Damon cleaned his knuckles in a nearby stream. After the fact, he realised he might have been too harsh on his packmates. But he had barely been in control when he saw Jared gunning to tear Kinsey's throat out. When he had heard her scream on the phone. He only just managed to stop his wolf from ripping into him in front of her. She must think they were monsters enough without witnessing him punishing his subordinates.
They hurt the female, the wolf snarled. No one hurts our female.
He sighed. It didn't matter how many times he told his wolf they were pursuing Kinsey solely to get information from her, and possibly get leverage over Bane for once. The beast had been very eager to see her again. Insistent, really. He was under the impression Damon was finally ready to settle down--and he liked his first pick. A lot.
So, when he saw the dark bruise blooming across her face--and who had done it to her--Damon had a hell of a time reigning the beast in. Jared and Spencer were lucky with the wounds they came away with. It could have been worse.
"We're sorry, boss," Jared mumbled around his broken jaw. Spencer was out cold beside him. "We didn't know you had plans for her."
"I know." Damon heaved a sigh, pulling himself upright and facing his beaten packmates. "Tell everyone in the pack that Kinsey Ashe is off limits. . . no matter what she says about her job."
For a supposed genius, she really wasn't that bright when it came to social cues. He would have thought the trouble she caused the other night at the Howling Moon was enough for her to be wary of who she told where she worked.
Jared barely nodded then inclined his head in submission as Damon shifted then loped over a cluster of ferns for the parking lot. He had to scan the lot from the forest edge to make sure there were no humans before making a break for his truck. He yanked his duffle bag from the bed and climbed into the cab, changing swiftly into jeans and a t-shirt. It was silly for him to rush or even be wary of humans seeing him; after all, he no longer had to hide his other half. He couldn't seem to break out of the habit of sneaking around.
During his drive, his mind raced to find a way to make this right with Kinsey. Getting her to not tell the police was one thing, but for her to want to go on a date with him was an entirely different thing. He didn't blame her if she wanted nothing to do with shifters after her experiences with them. . . . Especially after he had gotten what he wanted from her.
Did he feel guilty for playing her?
Yes. Even if she did work for the Bane Corporation. There had been something in her voice when she said she couldn't kill a spider that made him believe her. Made him believe that maybe not everyone at the Corporation was evil.
Could he live with it?
If it meant keeping his pack safe, yes. He'd do it a thousand times to a thousand women if it saved his people's lives.
She was a grown woman. She'd move on. It wasn't like he was going to physically hurt her. He would make sure she enjoyed her time with him, not only for the sake of ensuring she wanted to see him again, trust him, tell him about the Corporation, but as a form of payment for her contribution to his cause.
The parking lot in front of the Howling Moon was empty, aside from Kalem's Porsche. The bar opened later on Sundays. Plenty of time to sort things out with Kinsey. Hopefully, he could seduce and question her about the Corporation's motives behind her orders.
Inside, when the lights weren't flashing, the bar looked entirely different. The walls were navy, accented by the light gray floors beneath his feet. Stainless and black steel finished off the furniture and bar, giving it a cold, industrial feel. His interior designer had warned him it may off put a few customers, make them feel unwelcomed. She wasn't a shifter, didn't understand the allure of a cold, dark place.
Kinsey was sitting on a barstool Kalem had flipped off the counter for her, a pack of ice pressed to the side of her face. She rotated around to face him; as soon as their eyes met, she quickly turned away, untucking her hair from behind her ears so he couldn't see her face. Being a warrior, he couldn't understand why people were ashamed of their wounds, no matter how nasty they got. She, most of all, should not be ashamed. He was. His men had done this to her.
Kalem cleared his throat. "I'll leave you two alone." He winked at Kinsey on his way out, which Damon was sure meant to be reassuring, but it made her blush, and his wolf stirred angrily under his flesh.
Damon rolled his shoulders back to ease the beast then pulled a barstool off the counter to sit beside her. He studied her, and the dark blemish spreading from behind the bag of ice across her jaw and left eye, thinking of the right thing to say. Her eyes were furtive as much as they were gold, giving him no hints as to how much damage had been done.
"I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls," she murmured, turning her gaze to the wall of glass behind the bar.
Damon was pleased with how the forest landscape turned out on the glass mural--but he didn't want her looking at it. Her perfume surrounded him; the sweetness and innocence of it urged him to touch her, to tilt her head towards him. When he reached for her, she flinched away from him.
Gentle.
He didn't need to be reminded by his wolf to be gentle with this woman.
"I didn't send them after you because you didn't answer my calls." He would never do that, no matter how much it irked him. "They were patrolling my lands, keeping humans off my hunting grounds. You were trespassing." More than trespassed. She was tracking him. Why?
She finally pulled her gaze back to him, a fire flickering in those incredibly unique eyes. "Trespassing? Last I checked, Grimrock Woods is public property--and that was last night, before I set foot on your land."
He liked her sass. He shouldn't. It was in his nature as an Alpha to punish defiance. Coming from her, though, it felt more like a privilege. She was comfortable enough with him, at the very least, that she wasn't afraid to talk back to him. There was hope that his plan might work.
"It's public because I allow it to be. Mayor Paul John and other mayors in the area know this; it is up to them if they tell their citizens."
Frowning, she tilted her head up, seeming to do some mental math while tapping her chin. Once she was done, she stared at him wide eyed. "That's almost thirteen thousand squared kilometers. How do you manage such a big territory?"
He couldn't help feeling a touch of pride in his chest by her impressed tone. There were many Alphas whose territory were more vast than his, and he often considered expanding--until humans became aware of them. Spreading out now was more political than a few scuffs in an alleyway.
"My brothers help me keep order," he confessed. He wasn't the only Alpha to rule with his family's help. Less uprisings took place if family was involved. It avoided jealousy and people feeling left out.
"You have brothers?"
"Two." He bit his lip and tore his gaze from her. He had been raring to tell her about Camen and Dayton, maybe even about Carter if she kept him talking, but the point was to get information from her. The less she knew about him, the less she could tell Bane.
"What were you doing in the woods by yourself?" Not exactly how he had wanted to word it. More like, "Why the fuck are you tracking my movements?" But he couldn't bring himself to speak to her like that.
She slipped off the barstool and fished through the backpack at their feet. She pulled out her phone and GPS, swiping to the pictures she had taken today and the map on the GPS. Damon was surprised by her thoroughness--and the clear trails his pack had made in the forest. He hadn't realised how predictable his trail was; he could tell which markers were his because she had labeled them with a red alpha symbol. Not only did she figure out his standing in the pack, she also knew what his favorite colour was. Which had to be a wild guess, didn't it? A coincidence, even.
He could only stare at the petite brunette, so close to him her warmth made his skin buzz. It was only when he saw her lips moving when he realised she was talking, passionately explaining her research to him. Given that she had avoided contact with him so far, he doubted she had noticed how she had sidled up to him.
He couldn't breathe. Literally. He was afraid if he inhaled her scent, his wolf would start acting crazy again, like he did the last time she was so close.
"I'm so glad Carissa asked me to do this. I'm excited to see my results."
Well, that was a bucket of ice on his balls.
He finally managed to breathe, but he didn't waste any time scenting the pure innocence of her; he was too busy fuming at that blasted name. When his breath brushed her hair, Kinsey froze for a split second then leapt away from him as if he had a contagious disease. She swiftly collected her devices and swept them into the backpack, now holding it in her lap, a barrier between them. He personally didn't mind the space, but his wolf protested and pawed at the ground in his mind, pushing him to close the gap she had made.
He ignored the repugnant beast.
"What, specifically, did Carissa ask you to do?"
Kinsey merely shrugged, avoiding eye contact. He was losing her.
Time to switch gears.
Very gently, possibly the gentlest he had ever been, he reached for her bruised cheek, knuckles grazing ever so slightly across her tender skin. He felt her face heat under his touch. With a simple stroke, he tucked her hair behind her ear, giving him a full view of her beautiful face--to the damage his men had done.
She didn't shy away from him this time, but she wouldn't look at him. The sheen in her eyes was all he needed to know how ashamed she was for the way she looked.
Damon couldn't understand it. She might not be a shifter and her sister might be an evil scientist, but she was absolutely stunning. He'd never met anyone with eyes so unique and striking like hers or hair so effortlessly soft, with a natural curl at the tip. Everything from her lips, breasts, and hips invited him to taste her.
"I'm sorry for what my men did to you," he found himself saying, his voice thick. "They were not ordered to harm you."
She swallowed, hard, still staring at the counter as if it was the one talking to her. "I know. Kalem told me. He said you don't want to hurt me. Th-they thought I was blackmailing you. I tried to tell them I wasn't. I would never. . ." Finally, she brought her gaze up to him, tears moments away from spilling out of the corner of her eyes. "Is someone blackmailing you, Damon?"
He shook his head in the negative. He couldn't bring himself to speak. The concern for him in her tone was too much. By all rights, she should hate him and shifters for the way she had been treated. Yet she was disturbed at the idea of someone threatening him.
"Then why did they want to hurt me? Why do shifters hate me? What did I ever do to them?"
Did he tell her? Risk the only lead he had to bring down Bane?
He moistened his lips.
"Can I tell you a secret?" he asked, playing with one of her curls around her throat. Her heart beat wildly against his fingertips; it sang in his ears. "Shifters are born with regenerative powers, but it's not all in our genes. Our fluids are regenerative. Our blood, sweat, and saliva can all heal."
The distraction worked. It woke up the scientist within her. She turned to him, tears washed away by utter fascination and brilliant curiosity. It was a rather endearing look, like a child at a toy store.
"Is that true? That's amazing! Do you mind if I take a sample? I have a friend who'd love-"
"That's not why I told you." He pointedly brought his gently probing fingers back to her cheek. "I can heal you."
The wonderment froze on her face for a moment then she lifted her hand to her tender cheek, consequently forcing his hand away. "Ho-how would you do it?"
He could see her mind turning the gears, figuring out how he was going to heal her, seemingly thinking of everything but the obvious.
"My saliva should be enough to heal a minor wound." If it was a mortal wound, he would have used his blood, as it was the most potent.
She still wasn't getting where he was going with this. She frowned furiously, trying to decipher his words. "You're going to lick my face?"
He couldn't stop the boisterous laugh that erupted from his lungs even if he wanted to. Maybe one day he would do as she suggested, just to mess with an ignorant human in desperate need of healing. Not today. Not if he had any chance of seducing her.
"No. A kiss will be sufficient. If you wish it."
She stared, mouth hanging open. "You. . . want to. . . kiss me?"
"It's the best way to heal you." It definitely had nothing to do with the tantalizing curve of her lips or the way she just bit them. Or how much he wished she'd bite him with as much fervor.
His wolf purred at the thought.
"Right," she mumbled, talking to herself as she pulled away from him. "It's only to heal me."
"Or, I could lick your face."
His joke snapped her out of her head and made her giggle. A light pink hue dusted her cheeks in her mirth. He liked this look on her. Liked her laugh.
"No, I think you're right: a little kiss on the cheek would be the easiest."
Who said anything about it being little? He was going to enjoy this.
Now that he had consent, he slipped his hand behind her neck and leaned in for her lips. In her surprise, she stiffly gripped his shirt, but she soon relaxed into him and allowed his tongue to explore her mouth. All to make sure he healed her thoroughly, of course.
He held her close, her heart slamming into his chest like an industrial jackhammer. His wolf relished how she molded into him, as if she was made to be held in his arms. When she moaned, a low rumble started in his chest in response.
This woman was dangerous. His wolf liked her far too much, and this kiss? It was sealing the deal for him. She was a little sloppy, but she was a quick learner and was soon taking control, gliding her hands down his back, feeling the ridges of muscle underneath her fingers. It wasn't often a female tried to take control from him, and it was surprisingly arousing. His cock stiffened, and when her thighs pressed into him, he thought he might come in his jeans.
He growled in frustration. The sound scared Kinsey. She broke away from him entirely, breathless and red-cheeked. The bruise and swelling were gone, to his relief.
But it wasn't enough. He wanted more--and she was pulling away from him so fast, he barely caught her wrist in time.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, dropping her gaze again. "I. . . I wasn't expecting that and I forgot that you didn't really want to-"
"Have dinner with me." He would not let her finish that sentence. Mission or not, he would have wanted to kiss her. After that kiss, he was starting to wish it wasn't all for the sake of protecting his people.
Don't go there. Get what you want then get out.
No attachments. Just information.
She blinked up at him. "Wh-what?"
"Tomorrow night at Le Bleu. Six o'clock."
It was bold of him to ask her out after everything that had happened, but he needed that date. The sooner she trusted him, the better off he'd be. The sooner he could get rid of her and the effects of the pheromone Carissa had protected her with.
A timid smile flitted across her face. "Six o'clock at Le Bleu? I'll be there."
By some miracle he had pulled it off. He had his in. Now everything else would fall into place.