“Come on.” He opened the door, sliding smoothly from the seat and walking around the vehicle.
Faith followed suit, tucking her hands in the light leather jacket, feeling the press of heat on her skin soaking into her body. Her womb fluttered, her flesh felt sensitized, her br**sts swelling beneath the light cotton of her shirt. The reaction was similar to the drugs they had pumped her full of at the Labs. The drugs that raged through her body and lost Jacob to her forever.
She entered the house, staring around at the wide foyer, the curving staircase and large open rooms. The interior was cooler than the air outside, but not much. She shed her jacket as they entered, holding it in front of her uncomfortably as she followed Jacob through the long hallway, then into a spacious, well-lit kitchen.
“Beer?” He pulled two from the modern refrigerator and set it on the counter for her.
Faith picked up the cold can, popped the lid and drank from it gratefully. The beer at the bar had been tepid and bitter. This went down smooth and cool, but did little to stem the heat she felt between her legs.
Holding the beer carefully with one hand, she reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out the sealed envelope Wolfe had given her months before. It was wrinkled, dusty, but still in fairly good shape. She tossed it on the table and looked at him expectantly as he watched her from the other side of the sink.
“In a hurry?” He arched a brow, his expression mocking.
“I do have a life to return to,” she reminded him blandly.
“Not to mention your vibrators,” he growled, clearly put out with the thought of her toys.
“Yeah, don’t mention my BOBs. I already miss them.”
“Bobs?” he asked, frowning, his brows lowering warningly.
“Battery Operated Boyfriends.” She smiled tightly. “BOBs.”
He grunted. Moving away from the sink, he stalked to the kitchen table as he cast her a brooding look. He pulled out a chair and waved towards it before moving to the other end to take a seat himself. Faith took the offered chair then took another long drink from the beer. The liquid was cool, but more than that, its potency seemed to ease the tight knot of nerves in her chest.
Jacob had always made her nervous. Since she was young, she had looked up to him, idolized him, and then coveted his touch. She had gotten more than she had bargained for in that.
As he tore the envelope open and began reading the letter, Faith finished her beer then laid her head on the table. She was tired. The last two months had left her with little time to sleep as she searched for Jacob. Not that she had slept much before that. And damned if that fight hadn’t worn her out. Her body ached all over. Unfortunately all the aches weren’t due from the fight.
* * * * *
Jacob looked over at Faith as he read the last page of the letter. He sighed tiredly. He had wondered why Wolfe hadn’t just used the damned cell phone to contact him. Now he knew why. Faith. Delicate and as fragile looking as ever.
She had filled out in the past years, her br**sts and h*ps were fuller, her legs more defined and sexy as hell. But she wasn’t the girl he had known six years before. The girl he had known would have balked at six goons attempting to rape her. She would not have waded into a fight so eagerly. She was a negotiator, and a damned good one, not a killer.
As Pack Liaison, Faith had coordinated the known Packs, working between the Pack leaders and aiding in bringing peace among them rather than open warfare in some cases, as many of the Packs were eager for bloodshed rather than peace. She was also a courier between Council informants and Wolfe. But Faith wasn’t a fighter. Until now.
He wiped his hands over his face with an irritated motion. Damn life, it tried to kick his ass every chance it got, and this time it could be the final blow. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He glanced back at the papers, reading over them once again.
Information I’ve gathered indicates Faith is in heat, a prelude to the violent sexual frenzy that begins genetic altering in the ovaries. You marked her and as, apparently, she can bear no other touch, it’s up to you to breed her. I’m sick of paying the bills on her damned vibrators. Take care of it.
I know from the time I’ve spent with Hope now, that the mark you left on Faith is the same as the one I left on Hope. She’s your mate, bound to you and to your body. We aren’t certain how it works yet, or what the mating frenzy means in terms of our Breed, but it’s a serious enough condition to be a cause for alarm. Expect a measure of anger, fury. Her mood swings will become wild, and I have no doubt she’s as angry over your desertion as Hope was and still is, over mine.
The mark meant much more than we thought it did, six years before. The affects of it are immediate, and remnants of it never entirely leave the system. I’m still gathering information, but in Faith’s case, the symptoms appear stronger than they were in Hope’s. Faith is becoming impulsive, temperamental and antagonist. This worries me daily, as it seems to grow worse daily.
Caffeine and alcohol appear to make these effects worse, and over stimulate the body. Faith’s intake of both is exceedingly high recently. They will make the arousal sharper, the degree of it higher. Trust me, Jacob, you want to limit this as much as possible unless your stamina is equal to that of a rabbit.
It was my intention to steer clear of your relationship with Faith, as you know. I’m more than aware that you feel the mating that occurred in the labs was too close to rape. I’ve never agreed, but the time to address it never seemed to present itself. I am now forced, as Pack Leader, to address it anyway. Aiden and I are in agreement on this. It is time to make your peace with that night, and with Faith, before she comes to serious harm. I expect a report from you soon.
The letter was much longer, the explanations more in-depth than he was comfortable with, but Jacob clearly understood why his Pack Leader had sent Faith on a fool’s mission. Or was it a mission to find a fool? He shook his head in mockery. Could he have been wrong? Was she stronger than she appeared? Able to withstand not just his lifestyle, but also his lusts?
Not the way she looked right now, sleeping like a baby, her head pillowed on her jacket. Part of Wolfe’s letter was filled with his worry for her. Her nocturnal habits and lack of sleep. The edge of weariness that lay on her like a cloak, dulling her black eyes, giving her creamy skin a pale appearance. But she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. His dick reminded him forcefully just how much a woman she was.