by Dannika Dark
“The bar in the middle broke.”
“I’m not even going to ask how.” I sipped more coffee. “Dating anyone?”
When I winked at him, Crush laughed, and he had one of those great belly laughs that said everything about what he was thinking.
Tattoos draped across his arms, and I studied the artwork, looking for new ink. A skeleton rode a bike on his left bicep, flames shooting out the sides. Below that, a banner with the name Cookie on it waved across a dagger. On his right bicep, a fierce bulldog with Semper Fi written below it. I could only see part of the tattoo on his inside forearm, a skull with roses in the eyes.
Then I studied the wolf on the outside of his right forearm. “I guess the mystery is finally solved on where that came from.”
He looked at it. “Maybe I just like wolves.”
“Whatever.”
Crush folded his arms on the table and stared at the clothes. “I don’t know what I’m gonna tell everyone.”
“Maybe we should make it a surprise party. I can pop out of a cake. You still have parties here, right?”
“When they told me you were dead, I didn’t invite anyone over for a long time. My buddies got concerned I might start drinking again, but I never did. You got that? I never fell off the wagon.”
I would have understood if he had, but I nodded and let him continue.
“It took a couple of years for me to feel normal again. And I never did feel all the way back to my old self. You were gone, and that was a colossal fucking hole in my universe. Ten times bigger than the one your mother left behind. You’re a part of me, and it was like going through an amputation of my soul. My buddies pulled me out of that dark place by coming around and shooting the breeze even if I wanted to be left alone. They were persistent sons of bitches, but they never left my side. Eventually things went back to normal, except even now I always get the look.”
I set down the pastry. “What look?”
“The look someone gives you when they know you’ve lost everything and don’t know what to say.”
The room got real quiet, the only sound from an airplane flying overhead.
“You shouldn’t smoke cigars in your bedroom,” I said, lightening the mood. “You’ll set the house on fire.”
A smile touched his lips. “I only light those up on rare occasions. I think I might enjoy a stogie at the next barbecue.”
Crush didn’t smoke cigarettes, but he was known to enjoy a cigar now and again. It was one of his few vices in life.
“What special occasion deserves a cigar in bed? Does it have something to do with how the sofa got broke?”
He stood up, the chair legs scraping against the floor. “I used to think I missed your sass, now I’m having second thoughts.” Crush glanced at his watch. “I have to swing by the shop and make sure they’ve got everything under control.”
“Workaholic. I thought you said your boys had it covered?” I grinned.
Crush was a control freak when it came to his business. He was the kind of guy who would probably never retire.
“I’m not staying all day. I just need to let them know I’m not coming in, so they can take over my duties.” He rumpled my hair before turning toward the hall. “You need anything while I’m out?”
“Don’t worry about me. I think I might take a trip to the store and buy some shoes. My sneakers have bloodstains on them.”
Truthfully, I planned to go grocery shopping. Crush didn’t know how to shop for himself and eat properly. Never had. I wasn’t much of a cook, but the man looked like he hadn’t seen a vegetable in seven years, so the least I could do was stock up his cabinets with nutritious foods that weren’t covered in icing.
Crush returned from the bedroom while zipping up a light jacket. “This weather can’t seem to make up its mind.” He grabbed my head and kissed it. “Be back soon. Leave your number on the table in case I get home before you do.”
After he shut the door, I stared at the clothes on the table. He’d clearly gone shopping for the young girl who left home, because I spied a Guns N’ Roses T-shirt in the pile. At least he got the right size jeans, and a pair of them even had holes, just the way I liked them.
For the first time in a long time, I felt safe. And I realized what made it feel safe was that I had immersed myself back in the human world again. A normal world where people didn’t get their heads lopped off and I didn’t have to carry weapons and constantly flare my light in public. A world where my greatest concern would be what to watch on TV.
Yep. I could get used to this.
AFTER THROWING on my not-so-new concert shirt and a pair of jeans, I hopped in my truck and swung by a shoe store to grab a pair of black boots. Sneakers were ideal for running, but I didn’t plan on doing any running, and every girl needs a good pair of leather shoes. Doesn’t matter if they’re heels or boots. Just something that says “I’m here to kick some ass and look sexy while doing it.”
Crush wasn’t much of a city guy. Even his trailer was nestled on the outskirts of town. He didn’t live near the rolling hills or have the pastoral view that we had at Keystone, but there was a lot of vacant land in the area. All the amenities he needed were within a short driving distance, including a supermarket. I had my suspicions that he cooked a lot of barbecue or purchased his meals at the gas station, so I decided to spend more than I normally would.
I bought just about everything I could fathom. Fruit, vegetables, canned foods, frozen foods, cashews, vitamins, granola bars, healthy cereal, juice, eggs—hell, I even bought his favorite cheap aftershave, which I hated.
The shopping cart clamored against the concrete when I pushed it past the automatic doors, and a light breeze ruffled my hair. It was probably in the upper fifties, but it felt like a slice of heaven after all the snow we’d had that winter.
A woman in fur-lined boots passed by me. “Good morning!”
My face beamed as I looked at her over my shoulder. “Morning!”
I faced forward and started talking to myself. “Look at me, walking around and doing normal stuff. Just going to the grocery store, buying ordinary things, no weapons strapped to my thighs, no dangerous assignments. Just pushing my cart and—Motherfucker!”
A motorcycle swerved, narrowly missing me. I was so busy staring daggers at the man that I’d lost sight of the fact that I’d let go of the cart, and my groceries were taking off without me.
The rider quickly parked in the fire lane and, helmet still on, stared at me for an uncomfortable beat before he took off after my cart.
I chased after him. “Get away from my groceries before I cut you up!”
The cart slammed into a silver car with a loud crash, and two bags flipped out, spilling groceries onto the ground.
The man knelt down, collecting oranges and bottles of flavored water. I did a quick check to make sure no one had seen what I’d done and then pushed the cart two spaces over to my truck.
I spun on my heel. “You should watch where you’re going. You almost killed me, you asshole.”
The man swaggered over and lowered the plastic sacks into the back of my truck. His heavy motorcycle boots had a lift on the sole, but he probably leveled off at around six feet tall.
The man pulled off his tinted helmet, long brown hair tumbling in front of his face. “I thought you were already dead.”
When he raked his hair back with his fingers, I stared at him for a hot minute. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t place it.
“It’s me… Switch. Don’t you remember? I took you to a dance once back in high school when some shithead stood you up. I guess I didn’t leave much of an impression.”
I jerked my head back. “Switch?”
“Yeah. You make it sound like I grew a second head since you last saw me. Not what you expected?”
My mind hit rewind and went back to childhood. I remembered Switch as a charismatic, good-looking kid. A little on the lean side, but he’d always had toned biceps to show
off the huge tattoo on his left arm. He was three years older and out of my league. Some guys just had that indefinable thing that made them cool, and Switch had it from head to toe. I hadn’t known him very well since we didn’t go to school together and I only saw him at the occasional party or barbecue, but his father and mine were old friends.
Could this really be him? His shoulders were too broad, and the whiskers around his chin and mouth in a circle beard made it difficult to compare him to that young boy.
He frowned and gripped his helmet between his knees before taking off the long-sleeve shirt he wore over his T-shirt. Switch pivoted, showing me the tattoo of the giant owl and clock on his left arm. “Proof enough? I should be the one asking for evidence that you’re the real deal, because last I heard, you were dead.”
“Maybe I’m a ghost.”
“Good to know credit cards still work in the afterlife.” He held his helmet with one hand and centered his eyes on mine. “No, it’s definitely you. No one else has those eyes. One blue, one brown, and both sad.”
I couldn’t get over the change. Switch had grown into a man. He still had those wolfish eyebrows and prominent brow bone that made his eyes look fierce and predatory. And the more I studied his behavior, the more I realized that Switch was a wolf. No doubt about it. Shifters have common traits that you can sometimes spot even when they’re in human form. The way they tilt their head or shift their eyes, or sometimes the way they react to people around them. I was willing to bet that if I turned my back and showed him my ass, he’d wag his invisible little tail.
“I noticed Crush’s truck in the parking lot and thought I’d swing by and say hi.” He dragged his eyes up and down the length of my body and gave me a winsome smile. “Crush’s little girl, all grown up.”
I grabbed a few sacks and set them inside the truck.
Switch didn’t say a word. He just kept his eyes on me as he helped me load the groceries in the back, and his gaze was hot. So hot that my cheeks flushed and the little hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
“Since you won’t tell me how it is that you’re alive, maybe you can tell me why you’re riding around in his pickup,” he said, setting the last bag inside the truck bed.
“It’s mine now. I bought it. I’m staying with him for a little while, but don’t tell anyone.”
He put on his tinted helmet and lifted the face shield while buckling the chin strap. “I’ll meet you back at his place.”
“I didn’t invite you.”
Switch strutted back to his bike—which was still parked in the fire lane—and got on. After he started up the engine, he sat there, just looking in my direction and revving the engine.
Cursing under my breath, I shoved the cart into the return bin. There was obviously no talking him out of it, and I had to get the ice cream home before it melted.
So much for my fantasy of an uneventful, normal life.
CHAPTER 4
“How long have you been working for Keystone?” Switch asked.
I set the maple bacon in the bottom drawer of the fridge. “Not quite a year.”
After meeting up with Switch at the trailer, I had no choice but to tell him the truth about being a Mage and where I’d been these past few years. Had he been human, I wouldn’t have said a word. But given my father’s associations with Shifters and the fact that Switch’s energy felt stronger than a human’s, I decided it best to give him the truth.
He furrowed his brow. “What were you doing before that?”
Maybe now wasn’t the best time to tell him about the previous five years of my life, when I stalked and murdered men. “I was a scavenger. How long have you been a wolf?”
Switch leaned against the kitchen counter and dipped his chin. “What makes you think I’m a wolf?”
I shut the fridge and gathered up the empty plastic bags. “You just have that look about you.”
He laughed. “What look?”
“Like you want to pee all over everything and mark your territory.”
“Maybe I’m just a regular human being.”
“And maybe you’re full of it.”
He rubbed his hands together slowly, a habit I remembered from long ago. “How much has Crush told you?”
I stepped up to him. “I need to get under the sink.”
He smiled and moved aside.
“Crush told me enough that I realized my entire life has been a lie,” I said, shoving the empty plastic bags into a larger bag beneath the sink. Then I stood up and grabbed a few cans of corn and beans.
Switch opened the overhead cabinet for me. “It’s not like he had a choice. Trusted humans are forbidden from telling anyone else about Breed, and that includes family. Not unless they’re given explicit permission. Are you harping on your old man for not telling you that monsters are real?”
I forced a smile. “Maybe if he had, I wouldn’t have chosen to become one.”
Switch moseyed over to the table and sat down. “It’s not like being a Mage is a curse. You pretty much live forever.” He propped his foot on one of the chairs. “How did a Learner get a job with Keystone? I don’t know much about those organizations, but I didn’t think they hired inexperienced recruits.”
“I know a thing or two about a thing or two.”
I grabbed two bottles of watermelon-flavored water from the fridge and set them on the table. I hadn’t bothered telling Switch I was a crossbreed. We didn’t know each other that well.
“Has my father seen your Yamaha?” I asked, switching subjects. “You know he’s a Harley man.”
“At least I ride a cruiser. Your dad would never let me on the property on a sports bike.” Switch sniffed the water before guzzling it halfway down. A sour look crossed his face, and he shuddered. “Does he drink this swill?”
I sipped my water and enjoyed the fruity flavor. “He’s out of food, so I thought I’d go to the store and buy him some healthy stuff.”
“News flash—flavored water isn’t a food group.”
“It says it has vitamins.”
Switch chortled and looked up at the ceiling, his Adam’s apple jutting out. “Your dad is way past vitamins.”
I reached over and shoved his foot off the chair. “Don’t mention to anyone that you saw me, okay? Crush wants to throw a party and tell everyone at the same time, that way he doesn’t have to deal with gossip or having to explain it more than once.”
When Switch righted his head, all that long, sexy hair fell across half his face. “What kind of party? A still alive party?”
I crossed my legs. “Pretty much.”
“So… what happened to you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
His gaze grew pensive as he folded his arms on the table and leaned in. “Where’s your Creator?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” I got up to put my drink back in the fridge.
He captured my wrist and held me still. “If you have a reason you’re hiding from him, I’ll take care of it.”
If only it were that easy.
I slipped out of his grasp and opened the fridge, setting my drink inside. “There’s nothing to take care of. I came here to make peace with my dad, not to hide.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Staring at the smoked ham on the second shelf, I made up a lie that wasn’t a complete lie. “My life has been pretty crazy lately, and I needed a vacation.”
Switch chuckled and stood up. “You came to the wrong place. Don’t you remember how crazy your life used to be?”
I shut the fridge door and leaned against the sink. “Loud parties, motorcycles at all hours of the night, and my father pointing a gun at someone is a lot less crazier than jumping off an underground bridge to escape Vampires or diving through a window seconds before a bomb explodes.”
Switch locked his fingers behind his neck, his biceps rock hard as he widened his stance. “Remember the time that guy clipped your dad’s mailbox? Jesus.”
>
“I never heard that story.”
He lowered his arms, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Oh wow. That one is legendary in my old pack. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”
“No, you’re telling me or else I’ll slash your tires.”
“Ouch. Like father like daughter.” Switch tapped his chin. “How to word this… I guess you must have been around eight or something. It was back when Crush still had his… problem.”
“It’s okay to say he was an alcoholic. It’s not a family secret.”
Switch shrugged and glanced down at his motorcycle boots. “Anyhow, some asshole tore down the road and took out three mailboxes in the process. Something about him being in a fight with his ex. Your dad witnessed the whole thing while sitting outside, drinking in one of his lawn chairs. He uh…” Switch began laughing, and the more he tried not to, the worse it got. “He was still in his underwear.”
I palmed my face.
“He ran down the road after the guy, and legend has it, the beer was still in his hand.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed too.
“Anyhow, they got into a yelling match about paying for damages. A few neighbors witnessed the whole thing. Man, it’s too bad people didn’t have cell phone cameras back then.”
“What happened? A fistfight?”
“The idiot threw a watering can at Crush’s head. By the time they reached the man’s trailer, your dad was too drunk and tired to brawl with him, so he grabbed the nearest object. I guess there weren’t any bricks or shovels lying around, so he pummeled him with a blow-up shark. The guy grabbed a Hula-Hoop and used it to knock the shark out of Crush’s hands, so that’s when your dad started beating him with a garbage bag. The bag split wide open, and dirty diapers spilled everywhere.”
I threw back my head and sighed. “This is my life.”
Switch grinned and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, which were slung low on his waist. “They still like to tell that one at barbecues. It’s not so much the fight that gets people going but the walk of shame home in his underwear, the beer still in his hand.”