Page 3 of Griffin Undone
Arik
Present day
The roads were rank with the scent of recent rain, exhaust, and unwashed human. I stalked through the darkened streets, holding back an ugly grin at the expressions on the faces of the few bums and far-gone club hoppers I encountered. Fear sparked in every gaze that witnessed my passage through the night, and those that could, fled. I didn’t need the stereotypical trappings of a Hollywood vampire or shifter—no long hair flowing like a curtain behind me, no leather duster flapping in the wind. Who the hell needed the theatrics anyway? I existed; that was all that was necessary to terrify humans.
They should be afraid, and not only of me. I wasn’t the only one on the hunt tonight.
My senses flared as I tracked the group of rogue shifters through the maze of sidewalks scattered with flashing neon lights and the occasional roar of sound when a bar door opened abruptly. Downtown Nashville swam with nightlife, but the middle-of-the-night cold kept most of the revelry inside rather than spilling onto the streets as it did in the summer. Hunting was harder then, but tonight, with a full group of Anigma moving through the heavily traveled area, most of the population wisely kept their sport indoors. They might not understand the sense of dread any more than they understood their fear of my shadow, but sense it they did, and that dread kept them out of my way. Safer for them, faster for me.
A yellow cab, the “available” light a beacon for customers, passed on the narrow street. A blast of exhaust clouded the air, fucking up my nose, and I coughed, irritated. The sound echoed between the buildings, part bird, part lion—all animal—startling a drunk on the crumbling steps jutting out from a nearby alley. The man jerked, his bottle of cheap liquor rattling as it hit the concrete. Wild eyes skimmed me before the drunk hurried farther into the yawning cavern between the two buildings.
I ignored the interruption and continued on, focused on following my prey. Maddox was close; I could feel it in my bones. He and his cadre of Anigma soldiers wouldn’t escape me tonight.
As I approached the next corner, I allowed my animal to rise until I felt him just beneath my skin. My griffin’s superior senses enabled me to scan the next several blocks, and despite the darkness of this less frequented section of downtown, I instantly honed in on the group of males dispersing at the entry of a local blues bar. The lit sign that proclaimed the place to be Lenny’s shone weakly on the half-dozen black-clad figures entering the building, while the rest of the Anigma team faded into the surrounding shadows. Those males would stay close, I knew from past experience. If I followed their team members inside, the rest would know.
Not what I wanted quite yet.
My back ached as I allowed my massive wings to emerge. Holding in a groan, I stretched the thick appendages through the slits in my shirt and jacket, shaking out the stiffness. A feral grin escaped as a yelp echoed in the darkness behind me—the drunk venturing forth from his alley.
That booze is some good stuff, isn’t it, old man?
A psychic push allowed the words to whisper from my mind to the drunk’s, low and mean, rough with the hunger of my animal. I channeled that hunger, the adrenaline of the hunt, into my muscles and, too fast for human eyes to see, lifted my wings. A single flap down, hard, and I shot myself skyward.
The roof of the building was a wasteland of vents, tar, and debris, the line of sight broken by the occasional shed-like structure. I settled quietly and tucked my wings away, then strode toward the far corner and the roof access to Lenny’s Bar. A flimsy lock protected the door, but a quick jerk and pull gave me access to a set of stairs disappearing into a dim upper floor. Even this far up, a blue-gray haze hung in the air—smoke.Fuck that anti-smoking law, right, people?
My griffin rumbled under my skin, hating the filth coating our nose, but nothing could deter the animal’s sight as I descended to the first floor. An empty hallway waited, with closed doors and a couple of dingy bathroom entrances at one end. I turned in the opposite direction, following the sparse circles of light thrown from the occasional wall sconce.
The hazy air of the main room matched the hallway. Lenny’s patrons weren’t interested in seeing anything but their drinks, obviously, but my animal scanned the crowded area easily, peering through my eyes. A long wooden bar stretched the length of the wall closest to me, the majority of the barstools occupied with huddled figures nursing their alcohol and, occasionally, conversation. Likewise, most of the tables and booths scattered from the bar to the empty dance floor were filled. Humans mingled, drank, touched, on a hunt of their own for something far less dangerous than deadly predators. I quartered the room with my gaze, searching, senses on alert for the smallest hint of my prey.
What I found wasn’t a hint; Maddox wasn’t hiding. The bastard sat right out in the open, at a table near the grand piano tucked into the farthest corner from where I stood. There was no mistaking that bulk—most shifters were big, especially werewolves, but Maddox had always gone above and beyond, even in his build. The disheveled head of brown hair stuck out in all directions, exactly as it always had, and when the male shifted in his seat, I finally caught a glimpse of that hated face. The face that had incited my nightmares for the past nine hundred years, since the night of my parents’ murders.
My griffin snarled, hatred and an almost uncontrollable anticipation mixing with the animal’s volatile nature until I had to fight not to step forward and confront my enemy right then. Maddox might be out in the open, but the Anigma soldiers he’d brought inside with him were carefully hidden. No stupid mistakes for Maddox; the Anigma general was too intelligent, too savvy.
So was I. I hunkered against the wall to watch and wait. And what I saw surprised me. After a few minutes I realized Maddox’s focus was fixed on a single spot in the room—he had something or someone particular in his sights. I followed the shifter’s amber-tinged gaze to the piano, to Maddox’s prey. Not a warrior or another shifter; no, this was prey of the soft, delicate, female variety.
Interesting.
She sat at a piano on the small stage tucked into one corner of the large room, the smoky curtain hanging in the air obscuring her from prying eyes—but not mine. I easily traced the rounded slope of her hips as she bent toward the instrument. The gentle sweep of her delicate spine led to a bare nape visible above her collar. Her neck was fragile, vulnerable. Easily broken. Tendrils of autumn-red curls fell down from a gold clasp to tease that naked skin, and the sudden urge to brush them aside, to bend my body around her small frame and bring my aching fangs to that tantalizing curve where throat met shoulder roared through me without warning. The vivid image of biting her very human throat while gripping that mouthwatering ass, forcing her still for a hard, deep male thrust almost had a groan escaping. I straightened, tension gathering in my gut, not to mention my dick.
Using my griffin’s enhanced smell, I sifted the air, singling out the woman’s scent: tendrils of vanilla and something distinctly feminine even my shifter senses couldn’t put a name to. Something distinctly her, the blend smoother than the finest alcohol I’d ever tasted. The scent made my mouth water.
A quiet chuff escaped—my griffin declaring his interest. Before I could think, my foot stepped out, my body pulled toward her as if she were a lodestone and I was a willing—
No.
Holy shit. I barely drew back before making a fatal mistake. Why—
My eyes narrowed on the woman.
The animal inside me roared at the denial of his need. I resisted the pull of his instincts, the screaming awareness, and forced my attention back to Maddox. The shifter seemed fixated, just as I had been. Or was he?
What the hell was going on here?
Don’t get me wrong; I was no fucking monk. Such a thing was an impossibility, in my opinion, with the drive my animal and I shared. But I wasn’t here, in this bar, looking for a hookup or to scratch an itch. Females were a convenience, not a need. As the general of the southeast quadrant of the Anigma army, Maddox would be the same. The way he watched this woman, however…
My brain spun out options as I stared at my enemy staring at the woman. If she belonged to Maddox, what better revenge than to take her? As a start, anyway. Not like it would be any hardship. My dick hardened in a rush at the mere thought of finding the source of that tempting scent somewhere on her body.
My animal took the interest as permission and moved us into the room. The red light of the emergency exit sign a few feet along the wall drew my attention, highlighting the perfect niche to watch the woman’s performance. I’d barely settled my shoulder against the wall before the woman’s head turned from the piano keys and her gaze slammed into mine.
