Read Chasing the Storm Online

Authors: Aliyah Burke

Tags: #Erotic Romance Fiction

Chasing the Storm (4 page)

“Yes, you are. I won’t risk you. I’ll be back soon.”

The kiss he laid on her was enough to stun her so he could close the door in her face. Short, demanding and possessive. That was how she would describe it. Oh, and perfect. She wanted more.

She sat on the tub’s edge and tried not to scream when she heard thumping and scuffling out in her living area. A cry of pain had her at the door and bolting up the short hall. He might be unwilling to risk her, but she wasn’t about to let him be killed or injured protecting her.

The sight she stumbled into gave her a moment’s pause.
Maybe this is a movie. It sure seems like it should be one.
Grotesque creatures were in her living room. Some with wings, some without. Scales, fangs and tails.
Yep, looks and sounds like a movie to me.

However, and this was entirely unfortunate, the sounds they were making as they attacked Cale were all too real. Flames and lightning arced around the room. She wanted to run and hide, but she couldn’t leave him alone. He fought five and she watched a sixth move around to land some hits from behind. And that was the one she focused on.

Hugging the wall, she inched her way along, stopping to grab the cast iron skillet she’d yet to put away. The heavy weight brought comfort. She swung it hard at the head of the thing watching and waiting for his shot. He crumpled like a ragdoll and she moved on to the next, swinging and cringing at the sounds that filled the room.

The silence, when it came, was deafening. Sweaty, she bent over and rested her hands on her knees, struggling for breath. Noxious odours stung her eyes and had them watering fiercely.

“I thought I told you to wait back there!” Cale thundered.

“What the hell is all this?” she retorted.

He gripped her upper arms gently, despite the ferocity in his expression. “You got hurt.”

True, the things had nicked her a few times. But he bore more injuries than she did. “What about you? You’re bleeding on my floor.”

“I’ll heal.”

“So will I. But I still think these should be cleaned out. I’m guessing their nails weren’t exactly sanitary.” She turned and led the way back to the bathroom. “What the hell was all that? Things with wings, fangs, tails and I don’t even want to know what the hell they were shooting from their mouths or hand-thingies.”

Digging for the alcohol, she released him then pulled it out along with some wipes. Then went back in for the peroxide. In the mirror she caught sight of his expression. Angry. Dangerous. Sexy as hell.

“Not pleased with the disobeying.”

“Yeah, I get that,” she replied. She opened the alcohol and looked at the cut on her arm before pouring it over the cut. A sharp breath left her in a hiss.
Holy mouldy shit! That hurts like a mother.

“Are you crazy?” He grabbed the bottle from her.

Eyes streaming tears, she struggled again to breathe. Lord she wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. “I don’t know what crap they had on them. I’m not looking to get sick.”

“I could have healed you.” He shook his head and pushed her so she sat on the counter. “Hold still.”

“Not sure why you’re sounding so exasperated,” she muttered. “I didn’t pour the shit on you.”

Chapter Three

 

 

 

The chick was crazy. Cale strove for patience as he stared down at her. Even under the bright lights of the bathroom, she looked innocent and delectable. Her eyes shone from the tears she’d shed, but they were alert.

He couldn’t believe it. Or wasn’t sure if he should or not. She’d come out to help him. With a cast iron skillet no less. He was going to enjoy figuring her out. His own injuries burned, but he knew he had to ensure her safety first—his body would protect him.

The scratches on her shoulder worried him the most. The demon’s claws had torn through her shirt and into flesh. He had to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind in the wounds. The little bastards were good at doing such things.

“Take your shirt off. I need to check your shoulder.”

“No way. Cut the sleeve and get access. I’m not undressing in front of you.”

“We will see each other naked soon enough, Taylor. And as much as I’m looking forward to it, this is about your safety, not pleasure.”

“Those lines work on other women?”

He furrowed his brow. “Other women?”

“Yes, do they? You know what, don’t care. I’m not taking off my shirt. You can do it as I said, or I’ll take care of it myself.”

“You just dragged me down to this room with the intentions of cleaning injuries. Now you’re shy?”

“I know you have a lot on your back you couldn’t get. I was being helpful. Our own we could reach and they could have been cleaned by the individual but we could have shared the sink.”

“You know you’re ignoring the part where I said we’d be seeing each other naked soon enough.”

She held his gaze and gave a grin he wasn’t sure was kind. “I figured you’re getting woozy from blood loss and just speaking out of your ass. So I decided it wasn’t worth addressing.”

He laughed and cut her sleeve so he had access to her injury. She was right—he could reach it this way. So perhaps he’d just wanted her shirt off. “I’m far from woozy. Hold still.”

Cale could smell the stench left behind by the demon. They did it so if the person didn’t die, they could find them again and either torture them or just play with them until they grew bored then killed them off. He focused on each tear and made sure nothing had been left behind. Then he pressed his lips to the corner—it wasn’t necessary, but he wanted to—of the injury and allowed his power to seep into her.

He didn’t move until the wounds had closed themselves. There would be a scar, but at least the poison and threat was gone. From that, anyway.

The colours were surging around her and they lit him from the inside out. Biting the inside of his cheek, he focused on the rest of her injuries. Then he stepped back, needing some space between them.

“What happened?” Her tone was low and full of awe. “It was like I could feel warmth flowing through me.”

“Do you have any other places that they got you?”

“No. And I’m sure I don’t need you to check for yourself.”

“Such a shame. I would have loved inspecting you for some.”

“Don’t think I’m not noticing how you’re trying to avoid my questions, Cale. But let me tend to your back. Then I’ll press for answers.”

He didn’t need her to do anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to step away. He wanted her hands on him, and if this was the way to do it at the moment, he’d take it. Cale shrugged out of his shirt, wincing slightly as the injuries pulled.

“Please don’t dump alcohol on them.” He offered her his back. “Peroxide is fine.”

“How are you not collapsed in a pile on the floor with all of these?”

He didn’t respond, for he didn’t feel she was truly asking him, more making an observation. The smell of the hydrogen peroxide filled his nose and he sneezed. Then her touch came and he forgot, briefly, to breathe.

Her hands were warm and comforting as she poured then dabbed. “You know, I would suggest a hospital for this one”—she touched the long wound—“but I have a feeling that would just go in one ear and out the other.”

It would. He glanced at his watch. They had to leave soon, for more would be coming. He didn’t want to rush this, though. He’d felt so restless and unsure for so long. Her touch calmed all that and he wanted to luxuriate in it. Roll in it. Draw her close and crawl inside her where he could be surrounded by this feeling.

“There. Done.”

He stepped away and stared at the ruined shirt in his hand. It didn’t take him long to go to his bag and grab another. She was in the hall when he’d finished.

“So,” she said, staring between him and the minor cuts on her arm, “how’s about you tell me what all this mystical crap is that I’m suddenly involved in.”

“We need to leave.”

“Really? That’s what you’re opening with. I thought it may be more conducive if you told me about that thing you called a demon. The fire or lightning that came out of their mouths. But, sure. Let’s start with we need to leave.” She sat down and glared defiantly at him. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my home.”

He bent over her, hands braced on the arms of her chair. “And those things know where you live. They
will
be back.”

“Let me see. I didn’t have them until you came into my life. So when you leave it, they’ll be gone as well.”

His tattoo shifted, a ripple along his skin, warning him time was running out. He knew there was probably a better way to break this to her but right now, he wanted her out of here and safe.

“They’re after you, sweetheart, and that pendant around your neck. They won’t stop, not ever, not until they get it in their scaly claws and drain your body of every last drop of blood.”

That did it. Her skin paled as the blood rushed from her face. He wasn’t, however, expecting what she did next. She kicked him square in the privates and he went down, swearing as stars flickered before his eyes.

Turning after her when she bolted for the door, he lunged to his feet as she jerked open her front door. Then screamed. He saw the demon. It reached for her, but she kicked him too. From the squeal of pain, she’d kicked him harder.

“Taylor!” he shouted.

She ran back to him, panic all over her face. Gathering her close, he went to her balcony then stepped out onto it. More were nearing and behind him he could hear that demon getting on his feet.

Tapping into his power, he jumped over the railing and down the three stories to the ground, her scream following them the entire way. He landed in a crouch, Taylor still in his arms, then he set her feet down as he rose. Linking their hands, he set off at a run.

When she pulled on his arm, he slowed.

“I can’t go anymore,” she wheezed. “Christ.” She fanned her face and gasped a few times.

He watched her struggle to breathe and his concern mounted. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” More wheezing. “What’s
wrong
? You, you’re what’s wrong. You leap off a third storey balcony, carrying me. Then take me on a five mile run.”

“It was hardly a mile,” he corrected.

“For someone who had asthma as a child, it feels more like five or ten. Damn it, I can’t breathe.”

Her chest rose and fell as she tried to calm down. Cale reached for her, but she smacked him away. He rumbled in his throat and grabbed her, pulling her tight to him. They stood near a streetlamp and he stared into her eyes. The fury in them made him proud—she was no wilting flower. She had more spunk than she knew.

Hands on either side of her face, he then repositioned one to rest upon her chest. He didn’t like how fast it moved or how quickly her heart pounded. Still, she never took her gaze from his.

“Trust me,” he murmured before reaching out and allowing their bond to further meld.
That’s right, Taylor. Follow my heartbeat. My breathing.

Soon her rhythms matched his and her colour had come back to normal. “I don’t have a clue what you did, but thank you.”

One day he would explain it to her. Not presently, though. “Can you keep going?”

“Somehow I don’t think I have a choice here.”

He smiled at her. “Not really. Let’s go.”

His pace was a bit slower this time. He took them to a parking lot and hovered in the shadows while he searched.

“What are we doing here?”

“Getting a vehicle.”

“I’m not even going to ask.” She walked away, shaking her head.

Locating the one he wanted, he guided her with him. “They’ll get it back, we just have to get out of the city.”

“I meet you and suddenly can be charged with grand theft auto. Lovely.” Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him.

He jumped in the Jeep, grateful there were no doors at all—one less thing he had to take care of—and began hotwiring it as she gingerly climbed into the passenger seat. It rumbled to life and he buckled his lap belt before shifting into gear.

“Oh look,” she drolled humourlessly. “The list of things I don’t want to know about Cale Mattox is getting longer with each passing second.”

“It’ll all be clear soon, Taylor.”

“Of that I have no doubt. I see it now. A lovely eight by four cell with a small window for light. Some huge, mean cellmate named Bertha who wants me as her pet. Sexual pet, of course. Ah yes, my future is so bright.” Exaggerated clapping. “Let’s get this awesomeness started as soon as possible. Don’t know how I can go much longer without Ms Bertha in my life.”

He chuckled at her dramatic picture. “I won’t let you go to jail.”

“’Course you won’t.”

“Get some rest. I’ll wake you when we get where we’re going.”

“Which is where, exactly?”

“A hotel. Out of the way so I can get some rest and heal up. Then we head home.”

She huffed. “So glad we cleared
that
up.”

Cale continued to drive, a smile on his face. The woman beside him was amazing. Of that there was no doubt.

 

* * * *

 

Taylor stirred and sat up. She lay on a bed covered by blankets. Hotel. She recalled Cale mentioning that.
Damn, damn, damn! I thought all that insanity was a dream. Or a nightmare.

He’d left a light on near the bathroom, otherwise the room was dark with curtains drawn tight. She spied him lying on the other double bed that occupied their space. He was between her and the window.

Guess if something is coming in, it’ll be through the window not the door.
She went to the bathroom and took care of her pressing needs. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she washed her hands.

What the hell kind of mess did I fall into?
She thought about her past few hours since Cale had come back into her life. Demons. She shook her head.

“That is insane.” She pointed at herself. “Don’t you start buying into this demon crap.” Canting her head to the side, she sighed. “Not sure how else to explain what I saw. Then there was the thing he did to this”—she stabbed her healed shoulder—“of which I have no logical explanation for either. And let’s not forget whatever the hell it was that happened when he touched the pendant.”

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