“Yes.”
Satisfaction, exhilaration, and triumph rushed through him. “I need your mouth, Shay,” he growled. “Open for me.” His tongue shot inside to find hers, groaning at her taste. It wasn’t a kiss. It was an explosion. An explosion of need, of heat, of desperation.
Needing to go deeper, Nick knotted a hand in her curls and angled her head how he wanted it. When she tried taking control of the kiss, he growled into her mouth and tightened his hold on her hair. She softened slightly, and he growled again—this time in approval. He slid his other hand down to her ass and cupped it possessively. It was the hottest ass, and it was his. He rocked her hips against his, making them both groan. At the sound of a heavy knock on the front door, they broke apart.
“Nick, you need to get out here,” called Derren.
“What is it?” Nick gritted out.
“Trust me, you need to get out here.”
Squeezing his eyes closed as he dug deep for self-restraint, Nick took a long breath. “I’ll be right there.” Opening his eyes again, he nearly groaned aloud at the heated expression on Shaya’s face. “We need to postpone this for now, baby. But later, when I’ve finally got you in bed, nothing will stop me from getting inside you.” It was as much a warning as it was a promise. Shaya’s nod of acceptance settled something deep inside him. “But until then…” He bit her. Bit down hard in the crook of her neck, wanting and needing to mark her in some way, just as he’d been aching to since first laying eyes on her. She moaned and held his head close. He took the hint and sucked hard, ensuring it was a definitive mark that no one could miss.
Keeping Shaya behind him, Nick opened the door. Whatever he’d been expecting to find outside, it hadn’t been the rebels.
“We thought you might want to know,” began one of them, “someone vandalized the salon where your mate works last night.”
CHAPTER TEN
Before Nick’s car had fully come to a stop, Shaya was attempting to jump out of the passenger seat. She might have been successful if Nick’s arm hadn’t clamped around her waist.
“Wait.” He didn’t release her until she nodded.
Shaya thought it was strange how he could sound so unyielding yet so gentle at the same time. Taking a proper look outside, her mouth fell open in horror as she saw the front windows of the salon almost completely shattered and the door hanging from its hinge. Pieces of broken glass littered the sidewalk like glistening diamonds, and the salon’s sign had been splashed with black paint. “Oh my God.” Her wolf whined, anxious and angry.
Once Nick had opened the passenger door, Shaya was out of the vehicle and dashing toward the salon only to, once again, be hampered by an arm around her.
“It’s okay, baby, Kent’s not inside. He’s over there.”
Kent caught sight of her at the same time as she spotted him, and then they were hugging each other hard. “Thank God you’re okay,” said Shaya. Her words came out in a rush. “When I heard what happened I started panicking that maybe you’d been hurt and then you weren’t answering your cell and my mind was just running away with me and I was imagining you dead, covered in blood and—”
Kent poked her shoulder. “For God’s sake, woman, breathe. I’m fine, really. The damage was done last night. I sent Paisley home a few minutes ago. She was white as a sheet.”
Draping a supportive, comforting arm around Shaya, Nick gave Kent a half smile. “What about you?” At that moment, Derren appeared at their side.
“I don’t think there are words to describe what I’m feeling right now.”
“How much damage is there?” asked Nick.
“Damage is a mild word for this,” said Shaya. “It looks like a tsunami hit it.” Nick’s hand slid around her throat, and his thumb massaged her nape soothingly. His presence and his touch anchored her when she wouldn’t have believed anything could at such a time.
“Shaya’s right, this is beyond damage or vandalism. This is…” Derren broke off, searching for an explanation that seemed to be just out of his reach. But it wasn’t out of Nick’s reach.
“Personal,” finished Nick. “It seems personal.”
“How bad is it?” Shaya asked Kent.
Kent puffed out a long breath. “Bad. Bottles of shampoo and conditioner have been poured everywhere. The mirrors have all been smashed. The leather chairs have been slashed with scissors. To add to that, broken mugs and plates are scattered all over the kitchenette, and the contents of the fridge have been thrown around. And then there’s the office—it looks like a hurricane hit it. Papers and magazines and notebooks and files are all over the places. The computer hard drive, monitor, and keyboard have been completely wrecked. What’s baffling the police is that the safe hasn’t been touched and neither has the till. But I have a pretty good idea why that is.” Noticing Nick’s confusion, Kent added, “For the same reason that the vandals entered through the back door. That’s right: The damage to the front door wasn’t done out of a necessity to get inside—they basically did it for sport, along with the rest. The reason for that is the extremists are involved. I recognized a few of the scents.”
“The extremists?” echoed Shaya.
Kent’s voice was gravelly with emotion. “All I can think is they discovered I’m a half-shifter.”
Before Kent had even revealed the extremists’ involvement, Nick had known they were responsible, because he could clearly see Logan among the gathering humans. His expression was smug and daring. Little bastard. Vandalizing Nick’s mate’s—or girlfriend, as Logan believed—place of work definitely counted as personal and was definitely one very good way to rile him.
As both Shaya and Kent tracked Nick’s hard gaze, they each snarled at Logan as the same realization dawned on them.
“He’s got balls, showing up here after what he’s done,” hissed Kent, moving toward him. Derren’s hand on Kent’s arm stopped him.
“Not balls,” said Derren. “He’s hoping Nick will react.” Derren briefly explained the situation. Nick had expected Kent to be pissed with him, to blame him to some degree for bringing this trouble to his salon. But Kent gave Nick a look of sympathy.
“I can’t imagine what you must have gone through in that place. A lot of shifters don’t last in juvie.”
“You’re not going to blame me for what happened to your business?”
Kent frowned. “Why would I do that? He did what he did because he’s a bastard, not because of you. Besides, I was expecting it to happen sooner or later—though I thought it would be because they discovered I’m a half-shifter.”
As Nick’s eyes again locked on Logan, Shaya could almost feel his fury. Enraged though she was, she knew better than to confront Logan, particularly right now in front of all these people and a news reporter—oh yeah, any crime that might possibly be related to shifters counted as news. “Nick, don’t give him what he wants.” He didn’t respond. “Look at me.” Finally, he did. “Don’t play into his hands.”
“Right now, I need to make some calls,” announced Kent. “I need to get some people out here to deal with this mess.” He patted Shaya’s hand. “You need to go home.” When Shaya opened her mouth to object, he raised a hand. “There’s nothing you can do here. All you’ll be doing by sticking around is upsetting yourself. Now go. You’d say the same thing to me if it was the other way around.”
Sighing in defeat, she nodded and gave Kent another hug. Then Nick was leading her back to his car, his eyes again on Logan. “Nick, don’t play into his hands,” she repeated.