Hunters Declan and Tori

"Tori," he said quietly. "It's me…it's Declan. You're safe."

Would she remember him? Would she remember herself?

For a long moment, blue eyes stared into his and then she shuddered. Lashes swept down, shielding her eyes. "Declan." Her fingers curled, clutched at his shirt for a brief second before she fell limply back on the couch. "Declan…I found you. I found you, didn't I?"

"Yes…yes, you did."

She was weak, very weak.

"I found you." Her lids fluttered closed, only to fly back open as she stared up at him, her mouth all but bloodless, terror turning her eyes nearly black. "He…bit me. He bit--"

Her eyes rolled back and her head started to jerk, her body convulsing.

"Bugger," he muttered, rolling her onto her side, uncertain what else to do. Well, what he wanted to do was panic, but that didn't seem to be the answer. What was this?

The convulsions lasted for long, tense moments and then blood started to trickle from her mouth. A moment later, he recognized a telltale bulge from behind her lips. Her mouth was open and he could see it as it happened, as her fangs began to emerge.

Her heart rate started to kick up, erratic and broken sounding. Her skin seemed to burn.

She was dying, starving to death.

"This isn't right," he muttered, fear turning his heart into a stone.

She had been turned a good week, if Declan had figured right, and her fangs were just now coming? That's what he was seeing--he'd seen it enough times to know, too.

If her fangs were just now emerging, she hadn't fed. No wonder she was starving.

He wondered if she knew how to feed.

Her eyes closed and her head went limp, rolling toward him. He hissed and fell back. Her fangs had cut through. Pearly sharp canines on top and bottom, canines that she would learn to retract somewhat and hide.

If she lived long enough. She was sliding into an exhausted sleep, and at the rate she was going, if she didn't feed soon, it would get worse. Of course, she was probably going to snap at some point along the way and try to feed, but she was so weak now, she might not have the strength to feed from an angry poodle.

Declan sighed, his head falling forward. Long, shaggy, blond hair fell into his eyes as he tried to convince himself he was debating what the proper course of action was to be. But he was just trying to delay the inevitable.

He had been dying for a taste of her for months.

And now she was going to get a taste of him.

He grimaced wryly as he realized he was about to become a vamp's first meal. Lifting his wrist to his mouth, he used his own fairly sharp canines to rip his flesh before he held the bleeding wound to her mouth.

Tori was mostly unconscious and for a moment, she did nothing but lay there as his blood flowed into her mouth, down her throat. Then she gagged, choked. Swallowed. It happened again, and again. Long seconds passed before she did little else than gag and sputter and then Declan felt the sharp pain of her incisors cutting into his skin, felt her hands come up to hold his wrist greedily against her mouth. Her tongue lashed out, caressing his flesh. Her mouth felt like silk, hot wet silk, as she fed.

He knew the minute the monster inside her started to emerge. It called to the one inside of him, the animal that was part of him. His skin grew tight and itchy, his jaws started to ache.

If he'd have allowed it, in moments, the skin along his spine would have started to ripple, then pulse. Then his hair would have begun to thicken, and after that, the bones would have started to lengthen and shift before his change.

Declan forced himself to breathe slowly, steadily, forcing his body and mind into a light state of meditation as the ache spread to his shoulders, down his back.

Breathing slowly and evenly, he focused on Tori's pale, still face.

Can't change…

You have the control.

Wouldn't change.

You have the power.

And he did. Declan was power, a primal, powerful force that walked around in human skin.

Well, human skin most of the time.

Slowly, the urge and the animal inside him faded and he opened eyes that gleamed only slightly in the dim room, to stare into Tori's lovely alabaster face, once more alive and mobile.

Well, maybe alive wasn't such a good word. And her lovely, sapphire blue eyes were empty still, full of nothing but monster and hunger and greed.

"Let go now, Tori," he said softly, tapping her cheek with his free hand.

A low, sexy growl emerged from her throat. And her fangs slid a little deeper into his flesh. He blinked once, slowly, at that tiny, exquisite little pain.

"Let. Go." She'd drain him dry, if he let her. The bastard who did this had known damn good and well what he had done.

A new vampire was like a loaded gun--the potential for harm was huge. If she learned control, there was little chance for harm. But if she wasn't trained…she could be deadly.

Of course, a shifter had a better chance than the average human. With a wrench, he tore his wrist from her and got to his feet quickly, moving a pace or two away, out of reach of her seeking hands, and grabbed a discarded shirt. Tearing a strip of fabric from it, he tied a makeshift bandage around his wrist and watched her. She still reached for him, and started to slither in his direction.

"Tori."

Her eyes were glowing brightly; swirling pools of lust and hunger and need. He felt his own hunger rising, felt his cock hardening, felt the urge to mate, wildly, mindlessly, with her. Mate while she fed from him, and he fed off of her, until they simply couldn't do it anymore. Kinda made the idea of fucking to death sound rather appealing.

"Tori McAdams."

Those slumberous, heavy lidded eyes blinked and her head cocked.

"Tori!"

Her lids fluttered shut, then she shot to her feet, pressed her hands to her temples and started to scream.

Oh, God. Baby, what did he do? Declan thought helplessly, his feet moving in her direction, even though he knew it wasn't really safe. Not yet. Then the screaming stopped.

"What did he do to me?" she rasped out, touching her fingers to her mouth and gathering the drying blood. Staring at the red stain on her fingers, she keened, a low helpless sound.

"I'm sorry, Tori," Declan whispered.

"Sorry?"

"Sorry?"

"What the hell has happened to me?" she shouted, her hands clenched into tight fists.

"You've been bitten," he said softly.

Did she remember?

By the growing horror and disbelief in her eyes, most likely yes, she did remember.

"That man…" her voice trailed off and she swallowed, a loud audible sound in the silence of the room. "He was strong. Too strong. And his…he had…his eyes--" Her voice trailed off and she fell silent for long seconds. "His eyes glowed. Almost red. He was going to hurt me. And, at first, I wanted it. I wanted it." Her voice fell to a low, awful rasp as she repeated, "I wanted it."

So he had lulled her. A master, then.

This one had beguiled her.

"Tori, you did nothing wrong. He made you want it, hypnotism, if you will."

"He did something to my mind," she whispered, in a soft, almost singsong voice. "Made me afraid. Then he made me want it. Want whatever he wanted to do. And then I shot him."

"Shot him?" This wasn't something he had expected to hear.

"I shot him and I ran and he found me. He found me and bit me and beat me and made me drink his blood." She said each word slowly, as if it hurt, as if the words were pulled from her throat like glass.

"I am sorry, Tori. So very sorry," he whispered. She had shot a vamp? One who had beguiled her? Ran away and hid?

She whirled on him and shouted, "I just attacked you and you're telling me you're sorry?"

"You didn't attack me. I fed you--there's a difference. And yes. I'm sorry. Sorry this happened. Sorry it happened to you," he said quietly, deciding she was herself. Or as close to herself as she was likely to get for quite some time. So he moved a little closer. "Do you know what has happened?" It was no surprise, of course, that the vamp had found her after she ran. Vamps could track by scent almost as well as a wolf could./p>

But it was surprising that she had shot it. After it had beguiled her. Or tried to.

She hugged her arms tightly around her body, staring into the distance with blind eyes. "This isn't possible," she whispered. "Not possible. I'm going crazy."

"No." Declan started to reach for her and then he let his hand fall. "You aren't going crazy."

"What are you? Are you…like me?"

"I'm a wolf," he said quietly.

She laughed, a shrill painful laugh. "A wolf? The cop I've been lusting after for months is a wolf? Talk about a wolf in sheep's clothing." She whirled away and started pacing the room.

"A wolf," she continued to mutter under her breath. "Drinking blood. I'm out of my fucking mind."

Declan sighed. With quick, economical motions, he shed his clothes and waited until she caught a glimpse. And then a longer look, until finally she turned and stared at him, her eyes wide, shocked, and heated. Her pink tongue darted out to lick her lips. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer as he fell to his knees and cried out as the heat raced along his skin, followed by a flow of fur. It hurt. It always hurt at first. But it was a delicious pain, much like her fangs sinking into his flesh. His face lengthened as a muzzle grew and his longish blond hair thickened and became denser. The flow of fur raced down over his body like a waterfall as his muscles enlarged and his body changed and shifted. The rippling fur obscured much of the change from sight as his arms stretched and lengthened. His chest widened and deepened as a fine pelt of fur covered it, thinning down to a silky pelt over his belly and groin where his cock thrust out--hard and thick and full--perfectly formed.

His hips were still lean and muscled, covered with that same silky fur that started to thicken as it flowed down his thighs, thighs that were heavy with muscle. Two sickening thuds filled the room as the bones in his legs reformed beneath the fur as it raced on down to his feet, covering them--larger, longer and broader, made better to run and jump and lunge.

It only took seconds, under a minute, and he was free. The animal inside him rejoiced while the human continued to watch his companion warily. If it had been another vamp, even one of the few he called friends, he never would have shifted in front of them. It left him helpless for a few brief seconds, and he couldn't ever let down his guard.

But this was Tori.

When he finally rose, his bulky body was just a few inches taller than it had been, but larger, more powerful, more muscled. His gait was slightly awkward. Standing on his hind legs in this form tested his balance a bit. But he could walk upright.

He cocked his head, staring at Tori.

"Holy shit. You meant a fucking werewolf."

"Not exactly were," he growled, forcing the words over his tongue. It felt so fucking awkward to talk in this form. "Wolf. Moon means nothing."

Her eyes trailed lower and lower, pausing on his hard cock. Declan growled deep in his chest. He couldn't help it. Just her scent made him hard, and the change always had a vaguely sexual feel to it.

But when she took a step in his direction, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips again, he moved back. "Don't," he grunted, shaking his maned head.

"Why not?"

He closed his eyes, banished the creeping power. Changing back could be exhausting, but it was painless. Within a few heartbeats of time, he was sitting crossed legged on the floor, naked. And when he looked back at her, it was from human eyes. From human flesh. "It's not you who wants this," he said, staring at her while she stared at his straining penis. He closed one fist over his cock, dragging it up the thick, ruddy length slowly, his lids drooping as the rounded head was swallowed by the grip of his hand. A long, raspy sigh escaped him as he pumped his cock, staring at her for a long moment before his hand fell away. Declan rose slowly, shaking his head. "The vampirism has put something new inside you--a hunger you can't control yet--that is what wants this. Not you."

Dragging her eyes from his erection, she stared at him, her own eyes glowing softly, renewed vitality and life and health glowing in her face. And lust.
"You are wrong," she said softly.

"No. You don't want this, not with me."

Reaching out, she closed one slim, cool hand over his cock and squeezed. He hissed, his head falling back. He was trying to be a gentleman here. She was confused, had been hurt and had had her life ripped away from her. He was too decent a guy to take advantage of her, even if he fantasized about it for a few brief seconds.

But she was making it hard.

In several ways.

"You're wrong. I've always wanted you," she whispered heatedly, dropping to her knees in front of him. Her tongue darted out and she licked him daintily before lifting her shadowed eyes to stare at him. "I always wanted you. And I wanted to live a long, healthy normal life, with a family, and a man to love me."

"That was taken away, it seems. But I can have you. Can't I?"

A rumbling growl erupted from his throat when her wet, pink lips closed over his cock, and took his length down her throat. One hand came up and fisted in her damp curls, holding her back when she would have swallowed him down a second time.

He felt her fangs nick him as he pulled away, jerked her to her feet and whirled, pinning her against the wall. He stared at her, gasping for breath while she smiled lazily at him.

"Always?" he repeated. "If you've wanted me, then why haven't you been with me? I've made myself clear on the matter, haven't I? I knew you were attracted, but you stayed so damn far away."

She shrugged lazily. "I had a rule about not getting involved with cops," she said, the shadows drifting back into her lovely blue eyes while she trailed her hands up and down his side. "I had a lot of rules, and look where they led me."

"So, what? You want to fuck me because life fucked you over?"

"No. Because life has fucked me over, I think maybe I'll actually start living the way I've always wanted, instead of the way I always thought I should," she replied. Leaning forward, she nipped at his lower lip before staring up at him. "And I have wanted you since the day we met."

"Oh, well, then," Declan said weakly as her hands closed over his ass and pulled him against her pelvis. Son of a bitch, he was no bloody saint.