Free Rapture Untamed by Pamela Palmer

long way from that cavern. In all probability, all they’d stumbled upon was the work of a human serial killer. A problem for the humans to deal with, not the immortal cavalry.
    He padded through grassy yards, staying close to the bushes, where he could hide his true appearance as much as possible from prying eyes.
    Too bad he hadn’t been able to talk Olivia into joining him. He’d have enjoyed her company. The woman had claws, nice sharp little claws that dug into him in all the right places. As hard as she tried to hide her attraction to him, she failed. It flashed in her eyes and rose from her skin in a lush scent that stroked his loins until he turned hard and throbbing and ready.
    He loved sex, had loved sex since he first stumbled upon a pair of teenage humans rutting in the woods when he was fourteen. The female had seen him and smiled, watching him as she screamed her release. The next day, she’d come alone and indoctrinated him into the carnal world—a world forbidden young Therians. But he’d never been much for following rules.
    That was nearly three and a half centuries ago, hundreds of sexual partners ago, yet never could heremember feeling the blazing-hot attraction he felt for Olivia. If he’d thought she’d obsessed him before he’d tasted her skin and felt her explosive response to the heat of his hands, it was nothing compared to now. He could hardly think of anything beyond touching her, tasting her. Beyond the need to feel her shatter with release.
    Of course, he wanted to be inside her, too. That went without saying, except…that wasn’t everything. It wasn’t even half of it.
    Usually when he felt desire for a woman, it was all about sex. About finding his own release. Why then did the thought of feeling Olivia’s pleasure excite him almost more than the thought of finding his own?
    He wanted her beneath him, on top of him.
    Beside him.
    On some oddball level he didn’t understand, he wanted her company, her frosty gaze, her sharp heels and tongue. He loved trading barbs with her, loved watching her try to hide the attraction she felt for him.
    Damn, he just loved being with her.
    Which was completely fucked up. He was perfectly happy with his own company and always had been.
    The scent of dog had him detouring across the street. Not that he couldn’t hold his own against any creature, even as Mini Jag. But the less attention he drew to himself, the better, all the way around.
    With a conscious effort, he pulled his mind fromOlivia and concentrated on picking up the scent he searched for. A short while later, as he traipsed through a cemetery, that unique whiff of evil and decay hit him.
    Daemon.
    Found it , Red.
    He threw the thought out there before he bothered to find her with his mind.
    Red?
    Dammit, where the hell was she? Had she accidentally wandered out of range? Or had she just gotten tired of driving around with the windows down?
    Neither. If there was one thing he was sure of with that woman, it was that she didn’t do anything accidentally. No, if Olivia left the half-mile radius he’d requested she remain within, she’d done so deliberately and for a damn good reason.
    So, what the hell was it? Had she spied the Daemon and taken off after it without telling him? No. She was too good a soldier for that. So what was Little Red up to?
    A middle-aged human couple strolling through the cemetery ahead caught sight of him. The woman gasped.
    “Bryan, look at him! Isn’t he the strangest cat you’ve ever seen? Here kitty, kitty, kitty.”
    Damn humans. Jag ran before they could trap him. The trail of Daemon scent led him into the woods on the other side, growing stronger as he ran. Little bylittle, the scent became mixed with another. Blood. Human blood.
    Red , where are you? I’m on the trail of the Daemon, and he’s killing. Or killed.
    The trail ended suddenly in a blaze of scent that nearly fried the insides of his cat’s nose. His keen animal senses told him he was