“What beer do you have on tap?” the smaller man asked. His voice was like syrup, golden and delicious. He had a faint accent that Claire couldn’t place.
“Well, we got Millers, Heineken, Kilkenny, Guinness and the house craft beer.” Claire rattled them off, her gaze locked with his. Her elbows thudded on the bar as she leaned in handing him a menu. “They’re all on here.” She smiled.
“What is this Craft Beer?” the bigger one asked turning. Claire swallowed. Where his brother was smooth and refined this one was raw. He turned piercing blue eyes on her and then smiled the same hypnotic grin as his brother.
All her thoughts ran out of her ears. “Um…it’s made here. Charlie brews it in the basement actually.” She tossed her head on one side. Jed leaned in holding the menu up but not looking at it. She could feel his eyes slipping to her neckline. Thank you Jenny for the extra cleavage. “It’s a light beer; local; smooth; very tasty. Once you’ve tried it, you’ll never want anything else.” Claire purred and somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered what the hell she was doing.
“Mmm, I’ll have a Guinness, and my little brother Jed here will have a glass of milk,” said the bigger one. His accent was heavier, sounding very Eastern European.
The smaller one thumped his brother on the arm. “Don’t listen to Lance, he’s full of crap. Smooth and tasty, you say,” he licked his lips. “Never want anything else, eh? I’ll try the craft beer.”
Claire realized she was just leaning against the bar, staring. She managed to snap herself out of it.
“Coming right up,” she chirped and pushed herself slowly off the bar. As she walked away to place the order she turned to glance over her shoulder. Jed was still watching her. She put a little extra swing into her hips as she walked back down the bar to the barrels.
Away from the brothers she gulped fresh air and felt intensely grateful to be pouring something simple. But her hand was shaking anyway and she ended up with far too much foam on the Guinness, and not enough at all on the Craft.
What was this effect these men had on her? It was almost feral. She had just about thrown herself at them across the bar. She was going to have to exercise more self-control. Flirting was fine, it was part of the job, but blatant sexual desire…she might as well hang a sign around her neck saying desperate.
Claire gripped the drinks like a barrier and placed them down in front of Jed and Lance.
“What’s your name?” Lance asked as he took the tankard from her. His fingers brushed hers and Claire felt her heart skip.
“It’s Claire,” she said smiling.
“It’s beautiful,” Jed said taking his tankard too.
Claire smiled back, feeling things stir inside that she hadn’t felt in a good long while.
Then Jed pulled out a wallet. Claire hadn’t seen that in ages. Everyone had a Pay-Chip now and cash was almost obsolete. But he held out the notes to her and smiled. She took them and made change and held it to him hoping his fingers would brush hers. He shook his head.
“Your tip,” he said and winked.
Lance chuckled and said, “I’m sure that you are a fabulous hostess Claire, and will keep the drinks coming tonight alright?”
Claire nodded. “As you say.” The brothers turned from her, though Jed’s eyes rested on her a moment longer than Lance’s did.
Claire went back down the bar to her other customers feeling bewildered and hot. She kept slipping surreptitious glances down the bar at the brothers when she was busy with other customers, unable to stay away too long. They were like a drug and after a while it began to scare her. There was something different, something intense and unfamiliar about them. They seemed hungry in a predatory way that made her want to run both to and from them at the same time. It was beginning to give her a headache.
***
The evening wore on and became a thick, very sticky night with no breeze to speak of. Claire was sweat soaked and exhausted by the time Charlie decided to call last rounds. Half an hour later Claire was all cashed up and out the door feeling more listless and like she’d lost something than ever before. The brothers had been the last ones out, thanking her for her excellent service and slipping her a few hundred-dollar bills as they went. Who were they? And why did she want to see them so badly again?
Claire stood for a moment outside letting the cooler night airflow over her hot skin. She wanted to take a bath for the next year. Maybe that would clear her head. Her feet ached and suddenly she realized she hadn’t eaten at all and was famished. Her apartment was just up the street and on the way was Julio’s Taco truck the perfect late night food.
She turned to her left to walk down the boardwalk passed the over-priced hotels, when she noticed movement in the dim light of a lamp. The light was flickering on and off as though the bulb was just about to blow. Under it, their heads together looking at something were Jed and Lance.
Her heart did cartwheels. Were they waiting for her? Oh God what if they were waiting for her? She wasn’t stupid. She’d lived here for a long time now and this situation seemed fishy. What were they still doing here? What were they looking at? Claire hesitated.
Newspaper headlines flashed in her fore brain. All of them recounting the tails of girls who should’ve known better, should’ve read the signs and known that their doom was imminent. Was she setting herself up to be one of those girls by wanting to blindly run off with two total strangers?
Charlie was still in Cool Joe’s. All she would have to do was go back through the doors and she could leave with him. That would be the sensible thing to do. Flirting behind the bar was perfectly acceptable. It was part of the experience and no one took it seriously. But here outside in the dark with nothing but a few yards between them… this was a different world. Claire knew too many stories, and patrons hanging around outside the bar, waiting for you, were nothing but trouble.
But they probably weren’t out here waiting for her. They were probably consulting a map since they seemed to do things old school style. They weren’t local so maybe they didn’t know where their hotel was from here. Should she offer to help them?
And if she did and that spell came over her again, and she woke up in a strange hotel room with nothing on but the sheet? Then what? Claire knew she was over thinking this. Really they were nice guys. They seemed really nice. I’m sure that’s what all those murdered girls would say, her hindbrain scolded her. The last thing Claire wanted to do was die outside Cool Joe’s. Her obituary would be the most boring ever written. Claire Sofia Underwood died outside the bar she worked at. So much potential, sadly never realized.
She sighed and turned her head looking the other way up the boardwalk. She could go that way and avoid the whole thing. There! But it was dark and mostly deserted the other attractions being for the daylight hours. There was just one person walking towards her and dressed in a trench coat in this heat, he looked creepier than Jed and Lance could ever be.
The brothers were having a heated discussion, their voices rising in the still night air. They were speaking a foreign language and Claire couldn’t understand a word, but she knew a fight when she heard one. They probably wouldn’t notice her if she walked by really fast.
Trench coat guy was almost at Cool Joe’s far corner now and he gave Claire the willies, so she began to walk down the boardwalk toward Jed and Lance. She slipped her hand into her purse and felt around for the little canister of knockout gas she had bought for just such occasions. It was somewhere in there, but her questing fingers couldn’t seem to find it. Why did she carry so much junk?
Never had the walk away from Cool Joe’s taken so long, or felt so perilous. Claire felt her heart beating double time, as she seemed to inch her way down the wooden slats, her hand still searching her purse for the ever-illusive protection she carried.
Not far now. Not far. Just keep going. Don’t look at them. Just walk like you’re not worried at all.
The argument was getting louder but Claire kept her head d
own. And then silence, nothing but the sound of her shoes on the wood. Shocked Claire looked up. Jed was there, in front of her. She hadn’t seen him move. His eyes were glowing in the darkness fixed on her and Claire stood still, like a rabbit in headlights. Her heart hammered in her chest, her knees going weak. She thought in a moment of added panic that she might wet herself. Those eyes were not normal. They were not human! Her fingers moved in her bag and closed around something cold and metallic.
Then there was a blur of movement. An arm grabbed her around the waist and spun her backwards and down to the ground. Claire cried out in alarm pulling her hand out of her purse and pressing the plunger furiously. The air filled with the smell of flowers. The arm let go of her and a gruff voice she didn’t recognize said “Stay down!”
Shaking Claire lay on the wood. She was half behind a big metal trashcan. She pulled herself into a ball and clasped her hands over her ears. She could hear growls and bangs. There were screams and something clattered to the ground near her. Then something else, small and wet landed on her legs and she tried to make herself smaller. A terrible smell filled the air, like liquid metal and Claire realized it was blood.
“Oh God! Oh God!” she repeated over and over. “It’s not real! It’s not real!”
With a thud next to her, Claire opened her eyes. She looked into the anguished face of a man about to die. He was pale and his clothes were soaking through with red. It was too much for her. She stood up, and ran.
Around her things whizzed through the air. Growls and grunts, thuds and booms filled her ears to overflowing. Figures darted faster than she could see around her. But all she wanted to do was go home. The urge to not be there anymore was so strong that Claire would have crawled over a heap of dead bodies to get away and not even have noticed.
But suddenly something growled right next to her. Something huge and black was standing there. She spun, pressing the plunger on her still clasped canister. The air filled with the scent of flowers again. She got a glimpse of fur, a muzzle and then something landed heavily on her head, knocking her to the ground. The world swam sickeningly, and darkness rose like a merciful angel to claim her.
***
Daylight slid gently into the room through a slice in the curtains. Claire watched dust motes hover and glide on the faint air currents and for a moment the world seemed peaceful and quiet. Then she heard voices in the next room. She couldn’t’t quite make out what they were saying but they seemed sort of familiar, but not and far away.
Claire lay in a warm, fuzzy daze for a few minutes until she realized that the ceiling wasn’t hers. She looked at the curtains. They had a yellow pattern of flowers on them. Then she looked down at the covers that matched the curtains. She sat up in alarm. This isn’t my apartment! And immediately lay back down again. A wave of nausea ran over her like a runaway truck. Gulping air she tried to force the bile back down.
With great care a few minutes later Claire tried sitting up again, gingerly, and when no nausea followed she relaxed a little. So she was in a strange room. There were two doors, one to her left and the other to her right. Okay, good to know there was possibly an exit. A thought entering her mind she quickly lifted the covers and saw that she was still fully clothed in her work shirt and jeans, right down to her tennis shoes. That was a good sign. Her bag was next to her on the bed. A quick search revealed that her phone was missing. Okay, not a good sign.
Suddenly the door to her right opened and Claire’s head whipped around on an instruction from her hindbrain so fast, that her thoughts were left hanging on their own. A glimpse of pink skin and black fur, a growled word and then the door shut again. But standing in the room, looking at her and smiling, was Jed.
“You?!” she managed, fear pulling anger up behind it for backup. “What the hell is going on here? Why have you brought me here? Where am I?”
Jed, his smile never wavering, raised both his hands palms out. “I mean you no harm.”
Claire sneered, “Right, you just decided it would be fun to bring me here for what…?”
“You were unconscious, we couldn’t’t leave you there” he said walking slowly around the bed. Claire swung her feet out of the covers.
“Well thanks and all, but I’m leaving.” She stood up and began to walk to the door.
But Jed got there first. He moved like lightning.
“Now, now Claire, we need to talk. I promise I won’t hurt you, but you really do need to listen to me before we do something foolish, and someone gets killed,” Jed said. “You are my guest, well mine and my brother’s. Please promise you will hear us out. You must have so many questions.” His blue eyes bore into her green ones and something inside Claire began to melt. She let her bag slide down on its strap until it hit the floor. Jed nodded.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll get us some food. You must be hungry.” Jed reaching behind his back turned the door handle and opened the door that Claire had meant to go through in her dash to freedom. It opened onto a sitting room furnished with two sofas, chairs and a table, a mini fridge and small coffee station.
“Can I offer you coffee?” Jed asked gently escorting her into the room to one of the sofas so that the window was behind her. “You Americans do love your coffee don’t you?”
“I guess,” she said sitting on the cream colored fabric and running her fingers over it. Right now she needed to touch something that was undeniably real and sturdy. Something that wouldn’t surprise her, change and suddenly be something else and in this space the sofa was it. The fabric was soft but rough, and smelled of hotel, which was to say of dust and other people’s Parfüme.
Jed busied himself at the coffee station putting a pot on to perk. “Lance is a coffee nut” he said, his back to Claire. “Sometimes I think he would never get up if he didn’t have at least one cup.”
“Where is Lance?” she asked edging along the sofa. Looking around the room, she spotted another door right in front of her. It was perilously close to where Jed was making coffee. She would never make it to the door before him, not with him moving so terribly fast.
“He is changing” Jed said not looking at her. “He took a bullet last night, so I was patching him up. He should be out in a moment.”
And the previous night came flooding back to her.
Jed turned, two cups of coffee in his hands, to find Claire pale and shaking on the couch. He moved towards her but she flinched, pulling her legs up on the sofa trying to get away from him. Tears ran down her cheeks.
“You stay away from me!” she cried.
“Claire please, let me explain” Jed said.
The door to the bedroom opened. Claire turned and saw the huge black bear standing in the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat and she tried backing away from the creature, through the sofa, until her voice came back and then she screamed and screamed.
***
It was a story of sadness and loss. Claire listened as Jed and occasionally Lance, spoke for hours about their past. They told her the story of how, as young children, their parents were killed and they were taken into the service of a Russian drug lord called Sergei.
Raised by this mad man to enforce his law in his drug empire, Lance and Jed killed on command. Their shape shifting ability was an added bonus, harnessed by Sergei to make them feared all through the European underworld.
It had been a fine life for the two as they had the compulsion to hunt in their veins. So Jed and Lance never asked why, never doubted that this was the life for them, until one day. That was the day that Jed found out that he had inadvertently gotten Sergei’s youngest daughter pregnant. When he found out about it, Jed was thrilled. He was excited to be a father, something he had never had. He and Olga had gone to Sergei to get his blessing. They could never have predicted his reaction.
In a rage more terrible than they had ever seen, Sergei slit his own daughter’s throat and let her die in Jed’s arms, calling her and her newly conceived child abominations. Jed went mad too, transform
ed and ripped Sergei’s throat out. And then he went on a killing rampage through the compound. Lance was forced to kill to save his brother and together they fled Europe to England, and then finally to the USA.
“We had no choice” Jed said. “I loved Olga and her death was more than I could take.”
“So, now we are hunted, as you saw last night” Lance finished off draining his whiskey glass. He stood up and went to the minibar, pulling two small bottles of Bells out and pouring them into his glass. Happy with the refill he went back to his seat opposite Claire.
“Woah, that's quite a story” Claire said shifting on the sofa. “So those people you were fighting last night…the guy in the trench coat? He followed you all the way from Russia? What is he, like a van Helsing or something?”
“Yes” Jed said smiling. “You see Lance, I knew she would get it.”
Lance grunted and took a swig of whiskey. “Dieter Amsel, is his name. He has been…persistent.”
“And the others? There were others there but I don’t know where they came from,” Claire said trying to recall the previous night. “Damn! I just…It’s all so fuzzy.”
“That would be the bump,” Jed said smiling and gently laying a hand on the back of her head. “There, one of Amsel’s men missed me and hit you. I can’t explain their lack of professionalism.”
“Ah ha” Claire said reaching up to her head and finding Jed’s fingers still lingering. For a moment, a shock ran through her making her heart beat faster. Then he pulled his hand away and she gently probed the back of her own head, wincing.
“So now what?” she asked. “You’ve told me this frankly unbelievable story…what are you hoping I’ll do with it? Don’t get me wrong. I’m really sorry that life has been shitty for you guys. It’s just, I’m only a bartender with a broken home of her own to deal with. What do you want me to do for you?”
Lance sighed. “I told you this was a mistake brother.”
Jed shook his head and stood up. “No! It’s not a mistake. We couldn’t’t leave her there,” then turning to Claire he said, “If Amsel gets his hands on you, you’ll wish you were dead before he’s finished with you. You’re safer with us.”
Romance: Mills and Boon Romance: The Boss's Proposal (Billionaire Bad Boy BBW Romance) Page 4