BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset)

by Parker, Kylee

  “What about other animals?”

  “Larger animals, and as far as I know they must be mammals like us.” He turned and looked at her. “You know, warm blooded. And it can’t be anything ridiculous like a house cat or a rodent. It has to be larger like a bear or wolf.”

  “A tiger is pretty big, Niall.”

  “So is a bear.”

  Sinclair shrugged. “True.”

  The main question on Niall’s mind rolled from his lips far more prematurely than he wanted. His body leaned over her; another gesture he would have prevented, had he not been focused on only one concern.

  “Do I disgust you now, Sinclair?”

  Sinclair lifted her eyes to his. She drew in a sharp breath when she saw the sudden and powerful sadness there. There was something else: desperation.

  “At first I was frightened, then I was just angry, but I was never disgusted.”

  “Are you still frightened? Are you still angry?”

  “Yes.”

  Niall straightened. “Fair enough.” He took a pillow from the bed and turned to leave.

  “Where are you going to sleep?”

  Niall shrugged but didn’t turn back to her. “It wouldn’t be the first time I slept in a chair, or on the floor.” He hesitated, but Sinclair said nothing to stop him from leaving.

  Sinclair rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time. The air in the bedroom was sticky, then drafty even though it was supposedly controlled by a heat and A/C unit attached just below the window. The high ceilings had seemed gothic and beautiful upon first sight, but now Sinclair worried about smoke men hovering in every dark corner. She worried about Niall sleeping on a floor.

  Sinclair sat up when the high pitched squall of sirens sounded from somewhere in the city which never seemed to completely sleep. She ran a hand over her chest and fought the urge to fight for breath. Why was she so nervous? There were the obvious reasons, but none of them explained what was happening at the moment.

  Sinclair strained her eyes against the darkness. Light from the street below penetrated the edges of the drapes. The light was opaque and misty, touching the recesses of her mind with mystery and anticipation. Sinclair’s stomach clenched, her pulse thundering in her ears.

  “Hello?” She called out quietly. She swiveled her head towards the left corner of the room; the space between the bathroom and the door leading out to the sitting room. The darkness shifted and lifted as if a figure had been crouched, but was rising slowly to their feet.

  Sinclair’s eyes grew large as the figure stepped into the opaque light. She couldn’t make out features, but it was definitely male, with broad shoulders and long limbs.

  “Niall?” She breathed.

  “No.” The figure spoke in a languid, nearly bored manner. “It is not.”

  Sinclair scrambled across the bed until her hand touched one of the wall mounted lamps on either side of the bed. The light came on, bouncing slightly as it hit the wall, before moving on its extendable arm. Sinclair stared wide eyed at the man standing before her. He was indeed tall, taller than Niall by a good two inches, broad across the shoulder and had reddish hair coming down the side of his face that ended just above the jaw bone. His long hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail.

  “Who…”

  “Am I?” He finished with a snicker.

  Sinclair nodded, her eyes flicking quickly around the room, attempting to find a weapon. Her best weapon was asleep in the living room. She had only parted her lips when the man was on her, a hand clamped over her mouth like a vice.

  “Shhh. Don’t wake the Tiger.” He removed his hand, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

  “Why do you say that? Why do you say tiger?”

  Again the snicker. “Because that’s what you have in the other room, right? A tiger and a half mad little dog, yes?”

  Sinclair narrowed her eyes, indignation overshadowing her fear. “Don’t talk about Gabriel like that! He’s just a little boy!”

  The man straightened, an amused smile playing on his thin lips. “Ah, you’re a little bit of a firecracker.”

  Sinclair watched him move about the room, looking at the crown molding and fingering the drapes open. He looked about like every tiny detail of the room was fascinating and meant for scrutiny and deep study.

  “What do you want?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  He turned and looked at her. “Why are you here?”

  Sinclair’s eyebrows drew down, her mouth puckered. My God, he’s mad.

  “What are you talking about?” She crawled from the bed, ignoring the tilt to his head as he looked at her from head to toe. “You need to leave right now, or I’ll call the police!”

  He laughed with his head thrown back. If that didn’t wake Niall nothing would. A moment of panic constricted her throat. What if he had already killed Niall?

  “You know, my preferences usually run closer to skinny, but you are quite a treat. Maybe a little meat on the bones is a good thing, yes?”

  Sinclair looked down at herself and immediately crossed her arms over her chest. If she had known that a strange man would invade the bedroom she would have worn a bra to bed at the very least.

  Sinclair made a dash for the door, but a strong hand gripped her in the meat of her upper arm, tossing her back to the bed easily. Tears sprung to her eyes.

  “What do you want?” She whispered.

  “I believe the same thing you and the tiger want. Joseph Overman.”

  “We don’t know where he is.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Sinclair licked her lips. “Do you work for Angela?”

  The skin near an eye twitched. “Work for isn’t a good way to put it. We help each other on occasion. Let’s just call it an uneasy association.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The witches and warlocks have a prejudice against my kind.” His eyes twinkled in dark humor. “Especially my kind.”

  “I don’t…”

  “Understand.” He finished. “Yes. Let me give you the Reader’s Digest version.” His eyes were steady on her. “Some years ago there was a war. Shifters and Vampires decided they could no longer live in Louisiana together.” He smiled and touched his hands to his chest. “I’m a byproduct of that war.”

  “You…” Sinclair struggled to figure out what he was trying to say, but she was almost certain she already knew. “You survived, and you knew about it, so obviously you fought on one or the other side.”

  The man sat beside her on the end of the bed. It was a comfortable movement, like they were just old friends visiting one another.

  “Tell me, do you know what an Alpha is?”

  “Well…” She began slowly. “An Alpha in wolf packs is like the head guy. He’s the wolf in charge.”

  The man made a gun shape with his hand, his forefinger pointing and his thumb was up. He winked and nodded.

  “Bingo. I was an Alpha.”

  Sinclair’s eyes grew wide. “You’re a shifter!”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you a tiger like Niall?”

  He laughed heartily again. “No. I’m a werewolf.” His gray eyes became dark. “At least I was. Now I’m just considered a freak.”

  “You can’t…can’t…shift anymore?”

  “Oh no, I can, but I’m tainted. An undead bit me in a battle. It was the last battle of our little war before both sides conceded a truce.” He ground his teeth until the sound made Sinclair shudder. “Now I’m the unholy half dead.”

  “You’re about to be the unholy full dead in a minute.”

  The man and Sinclair whipped their heads to the doorway of the bedroom. Niall was standing there with a pistol pointed at the man. A click sounded as he pulled the hammer back.

  The man stared at Niall from under hooded eyes, but it was Sinclair who spoke.

  “Niall, put the gun down! Angela sent him! And how did you get a gun on the plane anyway?”
/>
  “I don’t care if God himself sent him!” Niall’s face was full fury. “Get out.”

  “I can’t do that.” He crossed one leg over the other. “We have a shared interest.”

  “Sinclair and I will handle this on our own. We don’t need your kind of help.”

  The man sighed and looked at Sinclair. “See the bigotry?” He held his hand out. “I’m James Flynn.”

  Sinclair took his hand and gave it a strong shake. “Sinclair Mackenzie, and he’s Niall Amrit.”

  Niall tilted his head, the gun still raised, and grimaced at her like she was out of her mind.

  Sinclair shrugged. “I told you that Angela sent him!”

  Niall slowly lowered the gun, releasing the hammer. His eyes were hard on James. “Ever thought of just knocking?”

  “Not as interesting. Now, Sinclair sleeping was interesting.” James jutted his chin out as Niall half raised the gun again. “She sensed my presence and awoke as soon as I slipped in here. It nearly caused a panic attack, didn’t it sweetheart?”

  “Something like that.” Sinclair mumbled.

  “Angela said she was special.”

  Niall only grunted.

  James shook his head and laughed lightly. “You have yourself a real winner here, Sinclair.”

  “We aren’t together.” She said dryly, and looked at Niall defiantly.

  “Hmm. That may be an interesting thing to remember.”

  “Why did Angela Send you?” Niall interjected, anxious to divert the direction the conversation was going.

  “Joseph Overman is going to attempt something that’s against the natural order. He wants to use the stone to create his own church.”

  “Church?” Sinclair asked. “I don’t get it. He doesn’t believe in anything.”

  “Ah contraire, but he does. He believes in himself.”

  Niall nodded. Sinclair could see he was figuring something out. “He’s creating a following. He wants to be what the Voodoo priests are.” He shook his head. “No. He wants something even bigger.”

  “Yes, and the stone is the key. If he can touch that stone to a person and make them… well…make them into their wildest fantasy…then he will have a committed ruthless group of people following him who will see him as a god.” He started counting things off on his fingers. “They would be willing to steal for him, empty their bank accounts, sleep with him…kill for him.” James shook his head. “He would become untouchable.”

  “My God.” Sinclair whispered. “I didn’t know he was smart enough to think up something like this.”

  “He had to have known about the stone before stealing it.” Niall said. “He had to have been planning this for a long time.” Niall looked at Sinclair pointedly. “He never, not even once, alluded to anything like this?”

  Sinclair shook her head. “No. The Joseph I always knew was just an average guy. He was moody for sure, but he seemed to just skate through life and really didn’t give a shit about anything.”

  “Don’t let your sour grapes affect your memory, sweetheart.”

  Sinclair gave James a scathing look. “Sour grapes?”

  “Angela told me you were once involved with him.”

  Sinclair looked at Niall. “Did we ever tell her that directly?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then how did she know?”

  James stood and stretched. His shoulders and back made small popping noises. “She knows more about new arrivals in this city than you would think.” He shrugged. “She’s known Joseph for a while.”

  Niall and Sinclair looked at each other again.

  “I think we need to talk to Angela.” Niall clenched his jaw. “And I need to talk to Sinclair right now.”

  James looked at them passively. Seconds ticked by before he stood and grinned. “I suppose you mean alone.”

  Niall watched him leave with a scowl. He whirled on Sinclair once James was gone. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “I couldn’t!”

  “I can still hear you!” James called from the other room. “And the little dog is waking up.”

  “I hope he bites him.” Niall mumbled under his breath as he pulled Sinclair into the bathroom.

  “That’s a fine thing to wish! If Gabriel gets his blood in his mouth, who knows what will happen to him!”

  “It might fix him. Or at least finish turning him into something other than a snarling kid who likes to run around in his underwear.”

  Sinclair gave him a dark look as she crossed her arms. “So talk, Niall. You drug me in here.”

  “We can’t work with this guy.”

  “Why not? Angela sent him. If she trusts him then why can’t we?”

  “Do you really think we can trust her?”

  Sinclair looked at the floor. She ran a socked foot in a half circle in front of her. “I don’t feel like she means us any real harm.”

  “You don’t feel? Sinclair, what’s happening to you?”

  “I don’t know. Ever since I came here…I’ve just…” She lifted her face. “I’ve been changing.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Why does it scare you?”

  “It doesn’t.” He said quietly. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Why would I?”

  “You’re in a different world now. It’s a more dangerous place. Now you not only have to worry about humans, but you also have to worry about every paranormal thing imaginable.” He ran a hand along her face. “And a few unimaginable.”

  Sinclair studied him. His tan skin and dark eyes radiated an animalism that a day prior she didn’t understand the source of. Now that she did she was nearly jealous. She pushed the thought away as she reminded herself of her own new found talents. Her lips turned up slightly as she thought about how many things she would discover about herself in the future.

  “I’ll be fine, Niall. The important thing now is finishing this job. I need to get back to Palm Beach so I can clear my name and get back her so I can study under Angela or something.”

  Niall watched her leave the bathroom. So much for the mountains.

  He stopped at the entry way leading into the sitting area. Sinclair was leaned against the wall, her arms folded loosely. Niall glanced at the smile on her face before following her gaze. James had Gabriel sitting on his lap and was talking quietly to him. He made a quarter appear from behind Gabriel’s ear. Sinclair laughed lightly at the squeal and hoot that came from the child’s lips. James looked up and leaned back in the chair, situating Gabriel on his lap so he could lean into his chest. Gabriel looked at the quarter, moving it between his fingers, trying to mimic a trick James had obviously already shown him.

  “It’s a sin what has been done to this child.”

  Sinclair’s smile faded. “I know.”

  James’s eyes were hard and flinty. “Joseph Overman will pay with his own blood. He will pay with his own sanity.”

  While Niall sat uneasily eating pancakes with Sinclair and James, watching Gabriel try to paint his cheeks with syrup, Joseph Overman waited anxiously for a leer jet to land at a private runway just north of Bayou Beouf. He had plans, grand plans, but they had to be executed with a surgeon’s precision. There was no room for error.

  He looked back at the car where Latasha stood, her rear end planted on the hood. Her dark eyes were round and he could read the fear across the distance. She didn’t want to get too close.

  Joseph turned back to the empty runway, a grisly cold smile on his lips. Latasha had proven useful, but her usefulness was quickly evaporating. Her superstitions and lack of vision was becoming a hindrance. He would soon have to make the necessary decision as to how far he would allow her to continue on this journey. He thought of Sinclair again, the urge to kick himself making his shoulders and neck tighten. Sinclair had been as obedient as a pet dog, and he had taken advantage of it. He hadn’t paid attention. There had to have been signs, if Claude’s theory was correct. Had he known…?

&nb
sp; The distant drone of aircraft brought him out of his revelry. He shaded his eyes and watched the sky, unsure of what direction to look in. A flash of silver came out of the east as the sound came closer. Joseph didn’t know if he wanted to vomit or jump for joy. This was pivotal in making his plans reality and not just dreams. Why he hadn’t thought of this in Palm Beach was beyond him, but then again he didn’t have the same knowledge there that he had here. The rest of the needed knowledge was making a smooth and rapid descent from the sky.

  Joseph began walking towards the dirt airstrip as the plane touched down and decelerated to the end of the runway before turning around. It was an airstrip that was out of the control of the FAA. Planes flew in and out under radar bringing in or carrying out drugs of all kinds, weapons, and occasionally people; some willing passengers, but most were not.

  The door opened and a set of stairs descended. The first person Joseph saw was Enrique’s stone fast behemoth man servant. He scanned the surroundings before pinning Joseph with rueful glare. The smile that followed almost sent Joseph sprinting for the car. The next man was foreign to Joseph. His white blonde hair shone in the sunlight and his much shorter frame was a stark contrast to the man coming down the steps ahead of him.

  Joseph squinted at the cockpit windows and swallowed convulsively as Enrique himself vanished from the spot only to reappear a moment later at the top of the stairs. His v neck light weight shirt was the color of dried blood and his jeans were snug. Joseph had never seen Enrique in anything but suits. Sometimes he wore ties sometimes not, but he was always in a suit of some kind. Either the casual wear meant he would try to enjoy himself while he was there, or he would get down to business; dirty business. Joseph imagined the latter.

  Joseph nodded to the man waiting several yards from himself. He nodded back and approached Enrique. They spoke briefly before the man went to the plane to ready it for storage.

  Enrique walked towards Joseph, the top point in a strange moving human triangle as the three men walked towards him. Joseph planted his feet firmly, silently refusing to back up a step.

  “You have the largest set of kahunas I have ever seen.” Enrique smiled blandly. “Besides myself of course.”

  “Thank you for coming.”