Bad Boys of the Night: Eight Sizzling Paranormal Romances: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by Jennifer Ashley

  Broderick and Spike agreed on the time to meet in the morning, and Spike and Tiger made to depart. At the bottom of the porch steps, Tiger turned back.

  “The Guardian Network holds the secrets,” he said. Then he walked away, passing Spike in the darkness, and was gone.

  Spike flashed a no idea what he’s on about look over his shoulder, and jogged across the street in Tiger’s wake.

  Broderick remained on the porch, enjoying the cool air for a while, wondering what the hell Tiger meant. Tiger loved to spring these cryptic pieces of information on Broderick, to make Broderick’s head hurt trying to figure them out. Tiger always proved to be right no matter how obscure the problem, and Broderick had learned not to argue with him.

  But if he conceded Tiger might be right about the Guardian Network, then he’d have to agree that Tiger’s conviction that Joanne was Broderick’s mate was true as well.

  No question. Damn the furry, tiger-striped bastard.

  ***

  “Hell, yes, I’m going with you,” Joanne told Broderick over her first cup of coffee. Aunt Cora had been up with the sun, in spite of the late night, handing Joanne a welcome, steaming mug as she stumbled into the kitchen after showering and dressing.

  Broderick, the big lump, was polishing off a heaping plate of bacon and eggs, telling Aunt Cora that he and Spike and Tiger were going after his kidnappers this morning. When Joanne said she wanted to accompany him—she could look at the woman’s computers and figure out what she was up to—Broderick came on all alpha male.

  “No,” he said in a stern voice. “Too dangerous.”

  Joanne thumped down across from him. The sunny kitchen sported a long, old wooden farm table, scrubbed and scraped over the years. Aunt Cora kept it strewn with straw placemats, and she’d tied bright red-gingham cushions to the seats of the heavy wooden chairs. The kitchen was always warm and gleaming, copper pots hanging over the stove, the smell of something good baking in the oven. Joanne had spent her youngest years in her grandmother’s farmhouse kitchen in north Texas, and Aunt Cora’s always filled her with nostalgia.

  This morning, however, Broderick was pushing nostalgia away and filling Joanne with irritation.

  “Do you know another computer hacker as good as me who can help you?” Joanne demanded.

  “Yes.” Broderick took a calm mouthful and swallowed. “The woman Pablo Marquez lives with. Forget her name. She’s supposed to be very good.”

  Pablo was a crime lord, a leader of some very bad men, who, it was true, kept others even worse in line. Pablo had helped Shifters a time or two, but always reluctantly. From what little Joanne had seen of him, he was very protective of his family, matching even the protectiveness of Shifters.

  “Right.” Joanne scowled at Broderick. “Pablo is going to loan out his girlfriend to help you go after a dangerous hacker, because he’s so in love with Shifters.”

  Broderick hesitated. “Well, I haven’t exactly asked him yet. We wanted to grab the woman first.”

  “Why wait?” Joanne plunked her coffee mug to the straw mat. “I’m the best person besides Sean you have on hand for anything computer-related. And it’s not like I’m bad at going into danger. I helped you find my sister, didn’t I?”

  As Broderick’s brows drew together, Joanne thought maybe that hadn’t been the best argument. Joanne had let herself be taken by the un-Collared Shifters back to their bunker, with a tracker in her pocket, where they’d found Nancy. The tracker hadn’t been Broderick’s idea—that had been Walker’s instinct during the situation. Walker was a Special Forces guy, who’d been assigned to the hunt for Nancy and had come with all sorts of toys that helped them breach the compound.

  Broderick had been very upset at Walker for leaving Joanne with the Shifters. “Yeah,” he said now. “And I’m still not happy about that.”

  In spite of his bad temper and having been abducted and shot, Broderick looked none the worse for wear this morning. In fact he looked good, a treat for the eyes. His short dark hair was damp from a shower, and he’d shaved, which emphasized the strong bones of his face. His body was just as strong, biceps stretching the short sleeves of his T-shirt. He had tatts on his arms, flames and one of a dragon that looped its tail around his wrist. Shifters liked tattoos, which, for some reason, did not remain when they became their animals.

  Broderick’s gray eyes were free from the pain Joanne had seen in him last night, though the rage about his abduction remained. He extended that anger to Joanne now, his protective instincts rising.

  Aunt Cora shoveled a large mountain of scrambled eggs onto a plate for Joanne. Shifters didn’t believe in skimpy portions. “Take her with you,” she said to Broderick. “I’ll worry about you less if Joanne goes along. I can at least trust her to keep you alive and out of trouble.”

  Broderick gave his aunt a weary glance as she approached the table. “Aunt Cora …”

  Aunt Cora firmed her mouth. “Either she goes, or you tell Dylan to fetch this girl himself.”

  Broderick had a stare-down with her, which he lost. On purpose, Joanne knew. Broderick was the alpha of the group without question, but Aunt Cora was special to him. He snarled under his breath and returned his focus to his breakfast. “I can’t believe the shit I put up with …”

  “You’ll put up with a lot more if you don’t take Joanne,” Aunt Cora growled. She shoved Joanne’s breakfast in front of her and went back to making more for Broderick’s brothers, who hadn’t appeared yet. “If Joanne doesn’t go, I will.”

  Broderick sent her an alarmed look. “You can’t,” he said flatly.

  “Try and stop me.”

  Broderick heaved a long, heavy, aggrieved sigh. “All right, all right. Joanne can come.” He pointed a thick finger across the table at her. “But you stay back and stay safe. No running off on your own trying to find the woman or catch her. You got that?”

  “Am I supposed to say, Yes, sir?” Joanne lifted her fork and batted her eyelashes. “Or, Yes, dear?”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re funny.”

  Joanne flashed him a triumphant look and attacked her meal. She’d never eat it all, but she knew that Broderick or the three brothers who pushed their way into the kitchen would.

  Broderick’s brothers were still uncertain about Joanne, and she wasn’t entirely comfortable with them yet. The McNaughtons were a close family, but they were rough-and-tumble close, which Joanne wasn’t used to. Her own upbringing had been sedate. She and Nancy, though very different, had never had a problem showing their love for each other. Broderick and his brothers took a different approach, usually a loud one.

  The youngest was Mason. He was just past his Transition and ready to take on the world. He walked in a restless slouch to plop down in a chair next to Joanne, giving her his unnerving gray stare.

  The next brother up was Derek, who was around fifty, which was still young for a Shifter—Broderick was a hundred something. He was the wildest of the brothers, Joanne had come to learn, disappearing for days at a time. No one worried about him—even Aunt Cora knew he’d turn up, hungry and exhausted and sleep for a day and a half. Broderick gave him grief, saying he could get the family, maybe all Shifters in deep shit if he wasn’t careful, and Derek would growl at him to mind his own business.

  Next up was Corey, nearly a hundred. He never said much. He resembled Broderick the most, but he had a completely different personality. Where Broderick blustered, Corey was quietly competent. He won plenty of fights at the fight club without much fuss. He’d never go up against Broderick, though.

  None of the brothers fought each other at the fight club, and Broderick wouldn’t let Mason even enter the rings. While it was a rule of the club that winning a fight did not change the dominance level of a Shifter, there was always the underlying awareness that it did. Broderick’s family was uneasy enough as it was—challenging each other’s dominance at the fight club would stir up trouble at home, and all of them knew it.

  Privately, Joanne t
hought that the brothers simply knew that Broderick would always be able to kick their asses. They didn’t want their faces rubbed in that truth, so they obeyed him without fuss.

  “Hey, Joanne.” Derek paused to rub her shoulder.

  Joanne knew enough about Shifters by now to understand that Derek wasn’t coming on to her. Shifters communicated a lot by touch, used it to soothe, and as a sign of acceptance. Derek was showing he approved of her being here.

  Broderick glanced at him, but said nothing. Derek continued his massage, which Joanne admitted felt good. Mason and Corey said nothing to Joanne at all, though they both gave her perfunctory nods.

  Joanne was right that the brothers finished her half-eaten plate of food. After breakfast was done, she ran upstairs to hurry through teeth brushing and saying good-bye to Nancy, who briefly emerged from Aleck’s room to see her. Joanne raced downstairs again, certain Broderick would leave without her if she dawdled.

  Broderick waited for her on the porch. A little surprised he’d not ditched her, Joanne smiled at him. “Let’s go kick some hacker ass,” she said.

  Broderick didn’t return the smile. “You leave ass kicking to me and the Shifters. Any sign of trouble, you get down and stay down.”

  “I’m not completely stupid,” Joanne said, her frown coming on. “Then again, I’m not the one who got shot last night.”

  She’d meant only to tease him, but Broderick’s face turned an interesting shade of red. He came at her, wrapped strong hands about her waist, lifted her, and sat her butt on the railing of the porch.

  “This isn’t a game, Jo-Jo. You could get hurt. If you think it didn’t kill me when Walker left you alone in that Shifter bar—and I knew I might never see you again—you’d be wrong.”

  The growl in Broderick’s voice was fierce, his eyes changing from dark gray to light like mist as he pushed his face close to hers.

  “But I was all right,” Joanne said, gentling her voice. “Walker knew I would be, or he wouldn’t have left me.”

  “I don’t agree. Walker would have done any damn thing to fulfill his mission and to impress that Kodiak she-bear he pants after.”

  “And I knew you’d come for me,” Joanne said.

  Broderick stilled, his eyes changing back to the smoky color she liked. “You’re damn right I did.”

  Broderick kissed her—a hard, raw kiss that scraped her lips and made them ache. Joanne’s head went back under the onslaught, caught by his strong hand.

  As quickly as it started, the kiss ended. Broderick released her, breathing hard, as he ran his fingertips down Joanne’s cheek, the caress firm.

  “Spike’s here,” he said abruptly. Broderick brushed another kiss over her burning lips then turned and walked down off the porch.

  Joanne gulped air, her heart pounding as she grabbed the railing to steady herself. She watched Broderick striding toward the edge of the yard, raising a broad hand in greeting to Spike, Tiger, and another Shifter, Seamus. Like Aleck, Seamus didn’t wear a Collar, never had one. The fake he’d been given gleamed on his neck.

  “Don’t mind Brod.” Mason’s voice sounded abruptly behind her, making Joanne give a little yip of surprise. Mason stood behind the front screen door, its mesh softening his bulk. “He never knows which way his head is screwed on.”

  Joanne fumbled for words. “I … Yeah. He’s fine.”

  “He goes hot and cold, because he’s pretty sure you’ll dump him in the end,” Mason went on. “He’s really bad at relationships.”

  “Mason.” Aunt Cora joined him behind screen. “When you try looking for a mate, boyo, you’ll understand how tough it is. Better go on, Joanne. And take care of him.”

  Aunt Cora laid her hand on Mason’s shoulder, more or less dragged him back into the house, and shut the front door.

  Joanne let out a breath, taking in Mason’s declaration, then she turned and ran on sneakered feet to meet Broderick.

  Broderick was looking over the collected Shifters and the battered black truck they were apparently to use.

  “Great,” he said. “I’m going out hunting with an empath, a fight club champion, a crazy tiger, and my girlfriend. We can’t lose.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Tiger was a frigging genius with automobile engines, so the truck, while outwardly ratty, ran with a purr. Spike drove, and Tiger and Seamus sat in the bed. The cab was technically too small for Spike, Joanne, and Broderick together, but Broderick squeezed in, not wanting Joanne riding in the cab without him.

  Not that Spike was a threat—the man was happy with his mate, Myka, his cub, Jordan, and a cub on the way. Broderick simply didn’t want to take his eyes off Joanne. The last time she’d accompanied him on a mission, Broderick had nearly lost her. He damn well wasn’t going to let that happen again.

  Broderick recalled the smash-and-grab raid Walker had led on the bunker containing the un-Collared Shifters and Broderick’s gut-punching relief when he’d found Joanne curled up in a chair in the bunker, unhurt. Broderick had wanted to put her over his shoulder and haul her out of there immediately, but Joanne had dragged them to her sister, whom she’d found tending Aleck.

  Broderick had got all three of them out of there, miraculously. Okay, so maybe Walker and Rebecca had helped a little, but the point was, they’d made it out.

  Broderick slid closer to Joanne where she sat between him and Spike. Joanne glanced at him, and Broderick warmed when she put her hand on his thigh.

  Spike, unaware of or uncaring of Broderick’s messed up thoughts, drove them, at Joanne’s direction, to the highway where she’d picked up Broderick. This morning, the road lay quietly under a wide sky, the occasional car or truck rumbling past where they’d pulled over. Wildflowers dotted the side of the road, bluebonnets brushing the grasses.

  Broderick emerged from the truck, Joanne right behind him. Broderick stretched his back from the cramped ride. “That direction,” he said, pointing over empty land, tinged green and blue. “I came across the fields from the munitions plant. Anyone hear why that blew up?”

  Seamus had slid out of the truck and now lounged against it. “Bree was listening to the news this morning. She says they don’t know what happened, but suspect a fire in one of the labs. There were some injuries, but no one was killed, fortunately.”

  Which meant that the guard Broderick had dragged toward the ambulance hadn’t died either. He paused a moment to express thanks to the Goddess. Those men, just doing their jobs, hadn’t deserved such a fate.

  “Can you be more specific?” Spike asked Broderick, his gaze on the empty fields. “That’s a hell of a lot of space to explore.”

  “That way.” Tiger had climbed out behind Seamus, and now he pointed with a blunt finger to the southwest.

  “Yeah?” Spike asked in irritation. “How do I go that way?”

  Tiger shrugged, the big man rippling muscle. “There must be roads.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Joanne had her phone out, manipulating the screen with her fingers. Broderick looked over her shoulder at the map she brought up.

  “This is where we are,” she said, pointing to two white streaks of roads that crossed. “The munitions plant is there.” She swiped the screen to show a lone building. “Go around that way to get to it.” Joanne indicated a grid.

  Spike glanced at the map, as mystified as Broderick. “You navigate,” Spike said to Joanne. “Just tell me where to turn.”

  They piled back into the truck, Joanne keeping an eye on her phone. Following her directions, Spike reached the munitions plant, which involved miles on a series of dirt roads.

  Spike stopped when the plant was in sight, but far enough away that they’d not be spotted by guards. The place was still surrounded by emergency vehicles and too many cops for Broderick’s taste. The police would have to investigate, of course. A factory that made bullets and explosives blowing up might mean bad luck or it might mean an outside enemy was trying to destroy it.

  Spike drummed his fingers o
n the wheel. “All right, so how’d you end up here?”

  Broderick got out and looked around. He’d been heading east, the setting moon at his back, when he made it to the plant, but east covered a lot of area. He didn’t pick up any scent of himself, so he hadn’t come out at this spot. The others waited, saying nothing, but Broderick sensed their growing impatience.

  What did they expect him to do—shift to wolf and sniff himself out in these miles of nothing? The swath of dried grasses, touched with green, spread to the horizon. The sky was endless today, a soft blue that dwarfed the Shifters, the factory, the land, and the battered pickup.

  “Kind of that way,” Broderick said, fluttering his fingers.

  Tiger walked around the truck, and around it again in a widening circle. He scanned the ground, land, horizon, his golden eyes taking in everything.

  Tiger finally stopped and pointed toward a field that looked like all other fields. “There.”

  Broderick stepped to him, sighting down Tiger’s arm. “How the hell do you know that?”

  Tiger glanced at him, his big-cat eyes in his hard face steady and sure. “I just do.”

  Joanne came up on Tiger’s other side. “I hear a lot about your famous tracking ability,” she said, interested. “What exactly do you see? Or smell? How can you pick up a trail so far out?”

  “I’d like to know that too,” Seamus put in, his Scottish accent soft music in the dry air. “Tiger tracked me through the city, when I was in a car.”

  Tiger gave Seamus an expressionless look. “I tracked you to the car, and the car through the city. It was old, the engine falling apart, and had a distinctive smell.”

  Seamus exchanged a glance with Broderick. Broderick had been on that mission to track down Seamus, and Broderick still didn’t know how Tiger had found him.

  Joanne shot Tiger a grin. “Are you saying Broderick has a distinctive smell?”

  “Yes.” Tiger returned his gaze to the horizon. “And I see …” He rested three fingers on the side of his head. “Coordinates. Numbers that correlate to the scent. The numbers tell me exactly where to go.”