Monsters, Book One: The Good, The Bad, The Cursed

by Heather Killough-Walden

  “Ladies, this is Jacob Crow, a guy I… work with.” She realized at once that since they were both wardens, the working together thing could get messy if she didn’t snow over it fast. Neither of her friends were aware of her real occupation. They were certain she worked as a job coordinator in a corporate firm downtown, on the fortieth floor of a sky scraper that made her a number, a cog in the machine, and nothing particularly special.

  “Jake, this is Elena Garcia, and this is Cassiana Honeywell. They’ve been close friends of mine since middle school.” Focusing on her friendship helped calm her down a little. Her friends meant everything to her. And now she was able to stand on her own two feet without feeling she was going to faint, at least.

  Jake played his part to charming perfection, flashing her friends a drop-dead killer smile. He lowered his cup to nod amiably in their directions. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, sounding for all the world like he actually meant it. “Any friend of Angel’s.”

  Cass and Elena were wide-eyed. They looked from him, to whom they frankly beamed at, to Angel, whom she knew they were going to probe relentlessly for information once Jake left.

  At the thought of him leaving, Angel knee-jerked and acted fast. “Jake, got a few minutes to spare?” she said, turning to him. “I mean… you’re welcome to join us.” She gestured to the one free chair at the table. It was right beside her. She hadn’t even meant for that to happen. Fate was messing with her.

  She cleared her throat and explained. “It’s Cass’s birthday today, so we’re celebrating with coffee and cake pops. We have more than enough to share.”

  Her friends readily agreed and asked him to join them as Angel gestured to the pile of café food at the center of the table. She wasn’t the only one who wanted his company.

  Somewhere out there in the great beyond, the Storyteller must have been laughing like mad writing Angel’s scene tonight.

  Chapter Seven

  Jake could read every single thought moving through Angel’s mind. She’d unintentionally left it wide open for him in neglecting to raise wards or shields tonight. That was how he’d found her in the first place. He was almost angry with her for being so vulnerable, but when he stopped to think about it, he realized he was actually angry with himself for so shamelessly taking advantage.

  And he really was taking advantage, too.

  Once or twice during the course of their working together, she’d come to work without those shields up, either too exhausted or too out of magic to bother with them. Clearly she’d been convinced by that time that everyone she was working with was human, and she no longer needed to worry anyway.

  But even during those times, he hadn’t managed to get much past her surface intentions. Now he knew why. Her inherent magic had kept him at bay, though he hadn’t realized it at the time. He’d simply had to be satisfied with the fact that she could keep him out – for some reason. After all, Jake had to be careful, especially when surrounded by other wardens. If he’d pushed too much or pried too far, one of them might have noticed, if not Angel herself. That would mean trouble.

  But right now, she was with friends, she was off the clock, and Jake could also tell she was tired, which made her extra easy to read. Not even the magic in her veins was strong enough right now to protect her. She was an open book.

  It was a damn good book, too.

  For the last two weeks, while David had been tracking down or hacking information on Angela Clemens and Jake had been working with her and the other three on the sovereign case, Jake had fallen harder for Angel every day.

  Each time he met up with her, he lost a little bit of himself. In her small, strong form, he saw something ephemeral, something he couldn’t quite grasp. Being with her would be like holding on to fog or fire. He would hold something beautiful and mysterious, something fleeting and ever-changing, and something wholly dangerous. And he wanted to hold her so badly, it was all he could do to make it to the end of the day without breaking about twenty different laws, moral and otherwise.

  As they worked, he found himself using any excuse to get closer to her. To touch her. He watched the flush of blood to her cheeks when she met his gaze or when they accidentally brushed against each other, and it gave him hope. He memorized the sound of her voice, the angle of her jaw, the way her hair always fell in wisps around her face when she tried to put it in a ponytail. As if that hair wanted to touch her face as much as he did.

  He’d been forced to feed every night after their meetings. Normally he broke down every two weeks or so, and had even gone months before. But Angel had awakened something inside him, something he wasn’t proud of: Hunger.

  He left his victims alive, naturally. It was only newly turned vampires or fanged psychopaths who lost control while feeding. When he was finished taking what he needed, he made sure his unwitting donor had stopped bleeding, was of sound health, and possessed no memories of his encounter. He hadn’t been quite mad enough with need for Angel to be pushed to the point of violence with any of them, despite his cursed nature.

  But now that he was so close to her and she was defenseless in every possible way and there were no other wardens around for miles…. Well, she was under his skin like a terrible itch.

  But he played nice. He was good at that. Being a warden meant learning to play the game from time to time, and a big part of that game was social interaction with civilians. But hell, Angel’s thoughts actually sounded in his mind as if she were whispering them in his ear. She was not only strong physically, her will was impressive. He wasn’t going easy on her with the vampire influence he radiated tonight, and yet she managed to actually ignore him for a short while in favor of supporting her friend.

  That kindness, that righteous tenderness she showed for others was so stunning, it made him dizzy with desire. And if he’d had any doubts before concerning whether she reciprocated that desire, those doubts were pummeled to death now.

  She wanted him. She was thinking about him. And he could hear her little heart beating painfully fast.

  For Jake, this was like tossing gasoline on a fire. It was a green light and a waved checkered flag, and it was everything he could do not to take her by the wrist, drag her out of the shop, and throw her up against the alley wall to have his way with her.

  At the same time, her heart was going so fast, he wanted to use magic to calm it down. It had this strange, unsolicited and unwanted effect on him, the need to lay claim to her tempered by the need to protect her. Even from herself. And especially from him.

  “I’ve always got a few minutes for charming company,” Jake said, flashing a practiced smile at Angel and her friends as he grabbed the seat, spun it around, and sat down, draping both strong arms over the back of the chair. “Happy birthday, Cassiana,” he added with a wink.

  He could hear Angel’s friends’ hearts too, and he wasn’t surprised at all when they both sped up as well. It might have been cocky, but he was well aware women found him attractive. Before the war, it had been real trouble. But after being cursed, that attraction changed, intensified. It slid dangerously up a notch, making a sound like a cocking gun.

  Unless he was drunk and really just wanted to work off some steam, his effect on women actually irritated him a little. He was a vampire; he was playing with a stacked deck, and at times it even felt like this curse of his made a mockery of women. He would sometimes remember his mother and how formidable and bold she’d always been. At those times, he hated himself a little. Women deserved better.

  But right now?

  Jake glanced at Angel to see her looking steadfastly down into her coffee cup, her cheeks flushed beautifully. Right now, he couldn’t have cared less about playing fair. He would take and use every weapon in his arsenal if it meant gaining ground with her.

  If he wasn’t careful, he would push too hard, go too fast. To take his mind off his target, Jake forced himself to pull out of her thoughts and scan those of her friends. Elena and Cassiana…. They were int
eresting, complex women, if his first impression was any good.

  Elena Garcia considered herself wild. He didn’t even have to read her mind to know that much. It was clear from her confident posture, the slightly suggestive curve of her smile, and was amplified by the way she dressed. She sat a certain way in her seat, as if she owned it and was perhaps hoping someone would dare try taking it from her. She had the hands of a warden, that is to say, her nails were short and un-manicured and she had a few callouses. The thumb pad of her right hand and the fingertips of her left were roughened and a little thicker, indicating she played guitar. He was betting it was electric.

  In her thoughts, he read a love of the night – interesting – motorcycles – also interesting – and bad boys. Very interesting. But what impressed him most was what was hidden beneath the tough girl exterior. It was something he found alone in a shadowed corner of her mind. She was uncertain. And a little sad.

  Jake took note of that and moved on to Cassiana Honeywell. As if in complete contrast to her friend Elena, Cass appeared reserved, and even demure. Her countenance was careful, from head to toe. Her nails were manicured, though they were painted black and they were still short, and her hair was well cared for. He smelled expensive shampoo.

  Though her clothing was understated, consisting of jeans and a T-shirt, gray cardigan and boots, Jake recognized that every item was designer. And although it was the only jewelry she wore, she sported a very expensive 18k pendant of a serpentine dragon with sapphires for eyes. The dragon was really what was known as an Ouroboros, a serpent that swallowed its own tail and was always represented in a circle.

  Jake almost smiled thinking of the supes that could be held at bay with that pendant. Gold was caustic to many dangerous creatures, and the more pure the gold, the more powerful the warding. This one here? He’d pin a five figure price tag to it easy.

  So when he dove into her head, he was expecting thoughts about work or taxes, or perhaps worries for her child or children.

  He was shocked as hell to find something else entirely.

  Cassiana Honeywell was a dark horse; not even her two best friends were privy to the truth hidden behind those luminous eyes.

  Jake blinked, and felt his own eyes go a little wide. But Cass and her companions were sure to notice the change in his demeanor, especially Angel the warden trained in noticing details, so he tamped his reaction and took another drink of his coffee to get himself back in line.

  Elena helped him out when she leaned forward and asked, “Was that your cruiser I heard pulling up earlier?”

  Jake smiled and nodded, figuring she’d pinned him as the rider by what he wore.

  Elena smiled back, pleased with herself. “I’m guessing by the sound of it, it’s an older Ironhead?”

  An “Ironhead” was what people called Harley Davidson Sportster models from the late fifties to mid-eighties. And she was right. It wasn’t his only bike. It wasn’t even his only Harley. Hell, it wasn’t even his only Ironhead. Like every member of the Monsters, he had several bikes, for various reasons. That was one of the many ways they differed greatly from other MC’s. But the bike in the lot happened to be one of his favorites, a ‘71 X Super Glide.

  He nodded. “And I’m guessing that’s your crotch rocket out there?” he asked. He knew it wasn’t Angel’s. She didn’t ride. And Elena loved bikes.

  Elena beamed, and to his left, Angel’s heart rate kicked up a notch. Whether it was due to their talk of motorcycles and the unpleasant memories she no doubt tied to them, or the fact that Elena was outwardly flirting with him, he wasn’t sure. He hoped it was the latter.

  “Yeah, the Ducati’s mine,” she admitted happily. “Just got it last year.” But her smile slipped a little. He brushed her mind out of curiosity to hear her mentally add, Because my Ninja was fucking stolen and I swear to the gods when I find the son of a bitch poser who took it, I’m gonna….

  He pulled out again and hid his smile just as the phone in his pocket vibrated. He put down his drink, pulled out the phone, and glanced down at the name. It was from Cain, and it was priority one. Something big had just gone down. It was all hands on deck.

  He re-pocketed the phone, glancing at Angel. She was looking down at the table, trying not to watch him. But from her expression, it was clear she understood the message had been for a warden job. It was rare for different warden clans to be called in on the same situation – rather like going fed for the cops. But priority ones were another matter, and Jake was betting Angel would soon receive a message too.

  They’d be working on the same case again.

  With that to look forward to despite the danger, Jake stood up. “Forgive me ladies, but you’ll have to excuse me. Something just came up and I’ve got to head out.” He gave them another winning smile, allowed some of his magic to accompany it so they wouldn’t bombard Angel with too many questions when he was gone, and said, “It was good meeting you both.” He turned to Cass specifically and added, “Happy birthday, again. I hope you get what you’re wishing for.”

  Something flashed in the depths of Cassiana’s hazel eyes, there and gone so fast most people wouldn’t notice it. But he did. It was unconscious to her, just as was the secret he’d found hidden in her mind. He wondered if it would ever come to light.

  He turned one last time to Angel and caught her eyes with his. She read the look on his face. She had to wrap things up fast with her friends, because a call might come through any second.

  He left the three of them there at that table and exited the coffee shop. The San Francisco fog wrapped around him as he made his way to his bike and turned his senses to the night. He had to admit he felt good. Really good. Better than he had in a long time.

  The girl of his dreams was into him almost as much as he was her.

  He smiled to himself like an idiot as he mounted his bike and started it up, pulling out of the lot to the sound of a beast that ate up the ground with an appetite mirroring his own.

  Chapter Eight

  The second Jake left through the coffee shop door, Elena was leaning over the table and addressing Angel. “Damn, girl! Why didn’t you tell me you got to work in an office with a man like that? I’m switching jobs!”

  Angel tried to shrug it off, but her body was still humming from the intensity of his proximity. It was going to take her a few minutes to come down off that high.

  Cass shook her head and lifted her coffee to her lips. Before she drank, she said, “Angela Clemens, if you don’t tap that, I will disinherit you as my friend.” She took a sip and winced, making a displeased face. “Damn. It’s cold.” She unhappily plonked the cup back down and leaned forward like Elena. “Angel, do it for me if for no other reason. As my birthday present. Let me live vicariously through you. It’s obvious you like him.”

  Elena snickered. “You almost fell down when you stood up! And….” She smiled lasciviously. “I could see the way he looked at you.” She shook her head. “That was smoldering, seriously.”

  Angel lifted her hands as a sign of resignation. “Okay, that’s enough. It’s more complicated than you think. And inter-office relationships are messy.”

  “Marriage is messier,” said Cass. “And that’s actually encouraged.”

  Angel and Elena looked at her, but she wasn’t frowning any longer. She seemed dreamy-eyed instead.

  Angel glanced at the door, thinking. She was a little scared. Jake was hot. But what she was telling her friends was also true; dating someone you worked with was never clear cut. Dating a warden? Especially when you were one yourself? It was frowned on for a reason. To make matters worse, Jacob Crow never stayed in one place. And then there were the Monsters to consider. Motorcycle clubs were tight, and his was probably the tightest. She knew damn well how too many male bikers viewed women. They saw them as baggage. Women were nothing more than ass and tits. They were disposable and replaceable.

  That attitude was bad enough. Never mind the actual motorcycles the bikers rode. Ther
e were too many memories there for Angel. She mentally shook her head. No. She wasn’t stupid. Going for it with Jake was out of the question.

  A chill moved through her suddenly, and she closed her eyes, experiencing a loss of hope. If Cassiana, who any man would probably have given his right nut to screw like mad, was luck-sucking at passion and romance this bad, what hope in the nine circles did Angel have? She was only a few years behind her in age. Would she ever find love again?

  Angel…

  Angel’s body tensed. Her brow furrowed. She turned in her seat and looked around. Had someone said her name? The coffee shop was settled, and no one was watching her.

  She could have sworn, though… and it was a man’s voice, too. But Jake was long gone; they’d all heard his bike tear out. Plus, she could always sense when he was near, and he wasn’t right now.

  Elena and Cass failed to notice anything out of the ordinary. They continued talking as if she hadn’t just looked around nervously. Across from Angel, Elena moved a little on her seat before leaning back and flicking a long lock of black hair over her shoulder. “See, this is what I love about Matt,” she said. “The man is the opposite of safe, but I’m well aware of that, and it’s okay with me. We’re not co-dependent, and I certainly didn’t hook up with him because I was scared not to. Hell, I was far more scared to be with him than without him.”

  That caught Angel’s attention. She gave Elena a side-long glance. “He runs a gang for crying out loud. Maybe not the best comparison.”

  Elena shrugged again, but her smile was sly. “No, it is. Because Matt’s all fire. But the nice thing about that is that there are never any lulls in our relationship. I get mad, he gets mad right back, but he’s so used to being in control and in command, he never yells at me or screams at me, never breaks anything or makes me feel small. Instead, we settle our differences in the bedroom. No silent treatments. No secrets. No under-handed passive aggressiveness. Just plain aggressiveness.” She leaned forward again and looked Angel right in the eyes. “Now you tell me which one you’d rather have. A man who plays games with your mind? Or a man who plays games with your body?”