connor said.

Ten minutes later, she found herself sitting across from Connor, holed up in a dark corner of the pub. A bottle of bourbon sat between them on the table, two glasses already half gone.

She shook her head, sighing. "How could I have believed in him like that? He proved me so, so wrong."

Connor frowned. "Look Sam, this male is not worth even a second more of your time. I may be a firm believer in casual hookups, but I would never string a woman along. I'm always upfront about what I want. You did not deserve what he did to you. Enough talk about him. Tonight, you're going to forget that he ever existed. You with me?"

He raised his glass towards hers in invitation. She knew he was right. Enrique didn't deserve her, and he definitely didn't deserve any more of her tears. She lifted her chin, meeting Connor's gaze head on, raising her glass to clink against his.

"Good riddance," she said, before downing the rest of her glass.

He joined her, swallowing the contents of his glass before setting it down and topping up both their drinks.

"So... tell me," Connor said, "how did you learn to get so good in the forest?"

"You mean, how did I learn to move faster and stealthier than you?" Sam said, welcoming the change in subject.

He grinned at that, and Sam smiled back tentatively, feeling a little of the odd push-pull between them returning.

"Hey, someone's forgetting about a little moment in the forest... What was it that happened? Oh yes... I saved your life."

"That was after," she said, wagging a finger in the air. "I just missed the vampire's heart by an inch. A careless mistake that I will never make again. Let's rewind to the part where I beat you in our race and you didn't even know it till I was right on top of you."

"Ok fine," he grumbled, "I'll let you have that one... this time. Now answer the question. You're as comfortable in the forest as any werewolf. Are all elves like that?"

"You think wolves are the only ones who know their way around nature?" Sam lifted her fingers, counting them off in an exaggerated motion. "What about nymphs, faeries, gnomes, fauns- "

"Ok ok I get the picture," Connor laughed, raising his arms in surrender. "I'm not some backward, ignorant bigot, alright? My best friend is a vampire, and I play basketball with a bunch of demons and shifters from time to time. It's just elves I don't know a lot about."

"Fine, I'll explain it slowly," Sam said, as if obliging a young child. "Try to keep up. All elves are connected to the elements. Depending on what type of elf you are, you usually have a deeper connection to one or two elements. My bloodline is close to fauna and water. Tuning in to those elements helped me beat you that day."

"How?" Connor asked, leaning forward with interest.

"It's hard to put into words," Sam said with a shrug. "It's sort of like... I can tap into the forest. Feel what it feels, take energy from it. With some training, I learnt to use some of its magic as well. I trained for a long time in forests you know. They're like home to me."

Connor nodded in agreement. "Yeah, me too. There's nothing quite like it."

They shared a moment in agreeable silence, sipping their bourbon thoughtfully.

"Ok," Sam said, topping up their glasses again. "Your turn to spill. What's it like when you're in your wolf form?"

"It's like..." Connor stopped, thinking about how to describe it to Sam, "being born again. My senses are sharper, faster. I see the world differently, as though it suddenly became four dimensional. And I'm far more animal than man, although the man in me never really goes away. When I'm the wolf, I feel... Like a different version of myself. Better in some ways, different in others."

He shrugged, as if unsatisfied by his explanation.

"How bad does it hurt when you turn? That did not sound pretty," Sam asked curiously.

"Yeah it hurts like a bitch," Connor said, making a face. "Every damn time. Not as bad as the first few times you try though. And you learn to get faster at it. Kind of... compress the pain a little."

She shot him a bothered look. "It hurts like that every time?"

"Aw sweetie, careful there. You almost look like you care," he drawled. "You know, I can't complain, if it means I get to be the wolf. It's worth it."

They carried on with the conversation, talking about everything and nothing at all. Sam was surprised at how easily it flowed. The werewolf even made her laugh more than once, when they started comparing who had experienced the most epic fight. Connor won, when he described how he had unwittingly disturbed a group of banshees after shifting back to his human form, and had to fight them off, naked.

It was not long before they had emptied the bottle of bourbon. Sam was surprised to find that they had been sitting there for over an hour. And she'd barely thought of Enrique. Sure, she was still hurting from the shock of what he had done, but the actual pain of the breakup somehow wasn't as bad as she'd thought it should have been.

"Well, I guess we should head back," Sam said. "It's another long drive tomorrow."

She was feeling more than a little buzzed. Supernaturals had a better time of managing their alcohol, but they had been drinking pretty fast. Connor looked like he was in a similar state.

"Uh oh," She muttered as she pushed herself up from the table and lost her balance, tipping to the side before she could correct herself. Connor was suddenly there, wrapping a firm arm around her waist to steady her. Heat spread through her at the contact.

"Whoa there princess," the werewolf said gruffly as they stumbled out of the pub. He kept his arm around her, and she let herself lean into him. Purely to keep from falling, of course.

"Why does you being tipsy suddenly make you weigh two hundred pounds?" Connor grumbled as they took a few clumsy steps towards the motel.

"Does not. Besides, two hundred pounds should mean nothing to you. You probably feel it because you had just as much to drink," Sam retorted.

"You're the one who wanted to get shit-faced instead of talk," Connor reminded her.

"Don't think I didn't see how pained you looked when you offered to talk. I was giving you the easy way out," Sam countered.

"So much for being grateful. Next time, don't come to me when you have boyfriend problems," he complained, but the tone of his voice was light rather than insulted.

They bickered all the way across the carpark and into the motel, both wearing goofy grins on their faces like two drunk idiots. Sam was beginning to realise that she actually liked it when Connor and her argued. Some part of her enjoyed that neither of them was willing to back down from the other.

They came to a stop outside of her room door, Connor still holding onto her. He cleared his throat and quickly let go of her.

"Well princess, looks like my work here is done," Connor said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Thanks Connor," Sam said quietly, fiddling with her motel keycard that she had fished out of her purse. "Seriously. Tonight was just what I needed."

Connor said nothing for a while. An odd expression flickered across his face. Before she could figure out what it was, he masked it with a casual smile.

"Anytime," he said, lifting his shoulders nonchalantly. "You gonna be alright?"

She nodded.

"Good. Okay, goodnight then." He turned to go.

"Wait... that's it?" Sam asked. For a moment there, she'd thought... well, nevermind.

Connor turned around to face her, his expression still unreadable. What he failed to hide though, was the brilliant icy glow of his blue eyes. She stepped closer, bringing herself chest to chest with him. Or more like chin to chest, since he was so much taller than her. Connor froze.

"Sam..." he said roughly, then stopped, as if debating something with himself.

Well, if he couldn't figure it out, then she'd make the decision for them both. Taking a deep breath, she threw her hands up around his neck, pulling herself up on tiptoe until they were nose to nose.

"Sam, no."

Firm hands wrapped around hers and brought them back down to her sides. Connor was shaking his head at her.

Anger blazed through Sam, along with a good dose of embarrassment. She'd practically thrown herself at him, and he was... rejecting her?

"I don't understand you!" She exclaimed. "A couple of nights ago, you propositioned me with sex. Well, here I am, no more boyfriend, no expectations of a relationship, and now you change your mind?"

A deep growl reverberated through his chest. He leaned forward, but stopped short before his nose touched hers.

"Listen princess... there's nothing I want more than to find out exactly how you taste. There's tension between us, and I have every intention of finding out if we can turn it into something more explosive. But when we fuck - and believe me, it's only a matter of time till we do - it won't be because you're trying to forget your dickhead of an ex-boyfriend, or because we've both had too much to drink. When we fuck, it will be because you want me. And then I'll take you, all of you, body and soul."

His eyes blazed into hers, and she realised with a start that hers were glowing, too. Her nipples puckered, and she felt the heat all the way down... to the more interesting parts of her body. She ignored it.

"If you think that all this will still be on the table tomorrow, or any other time, you're mistaken," Sam spat out. Who did he think he was, talking as if he could dictate her choices.

"I will have all of you, princess," Connor reiterated, giving her a knowing look, "or nothing at all."

With a rush of supernatural speed, he was gone. Sam dimly registered the slam of his motel room door in the distance as she took in his last words. What the hell was that?