Alpha Trio 3: A Special Taste by Ana Vela Page B

did she even know about vamps?
     
    He sniffed again. Not Shifter. But not quite human, either. He could hear her heartbeat, slightly rapid from her exertion. She was sitting to his right, her breath a cool puff on his cheek, her legs pressed against his. He pictured her carrying him in here, one of his arms slung over her shoulders, and collapsing to the floor with him. It seemed a plausible scenario. But now matter how he tried, he couldn’t picture her as a big, muscle-bound weight lifter. That glimpse of black and white silk before he’d passed out... that had been her. He was sure of it. The image it conjured in his head was a petite woman, but that couldn’t be right.
     
    He reached out slowly in the darkness. His fingers skimmed silky skin. He felt her stiffen. Was he touching her arm? He brushed fabric. The softness that greeted his palm almost made him groan. God, she felt good. And then he felt her nipple tighten against his fingers and stilled in shock.
     
    “Yes, I dragged you in here. Not to make out though, so how ‘bout taking your hand off my tit?” Her tone was wry, but Grig jerked as if she’d screamed at him, yanking his hand back.
     
    “Uh. Sorry.” He felt heat sting his cheeks and was glad of the darkness. She chuckled, the sound a velvet caress over his skin.
     
    “No need to blush, wolfie. Honest mistake. It is a bit dark in here.” He could hear the slightly twisted sideways smile in the words.
     
    Could she see him? Impossible. There was no light coming in anywhere. Even his Shifter eyes saw only pitch black. No human could see through this darkness. Grig shook his head, which still ached. But he didn’t feel the least bit drunk anymore.
     
    He shifted, grimacing slightly at the twinge in his side. Then he froze. A twinge. Before he’d passed out the tear in his side had burned as if the vamps had opened him up and lit a fire inside. Now, it ached like a week old bruise. And the gash in his throat that had been leaking his lifeblood?
     
    Grig raised his hand and pressed against the side of his neck. His skin was tacky with blood, but unbroken. His heart hammered in his chest. Shifter healing ability was accelerated, but it should have taken him much longer to recover from such grievous wounds. Days, at least. But he was healed.
     
    He could still feel the raised ridge where the skin of his throat had knitted back together, and he still felt battered and a little dizzy, but he was better than he had any right to be.
     
    “How?” he croaked. Beside him, the woman sighed.
     
    “Well, you took care of the fat one. I got the drop on the one your back and Ginsued his heart from behind. You’d did a number on the short one too, with your claws, so he was easy. That left only two of ‘em, and one ran.” He felt her shoulder brush his as she shrugged. “Decapitated the last one and then dragged your ass here quick in case Drac ran to get some more friends.”
     
    That hadn’t been what he’d meant, but the information was welcome anyway. Still, she’d killed three vampires by herself? Grig’s hand wrapped around her upper arm and yanked her closer, their chests colliding, as if he could stare into her face, despite the complete blackness of their hideout.
     
    “Who are you?”
     
    There was a long moment of silence, in which he felt the tickle of her breath against his lips. Her arm was slender but toned beneath his fingers, the muscles supple as they flexed beneath her smooth skin. It was clearly a strong arm, but strong enough to carry his dead weight? With each breath she took, long and slow, he could feel the brush of her breasts against his chest.
     
    The shirt she was wearing, a t-shirt he thought, was thin and she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples were hard. Grig bit back a growl at the surge of lust that swirled in his gut. He didn’t even know what she looked like and he wanted to bear her back onto the floor, crawl between her thighs, and thrust wildly into