by D McEntire
As he was getting ready to pull away from the curb, another vehicle exited the garage. He waited until it passed to follow.
The second car drove down Main Street. When it turned onto the on-ramp of the interstate, David caught sight of the SUV several car-lengths ahead. He backed off, but kept both vehicles in sight. He had a feeling of exactly where they were headed.
David had been correct in his assumptions as the vehicles exited the interstate and drove down Dixie Highway. Several miles later, they took a left-hand turn onto the street where Sonya lived.
The two vehicles parked alongside the curb, but David continued driving. He didn't want the Watchers to know they'd been followed.
A block and a half down the road, he turned into a driveway, then pulled back out into the street, and returned in the direction of Sonya's house. Finding a vacant spot, he parked his car and watched.
The tall, dark Watcher escorted Sonya up the stairs and into her home. Two other Watchers followed close behind, their heads turning in every direction, obviously scanning for trouble, he thought.
David's fangs elongated and poked his lips as he silently seethed. Sonya was his. The Watcher had no right to have his hands on her. He had no right to interfere.
Hands gripping the steering wheel hard, he heard cracking noises beneath his fingers. David closed his eyes and breathed deeply, reaching for a measure of calm. Going off half cocked and bursting through the door wouldn't get Sonya back. It would only get himself killed. He wasn't stupid to think he could take on three skilled warriors alone. He'd heard enough about them from other vampires to know better. No, he had to use stealth to get her back, and he knew just how to do it. He'd use the one thing she cared for the most--the school.
"I'll get the door. When we came by to check on you, I found your keys and locked the front door before we left."
The click of the lock sounded before a small squeak heralded the opening of her front door.
Sonya allowed Tank to lead her inside. Although she knew the way around her home, she felt a little shaky at returning. Memories of the seemingly innocent conversation with David as she'd begun fixing them both a cup of hot chocolate drifted into her mind.
Meow. Meow.
"Brat," she said in a breath of relief when the feline suddenly began roughly head-butting her leg. Though she braced herself for his weight, a grunt still escaped as she hefted the furry mass into her arms. "Oh, Brat. I missed you."
Soft fur rubbed her cheek--Brat's way of giving kisses--and she laughed. It felt good to have him in her arms once again. And though it hadn't been her fault, she felt guilty he'd been left alone.
"Brat. I'm sorry. I hope you didn't think I'd abandoned you. I'd never do that, sweetie." Sonya gave him a snug hug, ignoring his squirming to get down.
Sonya laughed. "At least you're okay. Same ol' cantankerous self." She bent and let him go, hearing a thump as his paws hit the floor.
"What would you like me to do, Sonya?" Tank asked.
Straightening, she thought a moment. "My cane's behind the door, and I'll need my coat which should also be there. Um...do you see my purse anywhere? I usually put it on the small table when I come inside."
"Yes. It's here. I'll place them on the couch."
Sonya nodded then headed for the stairs. Hearing Brat's soft purr, she stopped. "Oh, Brat's food's in the kitchen inside a cabinet next to the refrigerator. We'll also need his litter box. I'll take care of him and clean up after him. I don't want to add any more burdens."
Before Tank could argue she was definitely no burden to him or anyone else in the Cell, she'd turned and ascended the stairs.
When Kern and Trigg filed inside, Tank took in the sight of her living room. With the three of them standing there, the room looked as though it had shrunk several feet since he'd first stepped through the door.
Meow.
"Here, kitty, kitty," Kern cooed.
Tank turned to see Brat sprawled on the back of the couch, his tail flicking about as if telling everyone he is king of this castle. Yellow eyes blinked at them.
"That's Brat, and he's coming with us," Tank said in a matter of fact tone. "So, which of you is going to pack up the litter box?" He gave them both a wide sucks-to-be-one-of-you smile.
He couldn't help but laugh at the none-too-happy look on their faces. He could almost hear the wheels turning in their heads as to how each was going to make the other do the job. Then, it was decided.
"Since I'm Second in Command, I guess shit rolls downhill, literally," Trigg said as he slapped a hand on Kern's shoulder. "Be sure to empty and clean it first before you put it in Tank's SUV."
Just as Tank turned to head into the kitchen, he heard Kern grumble.
"This is not why I came along."
Glancing over his shoulder, he watched Kern approach the couch and the cat. Laid out as he was, he looked more like a small, furry dog. He had a head bigger than a saucer and paws about the size of a pair of children's shoes.
He saw Kern shake his head and heard him mutter, "Damn, cat. What the hell does she feed you?"
When Brat yawned, showing rows of sharp teeth as he stood, then stretched, arching his massive back and teetering slightly, Tank almost laughed at the sight. From the cat's black and white fur, he resembled a miniature dairy cow on a balance beam.
Sonya rooted through the contents of her closet and found her suitcase. Setting it on the floor, she shoved open the top. Since her wardrobe was pretty basic, only colors that mixed and matched perfectly since she couldn't see to put together trendy looks, she knew it wouldn't be hard to choose what to take with her.
Knowing she wouldn't be going anywhere, at least not for awhile, to need her more business attire, she removed casual clothes from the closet. She held in her mind the thought of returning to school after winter break and settling back into a routine with her students before they began working on the next concert.
"Do you need any help?" A soft voice from the doorway gave her a start. She'd been taking a trip down memory lane, or rather, reliving the train wreck that had been her childhood and hadn't heard anyone come up the stairs.
"Uh, no. I just need to grab a few more things." Sonya quickly hefted the suitcase onto the bed so she wouldn't trip over it and went to her dresser and pulled open the top drawer.
Sonya hesitated before removing any items. She listened to determine where Tank was in the room while wishing she'd already packed her unmentionables. Why was she being so silly? Throw the stuff in there for Pete's sake. It's just clothes.
Sonya berated herself for acting childish and being embarrassed to pack her panties and bras in front of Tank. Then again, he was a stranger, and he was a man, her shy side rebelled.
Resolved to get it over with, she felt her way through the soft fabric and grabbed several pairs of panties in one hand and the same amount of bras in the other. In a rush, she practically sprinted to bed and threw them in the suitcase, praying all landed inside and not on the floor.
Just as she was about to slam the case shut, Tank spoke.
"You missed something. This didn't quite make it into the suitcase."
As a piece of lace brushed her hand when Tank dropped an article of clothing into the suitcase, her heart came to a screeching halt. She could almost hear the fifty-car pileup in her chest. The item that had missed landing inside the suitcase was a pair of her panties. Blood climbed her neck and heated her face. What she wouldn't give to crawl under the bed and hide at that moment, she thought grimly.
Socks.
The thought struck her out of nowhere, and she was grateful for the distraction. Turning quickly, she started for the dresser once more when her foot caught on the corner of the bedspread hanging off the foot of the bed, and her body fell forward. She grabbed at the air, but it didn't come to her aid.
Strong hands caught her, gripping her arms firmly, but gently. Sonya sucked in a breath, startled both by the initial trip, then the sudden rescue.
Warm
breath fanned her face, and Sonya knew she stood mere inches from Tank. She wished she could see him at that moment, wanting to gather even the slightest hint of what he was thinking.
Lips gently brushed over hers, and her heart did a double beat at the touch. She didn't move. She couldn't. Her feet seemed riveted to the floor.
His lips brushed over hers once more, then settled over them fully. Sonya relished the contact. She opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to dance with hers. Her ears caught a low rumble, which she knew hadn't come from her, but she totally agreed with the sentiment.
"Ah hem."
The sound of someone clearing his throat made Sonya jump, and she felt Tank jump as well. They immediately broke contact. Tank's hands instantly disappeared from her arms.
Sonya turned away, attempting to hide her embarrassment.
"Yes?"
From Tank's tone, Sonya knew he was definitely pissed at the interruption. Though she felt embarrassed at being caught, she was also a little disappointed at having to stop.
"We've got the cat loaded. We'll wait downstairs until you're ready to go."
It had been Trigg who had interrupted them, Sonya noted. The air in the room chilled. After several moments of complete silence, she heard the rustle of fabric, then footsteps on the stairs, telling her Trigg had left the room. She took the opportunity to busy herself by returning to the task of packing.
"Sonya?"
Sonya heard footsteps rounding the bed, but she didn't stop what she was doing, which was pulling a pair of boots from under the corner of her bed. She let out a grunt as she tossed them onto the mattress. "Huh?"
"You haven't packed any socks or pajamas. I'll get them for you."
Yes, socks. She'd started to get them when she'd gotten a case of the clumsies and tripped over the bedspread, then landed in Tank's arms. To stop herself from going there again, she returned to her earlier position under the bed and felt for tennis shoes and a pair of house slippers. With a toss, she hefted them both onto the bed.
Now she needed a bag for her shoes, she told herself. Pushing herself to stand, she headed for the closet, but ran smack into Tank who was still at her dresser, evidentially getting the socks as he'd suggested. She lifted her hands and felt leather beneath her palms. Slowly, she ran her hands upward and discovered she touched Tank's back.
Her initial shock became insatiable curiosity. Rock hard muscles rolled beneath the fabric of his jacket with each inhale and exhale of his breath. She could hear him breathe, and not because of her enhanced vampire hearing. The sound was loud, labored. He shuddered beneath her fingertips as she continued her exploration. Those shudders she understood as her own body trembled with excitement and desire.
Tank turned, and she took the opportunity to move in closer. His masculine scent enveloped her. Leaning in further, she pressed her face against his chest. Sensations tumbled over her, and she relished them. His heart thudded beneath her cheek. Warm hands slid up her arms then encircled her back, holding her in a tight embrace.
"Sonya."
He breathed her name, and she felt the air in her hair. He must be looking down at her, she thought.
Sonya felt safe. She felt cherished. She felt loved.
A part of her warned she was making a big mistake letting her emotions get away from her. She was going through a horrible ordeal at the moment, but soon she'd be back on her feet and on her own. Depending on Tank and leaning on him was not going to help her. Sure, it felt wonderful right now, but not having the luxury in the future was going to break her heart.
Quickly sobered by her rational side, Sonya stepped out of his embrace, glad when he didn't stop her.
"I...uh...I need to grab another bag out of the closet for my shoes. They're probably dirty, and I don't want to pack them with my clothes." Sonya knew she was doing some nervous rambling now, but she didn't care. As long as it kept her focused on something other than the urges she couldn't, or actually shouldn't, act upon.
She'd been perilously close to walking that hard, male body backward until he came up against the wall. Then what would she have done? She had no idea, but she was sure she wouldn't have had any trouble thinking of something.
Sonya almost groaned aloud. What was wrong with her? She'd only been with this man for one day, and now she was fighting the desire to pounce on him in her bedroom. Two men, with excellent hearing no doubt, waited downstairs for heaven's sake. Sonya couldn't believe herself. She needed a shower and a tall, cold drink.
Sonya seemed to be a million miles away. She stood facing him, though she didn't move or speak. "Here, put these in your suitcase. I'll grab another bag for you."
In an attempt to break whatever spell she was under, Tank pressed several pairs of socks into her hands, draped a nightgown over her shoulder, turned her to face the bed and gently pushed her forward.
The way she'd touched him after plowing into his back had him feeling a desperate need to remove his all-too-tight leathers. When her hands had traveled over his back and shoulders, it had nearly sent him over the edge. He'd had to hold on to his control before he'd given in to the urge to toss her on the bed and rip every last bit of clothing covering her body with his teeth. Keeping his hands off Sonya was becoming harder and harder with each minute he was with her.
Footsteps echoed downstairs, which seemed purposely loud, Tank thought. He checked his watch. The guys were no doubt getting antsy and ready to leave. Turning to survey the room, he was satisfied they'd retrieved all that was needed, for now.
With a quick grab of the suitcase and bag from the bed, Tank realized he had no free hands to assist Sonya down the stairs. Before he could react, she'd already left the room. After one last scan, he followed.
When Tank reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard Trigg chuckling.
"I believe this is supposed to be worn under the shirt and not attached to it."
Tank rounded the corner and froze. Trigg held one of Sonya's bras in his hand. The look of confusion on Sonya's face meant she hadn't yet figured out what the warrior was referring to. The Watcher really did know how to piss him off, he thought. With a growl he dropped the suitcase and bag on the couch, stalked over to Trigg and snatched the bra from his hand.
Tank knew in no way was Trigg flirting with Sonya. His love for Robyn would never allow him to do such a thing. Nonetheless, seeing Trigg touch his woman's intimate items got his blood boiling. And, he was definitely not feeling his brother's sense of humor at the moment.
His woman.
The beast stirred, and Tank felt his blood pulse wildly through his veins. His fangs elongated, and his vision became unfocused, hazed by a shade of red that darkened. A warning growl erupted from his throat.
"Tank?"
Sonya's voice immediately shut him down, bringing him back under control. He approached and lifted her coat from where it was draped over her arm. With quick motions, he slid one arm through the sleeve, then another, ignoring the little annoyed huff she let out as he did so. Realizing he still held her bra in his hand, he shoved it into her coat pocket.
"It's time to go."
He knew his tone sounded harsh, but he was still simmering beneath the surface. He and Trigg were going to have a long talk later.
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Chapter Twelve
Sonya stood still as Tank roughly dressed her in her coat. He fastened the buttons then tugged on the fasteners to make sure she was snug, something a parent would do to a child.
"Are you warm enough?"
Sonya's tongue ignored her brain's recommendation to release sarcasm. "Are you sure you got all the buttons. I mean, I might walk out there and catch my death of cold, you know."
A snort made her turn her head. She heard a cough and footsteps heading toward the door. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, knowing the sound had come from either Trigg or Kern. She guessed she shouldn't pick on Tank. Besides, he was only trying to care for her.
That t
hought made her pause. Why? Why is he fixated on taking care of me? She knew she shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. She'd never met the man before, yet he was seeing to it she had everything she needed. Was he somehow involved in this and cared for her out of guilt? Did he know David?
Her mind's creation of absurd thoughts began a slow ache behind her eyes, and she tried to shut it down. She knew she was not yet one hundred percent after the change, which that alone she still found a hard pill to swallow. Soon she'd get her life back to normal. It was a mantra she was going to keep telling herself in order to hold her growing fear and anxiety at bay. Her life's purpose was one thing--teaching. How could she possibly walk away from that? No, she wouldn't. She refused to give up on the only thing that made her feel important, normal.
When she was with the children, helping them learn new things and explore all the wondrous things they can do despite their disability, she felt alive.
Sonya let out a sigh, thinking about the children and the school. She missed them. Missed hearing their laughter.
Once outside, a snowflake tickled her nose, and she lifted her head to allow more flakes to caress her face. What did snow look like? She'd often wondered such things. Having to use her imagination as well as descriptions from others to paint the picture for her.
After reaching Tank's SUV, he opened the door, and she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt. When the door closed, she reached into her coat pocket to find out what Tank had shoved in there before they'd left the house.
Her fingers touched lace and elastic. One of her bras had somehow gotten hooked on her shirt without her knowing. Most likely it had happened while she had been rolling on the floor trying to retrieve shoes from under her bed.
Sonya started to groan in mortification, until she remembered Trigg's joke and couldn't help but laugh. Pulling the bra from her pocket, she muttered, "Traitor. You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
The rear door of the SUV closing had her shoving the bra back into her pocket. Okay, now she was really losing it, she thought. She was accusing clothing items of conspiracy.