Alphas After Dark (9 Book Bundle of Sexy Alpha Biker Bad Boys)

by Vivian Arend

  “Vaughn. Hey, gorgeous.” She flashed me what she obviously thought was her flirty smile, but it came off as more of a sneer. “You’re in early today. No action last night?”

  I gave her a tight smile. “Lots of work to get done today. Large double espresso latte, please, and a coffee cake.” I tossed a few bills on the counter and said, “Stash the rest in the tip jar.”

  “You’re simply the sweetest,” she gushed. “I bet you—”

  Rudely, I turned my back to her and retreated into the lobby of the coffee shop. If I was forced to make conversation, this would turn ugly in two seconds flat. Today wasn’t the day for that shit.

  Norah huffed something that sounded like, “Rude-ass jerk,” under her breath as she went to work on my giant cup of caffeine. When she was done, she called my name and cast me a dirty look. After placing my items on the counter, she stood there staring me down as I picked them up.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  She scowled. Customer service be damned, I guess. “You know, if you’re going to bring that attitude in here day in and day out, you can damn well find somewhere else to go for your morning coffee. Got it?”

  Her outburst stopped me in my tracks. She’d never been anything short of bubbly and inviting before. This was a completely new side to Norah—that’s what it said on her nametag. And it amused me.

  “Did you hear me?” she barked.

  I laughed and put another dollar in the tip jar. “Yep, loud and clear, boss.” I raised the coffee and saluted her. “I’ll adjust the attitude if you will.”

  “What? I’m always nice.”

  I nodded. “Yes. But maybe too nice. It is seven in the goddamned morning. Most of us are barely functional at this hour. If you could dial it back a few notches on the flirty scale, we’d get along much better.”

  “What’s wrong, Vaughn?” she said dryly. “Too many women and not enough sleep?”

  She was half right. “Just busy and not looking for anything other than my morning coffee, if you know what I mean.”

  Disappointment lined her face, but she smiled anyway. “Got it. Now apologize so we can be friends again.”

  “I think you got all the apology you need.” I nodded to her tip jar and smiled as I walked out the front door.

  I had a bike motor almost completely torn apart when the call came in. It was Mitch, my witch stepbrother. Holding the phone with my shoulder, I grabbed a rag and fruitlessly tried to scrape the grease off my fingers. “What do you need?”

  “We’ve got a rogue witch we need you to track down. He or she appears to be summoning demons. Can you handle it?”

  “I can track the witch, but don’t expect me to bring him or her in. Not if they’re knee-deep in demons.”

  “Sure, sure,” Mitch said. “Just an ID. We’ll do the rest.”

  “Okay, but I need about half an hour,” I said, eyeing my torn and grease-smeared jeans.

  “The witch appears to be wielding the spells now, so the sooner the better. I’ll fax the information we have.”

  “Got it.”

  Mitch worked for the Witches’ Council, and his job was to bring in witches that were on their radar for some reason or other. But he had to locate them first, and that was where I came in. I’m a tracker, a bounty hunter, for the supernatural crowd. I didn’t have any real powers per se, only that I could sense magic when I was near someone wielding it. I was also really good at not being seen when I didn’t want to be. That’s what made me good at tracking. I could watch without being suspicious.

  On my way out, I stopped by the boss’s office. “Yo, Rick. I’m taking off for a few hours. I should have that bike done by tomorrow.”

  He waved me off without even looking up. He was relaxed in the extreme. It was one of the reasons I enjoyed working for him. As long as I got the job done, he didn’t give a shit how much I worked or didn’t work. In fact, the fewer hours I put in, the better, at least as far as his wallet was concerned.

  My bike roared to life, and I took off for my apartment, where the recent memory of Matisse refused to disappear. The moment I walked in, I felt her presence with me again. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered as I headed to the shower. “Get a grip, Paxton.”

  Ten minutes later, fresh from the shower and once again in clean clothes, I strode to the back of my apartment to my small makeshift office. The fax was waiting for me. The sheet was blank except for GPS coordinates. It would be the last known location, and that was all I was going to get.

  Time to go. I bypassed my Indian and rounded the corner to my nondescript black SUV. After firing up the GPS, I took off. The mark was likely a young witch messing around with demon spells. It wasn’t uncommon for teens to start dealing in darker magic. It was sort of like a drug for them. Forbidden and exciting. But it wasn’t until my navigation system pointed me to the Coven Pointe neighborhood that I started to get a bad feeling.

  The coven that lived there kept to themselves and rarely mixed with the rest of the witches of New Orleans. Not that I dealt with many of the other witches much. I’d met Beatrice Kelton a few times, the New Orleans coven leader. She ran a magic shop that sold some potions and healing herbs that even mundane people could use. If they knew what they were doing, that is. But I’d never had a reason to track one of her witches. That coven took care of their own.

  The ones I was sent after were usually loners or ones who were just passing through. If this was a job dealing with the Coven Pointe witches, things could go south fast.

  I drove down Opelousas and turned right on Sequin, heading for the levee. The location Mitch had sent over put the witch right on the edge of the Mississippi River. That was going to make fading into the background somewhat difficult. I’d just have to make do.

  After parking my car on a side street, I shrugged into a dark jacket, pulled on a knitted cap, and grabbed my professional digital camera. It was used to take close-ups of my targets, but if anyone was paying attention to me, they’d likely assume I was a professional photographer. In New Orleans, photographers were a dime a dozen.

  Damn it was cold. Up on the bike path that overlooked the Mississippi, the wind blew right through my jeans, nearly freezing my balls off. And to make matters worse, the entire waterfront was deserted. Not a single person populated the banks of the river. Shit. Had I misread the coordinates? I pulled the paper out of my back pocket and checked again. Nope. I must have missed the witch.

  To make sure, I spent the next few minutes shooting pictures of the waterfront and then scanned the area once more. Nothing. Time to walk the streets. I tucked my camera into its pack and took off toward the neighborhood, but a tingle of magic caught my attention. It was coming from somewhere near the river.

  Squinting, I moved to the edge of the ridge. There was no one. But damn, if that magic wasn’t there. Then a flash of light that had me shielding my eyes came out of thin air. On impulse, I pulled the camera back out and set it on rapid fire. Whatever was going on, I needed to capture it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MATISSE

  Chessa pushed me behind her as the shadow morphed into solid form. “Go back to our world,” she ordered.

  “You want me to leave you here?” I asked, incredulity filling my tone. “Are you nuts?”

  “Mati, you have—”

  The demon charged out of the portal, his face contorted in rage. His red-tinted eyes narrowed at Chessa before he dismissed her and lunged, grabbing for me.

  I jumped back, calling my magic to my fingertips. Sparks erupted, creating tiny lightning bolts of energy that fed into the ground.

  “No!” Chessa’s voice boomed in the darkness as she hurled an impressive fireball at the demon. But he only opened his mouth and caught it, swallowing it whole.

  “Holy shit.” Adrenaline fueled my magic, making the electricity come in stronger bursts. An electric barrier of pure energy formed around me, shielding me. And when the demon lashed out, connecting with the current, he yanked his gnarled hand b
ack and screamed in obvious pain.

  Chessa backed off, keeping a close eye on the demon, but I could see brilliant white power building around her in a fog.

  “Who are you to knock at the door of Hell and deign to fight me?” Undeterred, the demon inched forward, advancing on me. “Your soul is worthless to me.” He sniffed. “Dirty, foul sex witch. You’re destined to spend the rest of your days trapped in stone for your sins.”

  My eyes widened in surprise at his outburst. Demons had a problem with sex witches? Was he kidding me? Demons? Then I met his evil glare with one of my own. “And you’re destined to spend the rest of your days as ash, you evil soul-sucking bastard.”

  Focusing on the rage-induced power streaming from my fingers, I lifted my arms and threw everything I had at him. But all he did was raise a hand and let it all stream into him as if he was feeding off me.

  I gasped, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than I ever had before. A moment ago, my power had scorched him. Now it did nothing to stop this demon. And he’d swallowed Chessa’s fireball. She was right. I had to get out of there. But I couldn’t leave her. And what about the demon? We’d called one up. If we left now, who knew where he’d end up?

  “Reverto!” Chessa cried and flung a bolt of light at the demon. Again, he opened his mouth to welcome the magic, but instead of swallowing it down, the magic grew into a giant ball in his mouth. He stumbled back, writhing and choking on the electric energy.

  Chessa grabbed my hand and squeezed as we both watched in fascinated horror.

  “What’s happening?” I asked, a tremor in my voice.

  “I recalled the magic I threw at him earlier. Now it’s mixing and if I did the spell right—”

  The demon’s eyes bulged and then a loud boom sounded as his head exploded, sending demon guts flying. We both ducked, but scaly flesh still landed on my arm.

  “Oh, gross.” My stomach rolled, and I struggled to hold back a gag.

  The horrified look on Chessa’s face told me she was doing the same thing.

  The demon’s body was lying on the ground twitching, no head in sight. Then as we backed away, the body combusted into ash.

  “Whoa,” I said, releasing Chessa’s hand. Had my sister really just blown up a demon?

  “Disgusting.” She wiped dust off her white blouse and wrinkled her nose. “We better go.”

  “Yeah.” I could barely breathe. Everything about what just happened was too horrifying.

  “But we need to reappear in another spot. Preferably in a coven circle. If any more demons are coming, they’ll follow. It’ll be harder for them to burst through a properly sealed circle.”

  Harder but not impossible. I suppressed a shudder. “Okay.” I could use our coven’s circle, but it was in the middle of the Pointe and far too exposed, so I opted to borrow the New Orleans coven’s circle. Theirs was shielded by a grove of oak trees. Aunt Dayla would approve. She’d been at war with their coven leader for years. Using their circle would be a bonus to her. Not that I had any issue with them. I just didn’t want to explain to the rest of the coven what Chessa and I had been up to.

  Chessa could maneuver through the shadows, but she didn’t know them as well as I did, so I grabbed her hand again and focused on the circle, which wasn’t too far from my college campus. It was on the other side of the river and we had no way to get home, but we’d figure it out.

  The shadows started to fade, and my vision blurred with a hazy reality of green. When everything came back into focus, we were standing exactly where I’d willed us to go—smack-dab in the middle of the New Orleans’ coven circle. Large oaks surrounded the clearing. The grass was pale green with patches of brown dead spots. No one was around.

  The first thing I did was stop, drop, and roll to scrape away the demon remnants. Chessa stared at me, disgusted. I didn’t care. The guts had to go, and what didn’t come off easily, I rubbed on the patches of green grass. “You’re crazy if you think I’m walking around with demon guts clinging to me.”

  She shook her head and waved a hand. Shimmering light spun around us both, and when it disappeared with a pop, we were both in fresh clothes, no guts in sight.

  “Well that was… freaking awesome.” I climbed to my feet. “How long have you been holding that spell back?”

  She gave me a noncommittal shrug. “I try not to show off when it isn’t necessary. But you’re right. There was no way I was going anywhere in those clothes.” She slipped her arm through mine. “Come on. I’ll walk you to class. I hear you have a test to take.”

  We were only blocks from the university, but I wasn’t exactly prepared. I frowned and glanced at my watch. Forty minutes until class started. “My notes and supplies are at home.”

  “Oh, no problem.” She snapped her fingers, and my backpack appeared from thin air.

  “What? I mean…?” Jeez. When had she become Ms. Super Powerful? I rummaged through the backpack and found everything I needed. “How did you do that?”

  She grinned. “Being head angel in charge has its perks.”

  VAUGHN

  The rapid click of the shutter filled my senses as I focused on the bright magic pulsing on the banks of the Mississippi. I couldn’t see anything but light and hoped the camera picked up something of use.

  “What’s that?” a male voice asked from behind me.

  Fuck. Where’d he come from? My heart rate sped up with the surprise intrusion, and I took a deep breath as I turned around.

  An older gentlemen dressed in a velour jogging suit squinted at the now fading light.

  I shrugged and took a few more pictures. “No idea. Alien activity?”

  “Government testing. Or radioactive contamination.” The man chuckled and saluted me as he continued on down the path.

  “Riiight.” I turned back to the light, only to find it was completely gone and so was the magic. “Shit!”

  I glanced over at the man. Had he been part of it? Been a distraction? It was possible. But that didn’t explain where the magic had come from. Frustrated, I packed my camera back in its case and took off to search the neighborhood. I spent the next hour scouring the streets, but it was virtually useless. Too many witches lived there. I sensed magic in at least a dozen homes. There was no way to know if the one who’d been casting on the riverfront was in one of the houses now.

  Frustrated, I climbed back into my SUV and headed home. Maybe I’d find something on the camera.

  Back home in the Garden District, I called the shop to let the boss know I wouldn’t be in until the next day.

  “Whatever, man,” Rick said. “Have fun with the lady.”

  “What lady?” I plugged my camera’s memory card into the computer.

  “The one who came looking for you. I though that’s why you took off for the day.”

  Matisse? Had she stopped by the shop? How had she known where to find me? “What did she say?”

  “Nothing. She was just looking for you. When you weren’t here, she left. Real looker, too. Nice score, man.”

  For some reason his words pissed me off. They shouldn’t, but they did. I didn’t like thinking about the old perv ogling her. “Yeah. All right. See you tomorrow.”

  I sat at my desk, irritated at Mitch for sending me on a run that made me miss a visit from Mati. And if I didn’t find the witch he was after, I wouldn’t get paid at all. Shit. Get your head in the game, asshole. After a trip into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, I carried my mug back to the computer and got to work.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MATISSE

  The test did not go well. I spent half the hour trying to block the demon out of my mind. But I just kept seeing him explode over and over again. The spreadsheet I was supposed to be filling in was just a sea of numbers. Who gave a shit about accounting when a demon had tried to kill me less than an hour ago?

  Five minutes before class ended, I saved my file and clicked out of the program. No doubt I’d failed. I’d just sealed my fate. I’d have to retake
the class for sure.

  Outside in the hall I avoided Brandon, who was talking to one of his frat friends, and slipped out of the building. With my head down, I headed straight for Saint Charles. Once there, I hopped on the streetcar and settled in the back. I’m not sure I even knew where I intended to go until I jumped off near the Garden District. There was only one reason I’d ended up there.

  Vaughn. Nervous energy skittered through me. What was I doing?

  At least I had an excuse. With single-minded determination, I headed straight down Sixth Street until I was standing in front of the white Victorian. My breath caught in my throat. The light shining from his front windows told me everything I needed to know. He was home.

  I could always leave after I got my keys, right? Yeah, that’s what I’d come for. I scoffed at myself. Who was I kidding? After the day I had, all I wanted to do was lose myself in someone and recharge. I took a deep breath and went for it.

  My knuckles hit the wood door in three solid raps.

  Footsteps sounded from inside.

  I glanced around and seriously considered darting behind a large water oak, but the door swung open before I could move, and there he was in his dark jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and socks. He looked so relaxed. And even more inviting than he had the night before. My insides melted.

  “Hey.” He leaned against the doorframe and gave me a smug smile.

  Cocky bastard. I raised one eyebrow as I eyed his overconfident stance. “Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”