Blood Mate: A Paranormal Romance (9 page)

Since that night, she had been
avoiding him. She had been cool and professional when she saw him
again, and she kept their conversations short and to the point. She
filed her reports on time, and she worked hard on her cases. But she
wouldn't be alone in the room with him. And when she looked him in
the eye, it was either with cold indifference, or seething hostility.

He didn't blame her. He
blamed himself.

How could he have hurt her?
She was his, his female, his woman, his Bryn.

And she was the perfect woman,
perfect partner for him. She was strong, tenacious, full of fire and
fight. Even in her anger, her dark eyes blazed with raw heat and
passion.

She was so special, so
perfect, so...precious.

Jett let out a low, strangled
sound. Being apart from her was just sheer torture. Now that he'd
had a taste of her, he couldn't get her out of his goddamn mind. He
wanted her, needed her and ached constantly for her.

Jett logged off and grabbed
his jacket from the back of his chair. Bryn was still in the
building, but not for long. She would be leaving soon. He just had
to see her. Just for a while, and from a distance.

He would keep his distance
from her. He must.

Jett grimaced at the sudden
stab of lust and pain through his body. He closed his fists,
remembering the feel of her slender wrists in his hands. He had
slammed her against the wall and taken her hard and fast, and she had
come for him, violently and explosively. She was amazing, so
exquisite, so damn good.

He wanted her. But he wanted
her safe, and alive.

“
Not mine,” Jett
reminded himself angrily as he sprinted into the lift. As soon as
the lift door opened on the ground floor, he caught a glimpse of her
long braid as she flicked it over her shoulder and pushed through the
revolving doors of the PAC Headquarters.

Jett ran after her. By the
time he shot out of the building, Bryn was already rounding the
corner. His long-legged strides were swift and silent as he followed
her. He saw her stuff her hands into her pockets and hunch her
shoulders as she walked resolutely ahead.

Jett slowed his steps and hung
back. With her vampire senses, Bryn would have heard him or scented
him. Jett gave a small, lopsided smile as he stared at her slim,
pretty profile. Under that pretty, youthful exterior were nerves of
steel.

His mood lightened as he
watched her. Somehow the mere sight of her seemed to make him happy.
It would be so nice to just walk home with her every night, holding
her hand, talking to her...and kissing her.

But that was just a dream. A
dream of a nice, normal life. A life he never knew and would never
have.

Jett followed her at a careful
distance, keeping his eyes on her as she stiffened her shoulders and
marched determinedly ahead. The little vamp was ignoring him on
purpose. She didn't slow her pace, and she refused to glance back.

There were a few wolf whistles
from an alleyway as Bryn walked past. A group of young shifter males
were smoking in the alley, and they whistled and made howling noises
at the sight of the young, pretty vampire. Bryn simply kept on
walking without sparing them a glance.

Jett scowled at the young
males loitering in the shadows as he passed the alley, effectively
silencing the lot of them. He suddenly felt an irrational,
irrepressible urge to punch the lights out of those leering, lusty
youths. How dare they ogle Bryn and make those lewd calls at her?
His knuckles cracked and he let out a low growl. The youths turned
away and slunk further into the alley. They continued smoking and
drinking, laughing at one another's inane jokes. None of them were
foolish and suicidal enough to follow Bryn.

The moonlight reflected off
Bryn's hair. Jett stared at her pale nape, at her glossy braid that
reached all the way down to her waist. Her pretty face and petite
size belied her ferocious strength. She was tenacious and tough as
nails, fiercely loyal and she never gave up.

Jett knew that she had been
nursing a crush on him for a long time. He had heard Charlotte and
Charlene teasing her about it. She had blushed furiously and swatted
them none too gently, but she had never denied it.

Bryn was young and pretty, and
he was sure she had no lack of admirers. Yet, she wanted him.

“
I want you. Only
you.”

Jett swallowed, and forced a
breath into his constricted chest.

I'm not your mate, Bryn,
he thought sadly.
I can never be your mate.

Jett walked quietly behind
her, watching her stomp down the street and turn into a side lane.
He hung back as she ran up the front steps of her house, and put her
hand on the door knob.

Jett watched her from across
the street. She stood in front of the door for a full minute, not
moving, not turning around.

She seemed to be working up
her resolve.

Jett forgot to breathe. His
eyes bore into her back, his heart clenching so tightly in his chest.

Go in, Bryn. Don't turn
around. Don't look at me.

She raised her head as if to
take a deep, steadying breath. She could scent him, and she seemed
to be breathing in his scent, comforting and torturing herself with
the knowledge that he was near.

So near, yet so far away.

Quietly, she unlocked her
front door and stepped into the house. She didn't look back.

The door closed behind her.

Jett leaned his shoulder
against the tree and stared at the small, whitewashed house. A light
came on at the back of the house, and he smiled indulgently as he
imagined the domestic scene in the house.

Bryn must be in the kitchen,
heating up her supper. He imagined her moving around the house,
fixing herself a drink, eating at the kitchen table, chatting with
her grandmother. He knew that Bryn's parents had passed away when
she was just a toddler and she lived with her grandmother. Her
grandmother was human. Bryn wasn't a natural-born vampire. She was
turned when she was seventeen.

She was so young.

While he, at the ripe old age
of thirty-six, was too jaded and so scarred.

She should just give up on him
and forget him.

But the trouble was, he
couldn't give her up. She was his. And he protected what was his
with his life, with a vengeance.

Jett raised his face to the
moon and closed his eyes. He would deny himself, to protect her.

Bryn locked the door behind
her and pressed her back against it. She closed her eyes, taking in
painful, shaky breaths. But with every breath she took, his scent
burned into her lungs, flooding her mind with memories and scorching,
erotic images.

Jett Riley, her boss, her
bane.

Her mate.

She should hate him.

But she couldn't. So she did
the next best thing she could. She ignored him.

Or rather, she pretended to
herself that she was ignoring him.

Truth was, she couldn't ignore
him, no matter how hard she tried. She was acutely, achingly aware
of him. His scent, his presence, his smile. Everything about him
awakened her senses and her crazed libido. He was devilishly,
devastatingly handsome, with his intense gray-green eyes and sinfully
muscled body. His sandy hair was surprisingly soft under her
fingers, and the memory of his hard, tanned body against hers made
her shiver and clench her muscles.

He was hot, and cold. Hungry,
and hurtful.

He was hers. Not!

He was downright infuriating!

After that night in his
office, she had made it a point to avoid him. She kept her contact
and conversations with him to a minimum. She simply threw herself
into her investigation work. She worked long hours with Scott and
met up frequently with Levi and Jeanette to compare notes. She was
determined to crack the case. But they just couldn't seem to catch a
break.

They had interviewed so many
humans and paranormals, witnesses, neighbors, friends and families of
the slain Enforcers, but nobody could tell them anything useful.
There was a lot of information, but nothing that pointed them to the
identity of the killers.

Work kept her busy and
occupied. For a few nights, she had actually managed to keep Jett
out of her mind, out of her thoughts.

She was determined to forget
him.

Fake it till you make it.

Just keep pretending that he
didn't affect her so. Keeping acting like she didn't feel anything
for him, until she could really stop feeling and caring.

She could do it.

Almost.

Why the hell did he have to
follow her home tonight? She had been doing so well, pretending that
he didn't exist and that they had never had that one scorching,
unforgettable night together. He had ruined everything. The moment
she walked out of the PAC Headquarters, she had gasped at the sound
of his unmistakable footfall and the scent of his worry and hunger
for her. It had taken every ounce of willpower for her to keep
walking and not turn around.

She had come so far. She had
made it home. She would not weaken now.

Bryn pushed away from the
door, directing her feet stoically to the kitchen when what she
really wanted to do was scuttle to the window and peek out at him.
No, she would not risk her heart and her sanity. If she looked out
the window and saw him standing there, she would unlock the door and
bolt across the street to him.

He was a Bryn magnet.
Resistance was futile, but she would fight the pull. Put off the
heartbreak for as long as possible.

Bryn flicked on the kitchen
light and saw a note on the table. “Blood pie in the fridge.”

“
Oh, Nana,” Bryn
sighed and smiled as she opened the fridge door. She pulled out a
nice, round blood pie and put it carefully into the microwave oven.
Nana had baked it specially for her this afternoon.

As she dug into the steaming
pie, Bryn glanced at the curtains fluttering in front of the small
kitchen window. She swallowed her pie and frowned. Was Jett still
standing beside the tree, watching her house?

Even from this distance, she
could see his tall, powerful figure leaning against the tree and see
the light reflected in his intelligent, sharp eyes. With a huff, she
drew the curtains and faced away from the window. No looking, no
peeking.

He was free to stand outside
her house. He could stand anywhere he wanted. He was a free man—who
wasn't mated to her. He was none of her business.

Bryn washed up the plate and
checked all the locks before snapping off the lights. She would go
to bed and not dream of Jett.

As she made her way to her
room, she passed her grandmother's room and saw that the door was
ajar. The flickering light from the television illuminated her
grandmother's sleeping form. Nana had fallen asleep in her chair,
and left the television on again.

Bryn tiptoed into the room and
switched off the TV. She pulled the woolen shawl over her
grandmother's bony shoulders and lightly kissed the top of her head.

Nana stirred and blinked
sleepily at her. “Bryn, you're home.” She gave her
granddaughter a big smile. “Did you...”

“
Yes, Nana, your blood
pie has been put to bed.” Bryn patted her stomach and smacked
her lips. “It was delicious! Mmm-mmmm!”

Nana grinned with delight.
“Good, good.” She put a wizened hand on Bryn's cheek.
“You're a good girl. The best granddaughter.”

Bryn knelt beside her
grandmother. “No,” she whispered, blinking back sudden
tears. “I'm not. I...I made you worry, Nana. I broke your
heart, and I never said sorry...”

“
Shhh, shhhh.”
Nana hushed her, and pulled Bryn into her arms. “You've done
so well. I'm proud of you, Bryn. So very proud.”

Bryn let a small sob bubble up
from her chest. “I'm sorry, Nana...”

“
Bryn, what...”

“
No, I was stupid, Nana.
I was so stupid and selfish. I'm sorry,” she said,
straightening up to look straight into her grandmother's eyes. It
was time to let it out, let it go. She had to acknowledge her
mistake, own it, live with it. And make up for it.

Nana touched her cheek.
“Bryn...”

“
No, Nana. I never
apologized for what I did. What I did was the most cowardly, selfish
thing anyone could do. A boy left me. He got me pregnant and left
me. So what did I do?” She laughed harshly, angrily at
herself. “I slit my wrists. I killed my baby and I tried to
kill myself, right here, in my home, in my bedroom. I didn't think
of you. I thought of no one but myself. I thought I could punish
him by dying, punish him for leaving me. But the only one I hurt was
you. He was a cad, a scumbag. He wouldn't have cared if I died.
But you...” Bryn swallowed hard. “I hurt you so much,
Nana. I know that. Please forgive me, Nana. If I'd died...”