Tempest narrowed her eyes. He actually seemed genuine, but something felt off. Then she heard the noise behind her. “What the fuck? You brought company. You’re trying to rip me off, Goddamnit.” She kept her aim steady, seeing down the barrel of both guns at the two targets.
“Put the guns down, Tempest.”
“No.” The noise behind her rattled louder and she heard the door opening.
Then she heard more gunshots.
Before she could turn her attention back to Jonas, he’d run up on her, slammed her back against the wall and held both her hands above her head, guns clamped between their fingers.
With him so close, she couldn’t think straight. Staring at his perfect features did little to distract her mentally.
Her body noticed just now close he was. “Are you aroused? You fucking pervert!”
He cocked his head and a smile spread across his lips. “I might be. But not from the gun play. I rather find that distasteful.”
“Then why are you aroused?”
“You’re a beautiful woman. Just need one thing from you.”
She struggled against his grip but found the exertion of energy useless with the way he had her pinned against the wall.
She couldn’t even get a knee up to nail him in the junk.
“My club needs those bikes. I need one thing from you.”
“If this is how you get girls, you’re shit out of luck and you’re a sick son of a bitch.”
“My useless mother is dead, yes. But no, that’s not what I need.” The last word came out almost like a whisper across her ear when he lowered his mouth against her flesh. “I want to know if you know how to cure diseases.”
“Eww. What the fuck man?” She struggled harder against him but his grip on her was too strong. “If you’ve got something, get away from me. I don’t need—”
He sealed his mouth over hers and her eyes widened.
To her chagrin, she found herself molding to the kiss, her mouth opening up against his while her hands relaxed and the guns fell to the floor with a loud clang.
His body pressed against hers felt good, felt right, despite the annoying circumstances.
Fucker.
The way his hips pushed into hers only made her knees go weak and some part of her head raged at the alarm bells sounding off as she remembered she was being robbed.
Tempest tried to bite Jonas but he’d pulled back and held her against the wall with the brunt of his body. “I’m fine. I need your blood for my—”
The door opened and Cristin stuck his head in, worry etched into his face. “Jonas, get out, brother. Company. Have to do this another day!”
Gunshots echoed outside and Jonas suddenly released her, plucked one of the guns out of her hand, and went for the exit. “Stay here.”
“Over my dead body.”
“My brothers won’t let that happen if you give me what I want.”
She snorted. “What the fuck do you think I am?”
“A Faery who knows more about your magic than the undead. I need your blood.”
She shook her head. “You’re fucking ridiculous if you think—”
He’d exited the truck and slammed the door shut before she finished her sentence. She forgot. He moved faster than she ever could, him being a full-blooded vampire.
Damnit.
Picking up the other gun, she made her way to the driver’s seat and found the keys to the truck still in the ignition.
What had she been thinking, leaving them there?
Oh, right. Vampire bullshit.
She reached for the key and started to turn it but found Jonas in front of the truck slamming some ugly being that looked even more hideous than the imps that attacked her earlier into the grill.
Then Jonas’ form changed and he grew in height by a few inches, his hair lengthened and fangs came out. Hands grew large claws and he shoved his hand forward. Nothing would be mistaken for the sound of wet liquid flesh gliding over razor sharp claws.
She couldn’t shift.
Another two creatures surrounded Jonas.
Rolling down her window, she took aim, pondering a shot at the vampire first.
Shaking her head, she corrected and pulled the trigger, popping one of the heinous creatures in the head before it went down in a screaming mess of blood and dark goop splatter.
She popped off two more shots at another approaching target that aimed for Jonas with long claws and leathery wings.
Catching it in the chest, the body jerked but continued lunging forward.
She fired off another round and caught the ugly beast in the head.
Jonas spun around, tossing another carcass into the air.
She rolled her window back up, started the engine and put the truck in gear.
Jonas shook his head no but she wasn’t about to listen to a vampire.
Especially one that caught her off guard, accosted her, and then kissed her, using some cheap line about needing her blood to cure some disease.
Cry her a fucking river.
The sound of motorcycles blaring up behind her told her she needed to hightail it out of here.
If Jonas was part of an MC, where was his bike? Why was he still fighting?
Damnit.
The other vampires signaled to him and began to shift into ravens before her eyes. Taking flight, they hit the skies, all but one.
Jonas had an ally, but he and his thieving friend were surrounded by a group of…what the fuck were those?
Phouka?
No fucking way. They were out too?
And wouldn’t you know it, Jonas and his friend were outnumbered.
Sighing heavily, Tempest popped the clip out, replaced it with a full one and chambered a round.
Opening her door, she jumped out. “Hey boys. You forgot something.”
Some of the phouka turned around, setting malevolent golden eyes on her. Hideous, dark creatures, they loomed large over her as they approached.
She fired off two rounds, caught one between the eyes.
It screeched, grabbed its head and fell down.
She fired a third round into the top of its skull.
Yeah, even the Fae weren’t immune to magically enhanced bullets.
The one to her left started for her but a voice boomed out over the air and the creatures all stopped.
“Halt. Leave them be. They have been handled now.”
Jonas, his partner, and Tempest all turned to see a tall, lanky male dressed in leather from head to toe approaching. His leather patches didn’t look like the ones Jonas and his partner wore.
Different MC?
Great. What else was going to come up that she had no idea about in Faery?
The bike he straddled hummed low and when he slid off it, he set his hands on his hips.
His features were mostly hidden by long, wispy dark hair that covered his eyes.
Yet she saw those bright red orbs glow. Pointed ears thrust up through the mess of hair. Brown skin looked gaunt. Elongated fingers pointed at Jonas and his friend. “You two. And,” he turned toward Tempest, “You. Disarm yourselves and come forward.”
“Nuh uh. Don’t think so pal. I’m here on orders.” She pointed her gun at him.
Mr. tall, gaunt, and ugly lifted his chin. “I am the orders, half-breed.”
She gritted her teeth.
“Lest you want to deal with the rest of my brothers. Or our alliance with the Phouka.”
“These fools yours, Jonas? Ass.”
Jonas lifted his hands defensively. He spun around and slapped the back of his leather vest. “Do we look like we’re the same patch? Never seen these assholes.” He turned toward the Sluagh. “As for you, you’re messing with the wrong MC, buddy.”
“I’m not your buddy. And your MC has left you two behind. I’d say that’s some loyalty.”
Ouch.
Whatever the beef was between these two males, Tempest didn’t want any part of it. “Look, you two biker bitches c
an have your little fight, but I have to get my cargo to its destination. Queen’s orders.”
Two more of the Sluagh showed up beside the loudmouthed fuck, both having as much bulk as the first one, and wearing equally as much leather. Except they weren’t as human looking as their leader appeared to be. Both had more bat-like features, complete with the pointed ears and furry faces.
“Come on, Cristin. Want to dance with these fools?”
“No, you idiots! These are the Sluagh. You don’t have a chance.” Why had she opened her mouth? If Jonas, who wanted to rob her of her cargo, wanted to put his sorry ass on the line and get killed, that was his beef.
“Shit. The lady is right, Jonas.”
“Brother, you know better. We don’t back down.”
The one Jonas called Cristin nodded. “Indeed, we have let our human natures come back with the idea of pride and ego. Shall we?”
“We shall.” Jonas and Cristin moved forward.
Tempest steadied herself, her body tensing for a fight she knew she’d probably lose, but backing up this idiot vampire and his friend, to protect her cargo, was a smart move.
A fist to Jonas’ face quickly pissed her off.
He was hers to abuse. “I owe that fucker an ass whopping, not you.” Charging forward, Tempest stuck the barrel of the gun right up to the one who punched Jonas and pulled the trigger. The explosion of blood, skull and brains splattered everywhere and the echo of the blast made her eardrums ache.
The beast fell lifeless to the ground with a loud thump.
She spun around and pointed the gun at the second Sluagh but found her arm caught and squeezed. Before she could pull the trigger, the gun had been ripped from her hand and tossed aside before she was slammed against the grill of her own truck hard enough to jolt her and make her see stars.
Jonas and Cristin soon joined her, shoved in the same careless manner.
“Some fighters you are.” The leader of the MC chortled.
Jonas shook his head, spat blood. His recovery time matched hers and before she knew it, she’d been looking at the Sluagh, then at the sky.
Tempest heard something crunch and then she saw nothingness as consciousness slipped away.
When consciousness kicked Jonas in the side of the head, he opened his eyes and felt his skull throbbing. It took a few seconds but his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. Where the fuck was he, anyway?
He blinked, looked beside him, heard a low groan and saw Tempest slouched along the same wall as himself.
The tinge of iron mixed with the familiar smell of motor oil and rubber. When he lifted his arm to stretch, he bumped something metal. Looking up, he spotted the motorcycles.
Jackpot.
That explained the cramped space.
To his left Cristin sat, slumped against the wall with his head lolled to one side. Blood dripped from his lip but his life signal seemed present so Jonas returned his attention to Tempest. Slowly, he lifted a hand, touched her shoulder, felt just how soft she was compared to the hard-bodied muscle of his brothers and himself.
Just the contact stirred something primal.
Moving her hair from her face, he brushed his knuckles over her cheek.
She jerked away and her eyes widened. “What the hell?”
“Shh.” Retracting one hand, he brought two fingers to his lips. The hum of an engine echoed loudly and the vehicle they were in, her truck, jostled them to and fro as it moved down the highway. “We lost the fight.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” She doubled over, brought a hand to her ribs and winced.
“You’ll heal. With half your blood, you should heal quickly. Slower than us, but you’ll be fine.” He kept his voice to a whisper but when he met her stare, he felt daggers piercing him. “Hey, look, we’re still alive.”
“Half of me is. You’re dead.”
He snorted at her dry tone. “Technically I’m undead.”
“Not cute. What the hell happened?”
“We lost the fight, mate.”
Both of them turned toward Cristin, his own voice raspy.
“Our MC was trying to get out of there since we were outnumbered but because my boy here,” he patted Jonas on the shoulder, “had the bright idea of staying to defend all of these—Holy shit are those what I think they are?”
Jonas glanced toward the cargo and saw two racks on the sides of the trucks, with ten motorcycles secured on either side of the truck. “Yup. The very cargo.”
“This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t trying to steal my cargo. I told you as I told your buddies—”
Jonas held up a hand, cutting her off. “Those were not our buddies. Different MC. Not Undead Souls.”
“Nope.” Cristin straightened a leg, stretching his hands before him. “Not ours. Those were Sluagh. We wouldn’t ever think of working with them.”
Tempest’s glare turned hotter, as if that were possible. If he were human, Jonas knew he’d have flushed cheeks by now.
“Either way, these bikes belong to the Queen and the motorcycle club of her choosing, not some bunch of damn vampire thieves—”
Jonas held up his hand again. “We prefer to be called outlaws and I told you. I had a good reason for needing these bikes. At least one of them.”
“Skip it. You already lied to me once. I won’t forget that.”
“Sure you will. You think I’m cute. Besides, it wasn’t a lie.”
“Jonas, what on all that is unholy—”
Jonas glared at Cristin.
The other vampire nodded and relaxed against the wall of the truck.
Message received.
“You’re a bastard.”
“Had that talk with you too, darlin’. I told you, and I was speaking truth to you. I know better than to attempt to lie to the Fae since you all are so fond of word games and clever trappings.”
“So, what was that ruse about needing something from me? Blood or some shit for a disease?”
He didn’t want to have this conversation in front of Cristin. Not that the other vampire wasn’t aware, but he didn’t need to know the intimate details or the reasons behind Jonas’ guilt. Not even Tempest needed that. “I heard from a wise woman who has more years than even I can count that the blood of a Fae will be able to stop my sister’s death.”
Concern crossed her eyes before she blinked the emotion away. “You can get that anywhere. You’re in Faery. Look around. I’m sure with your dirty tricks you can easily manipulate someone into being a willing victim for this farce you’re attempting to lay on me. Then you just go back to the Shadowlands and never return.”
He sighed. “Alas, no. First, it needs to be that of a female. Second, did you ever think that maybe we’re stuck here?”
Cristin made a noise.
Jonas waved a hand behind him but kept his eyes on Tempest. “We cannot cross the barriers into other realms. Not even Earth, hence why we needed to borrow the bikes.”
“You cannot borrow what belongs to the Queen.”
“Alas, I know. Hence why a heist was planned. We…do not seek to spend a fourth year in Faery.”
“Too much pride?”
He glowered. “Have you no longing for home? We were—” The truck stopped.
All three heads turned toward the back doors. Jonas then looked at Tempest. “Can you stand?”
She nodded.
“Cristin?” Jonas got to one knee and listened.
Slowly, Cristin rose to his full height. “Right with you, brother.”
“Good.” Jonas stood, then offered a hand to Tempest. “We need to make it out of here alive and figure out how to defeat such a powerful enemy.”
She hauled herself up with his help, annoyance clearly written all over her face. “The Sluagh require a sacrifice. You’ve been here how fucking long?”
Jonas smirked. “What sort of sacrifice?”
“They want souls.”
“Well two of us are damned so we’re safe. You’re one of them.”
She shook her head. “Won’t work. And besides, I’m not sacrificing shit for anyone but myself. They want the souls of living, of the weak. The Wild Hunt is near. They will not only kill us but go on a spree roaming the lands until they find either sinners or weak souls to join their army.”
“But they’re bikers….” The dread filling her voice made him reconsider his next statement.
“Apparently this version of the Wild Hunt rides. You’re new here.”
Jonas shrugged. “We are vampires. Our culture has kept to itself in our homelands, and our club has kept to itself here until we managed to discover the magic in those bikes.”
“Well, what the hell are we going to do?”
Rustling outside, along with the clanging of metal caught his attention. He crouched low beside Cristin.
“We’re not going to get out of this alive.”
Jonas waved at her, cutting off any further communication. He wouldn’t let the Sluagh take his prize from him or the club. Nor would he let them harm Tempest if he could prevent it. Vampire yes, but he was still a man.
The sound of boots crunching gravel stopped just before the doors.
“Can you shift?”
Tempest looked down at her sides. “No. Shit, guns are up front.”
“Guns?”
“Yeah. What I used to shoot at the asshats who attacked you and him earlier. And what I would have killed you with. The bullets are charged with enough magic to stop most magical creatures.”
“Even the Sluagh? Great.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“I’ve never had to deal with the Sluagh before, blood sucker. I was expecting vampire trouble and maybe some low-level faery punks because of the cargo. Not soul sucking Sluagh.”
“Shit.” His heart started beating again and his nerves grew agitated. Sounds heightened. Jonas leaned closer to Tempest, smelling her scent through the metal and rubber of the motorcycles. Sweet, almost vanilla with hints of jasmine, her aroma imprinted itself on his mind and he had to remind himself that now was not the time. “Look, go all the way to the front of the truck, hide.” He turned to Cristin. “Bat. Now. Follow me.”
The lock on the doors jangled, then he felt the jolt of the lock being jerked off the door before the chain clanged against the handles.
20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection Page 132