The hunger eating at him was still controllable. The need driving him could still be buried in another woman. The heated lust could still be pumped from his body, and though satiation was never complete, it was satisfying.
He was still his own man.
For the moment.
Once he knew Haley was safe, once he made her life his primary objective, he would no longer be able to claim that singular independence. And he knew it.
He raced into town, slowing the cycle and easing it around traffic, bending over the padded chest rest and gearing down as he glimpsed the flames that blazed around the library.
And he felt the roar that discharged from his chest at the sight of the twisted, ruined, blazing hulk of Haley's truck. A roar of bloodlust and animalistic rage.
Someone was going to pay. Dear God, if she was in that truck, if she was gone forever, then blood would flow.
Chapter 2
Haley shuddered in the blanket Zane Taggart had wrapped around her. The sheriff was kneeling in front of her as she sat sideways in his cruiser, her feet on the ground, the heat from the vents blasting over her upper body. Still, she shuddered from the cold and the fear.
Zane was one of those men in Buffalo Gap Haley had known almost since the cradle. He was a few years older than she, so he had always been a little protective of her. Zane was protective of all women though. He wasn't in uniform, so he must have been off duty when the explosion happened. He was dressed in jeans, a dark flannel shirt, and a heavy quilted overshirt.
He was staring at her silently as she gripped the cup of hot coffee he had pressed into her hands seconds ago, his expression concerned.
"You should let the paramedics look at you, Haley." He reached out and brushed her hair gently off her forehead.
"I'm fine." A sob hitched her breath, shuddered through her body. "Patricia's not okay, Zane." More tears leaked from her eyes.
She couldn't seem to hold them back. Patricia was gone, and it was all her fault. Because she had let Patricia borrow her truck, had given her the keys because it was going to snow.
Lazy fluffy flakes were already drifting through the air, but they no longer held the magical appeal they had only a few hours ago.
Flames still burned inside the library. The fire blazing around the building and the vehicles that had caught fire were more important than the books inside a building that would contain its own flames.
"No, Patricia's not okay, Haley." Zane sighed and stared through the windshield before turning back to her. "You have to tell me what happened, honey."
"I don't know." She stared back at Zane in shock. "It was going to snow. You know how pitiful Patricia's car is in the snow." Another sob tore free. How pitiful it had been. The explosion had destroyed several other vehicles as well, Patricia's being one of them.
She lowered her head, fighting the sobs that shook her shoulders as Zane patted her knee.
"Come on, Haley." He lifted her chin until he was staring back at her. "You gave Patricia your keys, right?"
She nodded unsteadily. "So she could get to town after the snow. She hates being snowed in."
"Yes, she hates that." Zane nodded. "Go on."
"That's all," she whispered. "She went out to leave. I turned the television back on. I wanted to see the snow."
Her lips trembled. "They were showing the snow in other states, and I wanted to see it. And then . . ." She blinked and shook her head.
She had to stop crying. She had to remember what Jonas Wyatt and Noble had told her. She couldn't tell anyone what had happened at Sanctuary until the hearing. But she knew, oh God, she knew Patricia had died because of it. Somehow, some way, the Breeds'
enemies knew what she had seen and overheard. She knew it. She could feel it crawling over her skin, digging its way inside her brain.
"Haley." Zane stared up at her, his blue eyes sharp, concerned, but knowing. "You have to tell me what's going on here, honey. Someone blew up your truck.
That wasn't an accident. You and I both know it wasn't an accident. Now, you have to tell me why."
She shook her head. She couldn't lie to Zane. She was a horrible liar, and she knew it. And she couldn't look him in the eye when he was staring at her like that. Determined and worried, compassion and pain glittering in his eyes.
She looked at her truck, and her stomach ached with the sobs and the fear she was holding in. Her chest felt constricted, tight, and filled with pain.
There was nothing left of Patricia. She was gone, while the snow drifted through the air, and the flames billowed around them.
Firefighters were working to put out the blazes, several twisted hunks of vehicles were nothing but charred skeletal remains of what they had been.
"We found a breed, Haley," Zane told her then.
Her head jerked around in terror. Haley could feel the rest of the blood leeching from her body, agony tearing through her.
"No." Sometimes Noble came in late. Returned books, helped her lock up.
"He was shot behind the library. Someone killed him. Now tell me what the hell is going on, or I'm taking you in for your own protection."
"Who?" The word wheezed out of her as her stomach churned sickeningly. She was rocking, slowly, back and forth, and didn't notice as the coffee cup slipped from her grip and crashed to the ground.
She was going to throw up.
"Who was the breed?" She nearly pushed Zane back as she forced herself to her feet. The quilt dropped behind her. "Where is he?"
She was shaking so hard she had to grip the open door as Zane grabbed her shoulder.
"Haley, dammit, tell me what the hell is going on."
"Was it Noble?" she screamed back at him. "Tell me, damn you. Who was the breed?"
She tried to tear away from him, the sickening fear of Noble, gone, dead. No, it couldn't be Noble.
But it had been time for Noble. It had been. She had been waiting for him.
She stared around and jerked away from Zane.
"Where is he?" She sobbed again, stumbling around the door and gripping the side of the car as she tried to force her legs to move.
He had said behind the library. Dead behind the library. She wasn't crying now. The fear and the pain was going too deep for tears. If Noble was gone, she couldn't bear it. Not Patricia and Noble. It couldn't happen. Not like this. Not because of her.
As she forced herself around the front of the vehicle, she heard a sound so wild, so animalistic, her head jerked up. It was Noble. She knew it was. She couldn't accept anything else.
"Noble!" She screamed his name and heard the sound again.
It rocked the night. Like the wild lions that patrolled the borders of Sanctuary. If the night was quiet, sometimes, you could hear them. And now, it sounded as though one had stepped into the city itself.
Her head jerked around, staring into the parking lot, watching as the flames flickered around it. And she saw him. All that wild black hair blowing back from his savage face. His lips were pulled back into a snarl as he pushed a police officer attempting to hold him back to the side.
Black-leather pants and heavy motorcycle boots. A leather jacket that he was unzipping as his gaze caught hers. He moved like the jaguar he was bred from, a hard, graceful shift of muscle, a ripple of danger.
"Noble." His name tore from her lips again as he snarled. The sight of it, the sound of it, should have been frightening. The flash of his canines, the hard edge to his black eyes, should have frightened her as much as it did the officers and bystanders.
She tried to make her legs move. Tried to run to him but they weren't functioning as they should. She stumbled again and heard his throttled growl a second before he jerked her into his arms.
Warmth covered her. She was only barely aware of his jacket going around her shoulders, because he was holding her, jerking her against his chest and swinging her off her feet.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against him to block out the sounds, the sight, and the smell of the fire.
He smelled like the night. Like winter. Like the snow that was drifting around them. There was no death around him. There was nothing of the nightmare and chaos around her.
For the first time since the night had turned into hell, Haley finally felt safe.
"Chavin, be advised of reinforcements landing," the comm link crackled with the information as Noble buried his face in Haley's hair and held on to her. His arms tightened around her as he let himself rest against the hood of the sheriff's cruiser and let himself soak up the knowledge that she was alive.
As he held her, he was aware of the breed heli-jet landing on the other side of the parking lot, and of the sheriff moving closer to them.
His head jerked up as Sheriff Taggart pulled the edge of Noble's jacket over her shoulder. He flashed a feral snarl at him, the thought of the man touching her finally sending him past the limits of what little control he felt he possessed.
Taggart lifted his hands, his eyebrows arching.
"She was afraid the dead breed behind the library was you," the sheriff told him, his blue eyes knowing as he watched Noble.
Noble tensed and let go of Haley just enough to activate his communicator.
"Jonas?"
"I have you. We're on scene."
"There's a breed behind the library, apparently dead." Silence filled the line for long seconds. "Fuck.
We had Jason covering her."
Jason was young, but fully trained. He wasn't inexperienced.
"I want her out of the open. I'm bringing her to the heli."
"Negative. We have vehicles coming in and a civilian in the heli. Transfer her to one of the secured SUVs."
Noble grimaced. No doubt, the first Leo was in the helijet, the breed who only a few knew was a breed, and an interfering bastard at the moment, had decided to check things out himself.
That meant there was no way to transfer Haley to Sanctuary. Not and preserve the secrecy of Leo's identity from her.
He listened through the link as Jonas sent
Mordecai Savant and Mercury Warrant to check the body and prepare it for transfer.