by Leia Shaw
“Is it that big of a deal to just let me wait outside?” she asked though she knew he wasn’t upset about the coffee. “I’m not going anywhere. And you can see me from the window.”
He whipped his head around to pin her with a stern glare. “Yes it’s a big deal!” he snapped. “Clearly you don’t understand the danger you’re in.” She didn’t, really. All she knew was some wizards were after her and it had something to do with Sage. It was no surprise to Erin. Her sister was good at pissing people off. “You stay by me at all times until this is over, is that clear?”
The menacing look on his face was enough to make her nod her head in agreement. Taking out her arsenal of weapons, she slapped on her most charming expression. “But,” she said, taking a tentative step towards him, “you could just run in real quick and grab me a coffee couldn’t you? It would only take a minute.” She shrugged with an innocent smile. “In, out, no big deal.”
He stopped pacing to face her with an arched a brow. “I could say the same to you, querida.”
Damn. He’s got me there. She hung her head then looked up at him with the puppy dog eyes she’d mastered over the years. She knew the moment he became putty in her hands.
He inhaled deeply then ended in a long, drawn out sigh. “All right. I’ll get you coffee. But you are to stand here,” he dragged her by the arm and placed her in front of the store window, “and you don’t move. Understand?”
It was a tad overdramatic for her taste, but she nodded. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to deal with him for long. In only the few minutes they’d spent together she could already tell he was arrogant, overbearing, and…grumpy. She couldn’t help but feel like she was the reason for his bitterness.
At least he wasn’t bad to look at. No, he was sexy as hell. Tall, dark, and handsome came to mind. Only, replace handsome with terrifyingly delicious and you would be spot on. His black leather pants hugged his backside perfectly. His powerful thighs, thick and rooted like tree trunks, were wrapped cozily in the soft pliable leather. Men just don’t wear leather pants enough anymore, she thought, nibbling her lip, staring shamelessly while he waited in line. Thick raven hair framed his gorgeous bronzed face reaching his chin. His face was rough and strained, but it was handsome in a rugged Hugh Jackman as Wolverine kind of way.
She gave her head a shake. I have a boyfriend! She shouldn’t be drooling over a friend of Sage’s when she was completely happy in her current relationship. That reminded her, Jimmy would be back from poker night soon. He’d be worried if he found the apartment empty. She would text him as soon as she found out from this mystery protector what the hell was going on.
Coffee in hand, Erin followed her bodyguard back to their room where he ordered her to sit on the bathroom counter so he could treat her wound. She insisted it was fine but the unbending look on his face told her she should just go along with it. She hopped onto the counter while he ran cold water over a washcloth.
“You never told me your name,” she said, pulling back her hair to give him access to her wound.
He leaned forward to study her temple. “Marcelo.” His breath whispered across her skin giving her goose bumps.
“Marcelo? Is that Italian?”
“Spanish.”
His accent mixed with his rich, husky voice was hot enough to melt ice on any Albany winter day. His language was from a different time but he didn’t look a day over thirty. Brown eyes as dark as chocolate flickered back and forth between fury and a strange sort of warmth. Just when she was about to ask if he was from Spain strong fingers gripped her jaw and tilted her head to the side. She flinched when he pressed the washcloth to the wound.
Immediately he backed up, his eyes filled with concern. “Did I hurt you?”
She smiled. Hm…maybe there’s a gentleman under all that uncombed hair and surly exterior after all. “A little, but I can take it.”
Marcelo nudged her knees apart and settled his hips between them. He leaned in so close she could hear his heartbeat. Or maybe that was her own. Yep. Her heart was pounding ferociously in her chest. She never would have guessed hands as big as his could be so gentle. Warmth poured off of him, wrapping her in his scent. Inviting, relaxing, seducing. Pure male. She almost moaned out loud in pleasure.
Snap out of it, Erin! You’re being ridiculous! Even the sting of the alcohol he dabbed on her head wasn’t enough to stop her from breathing him in and feeling the sudden urge to just melt into him.
“What were you doing at that bar alone, Erin?” he asked, breaking the silence with a cool voice. Something about his tone and the way he’d used her name made her feel like she was about to be scolded. It was enough to snap her out of the strange hypnotic trance his body had induced.
“Umm…just having a couple drinks…with some friends,” she answered casually. But she’d never been a good liar.
Marcelo lowered his head and looked her in the eye. Yup, he saw right through her. “You cannot lie to me. I was there, remember? I caught you when you tumbled from the table you were dancing on. And you didn’t have just a few drinks. You were quite drunk.”
A chuckle escaped her. “No…I was tanked.” But it had been fun and she had no regrets. “Ow!” she cried when he scrubbed the dried blood viciously from her head. What happened to the gentle giant?
With a disappointed sigh, he wet the washcloth again and soothed the sore area with gentle strokes. “Why do you laugh about getting drunk? You could have been raped. You don’t know how men think when they see a girl like you dressed up like…this.” He waved a hand at her clothing.
She furrowed her brow. What was he trying to say? She looked like a slut?
“And when I left with you, I saw no friends step forward to defend you. You put yourself in a very dangerous situation, cosita.”
“Well aren’t you a downer,” she grumbled to herself. But he was right.
With a sideways glance he plopped a towel filled with ice into her hand. “Put this on your head.”
She frowned. It was just a little bump, wasn’t it? She opened her mouth to argue then shut it when he arched a challenging brow. This was a man used to getting what he wanted. I better pick my battles. Slapping the ice onto her head she jumped down from the counter. “So, what do we do now?”
“Now I take you to your sister.”
“Where is she?” Sage had been vague about her location in the last few months. The more questions Erin asked, the less her sister answered. But they were the kind of friends that could go a long time without talking then pick up right where they’d left off. It was the perfect relationship for people like them. For people who’d grown up never really having a home, never having a family.
Ignoring her question, Marcelo turned away and strolled into the bedroom. “Where’s your car? Is it at the bar?”
She followed him, ice against her head. “Yes, it is. Now, are you hard of hearing or just ignoring me?”
He paused at her sour tone then dropped his gaze. “I better let her explain where she is.”
She scrunched her nose in displeasure. “Okay. What about the wizards –”
“Sorcerers.”
“Whatever. What do they want with me?”
“I better let her answer that as well.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, attempting to tame her rising frustration. “Is there anything you can tell me?”
He ran a hand over his chin, studying her face as if the answer were written on it. Uh-oh. She knew that look. Either Marcelo was going to lie to her, or, at bare minimum, give her half-truths.
“There is a group of sorcerers who want you in custody. We think it has to do with Sage but we don’t know for certain. They are powerful and dangerous. I will protect you until I hand you over to Sage and James.” She scowled at the implication that she was some sort of package. “This can happen quickly if you cooperate.”
He gave her a weighted glare that irritated her. As if she weren’t already doing everything he told her!
&n
bsp; “Also,” he continued, “we will be traveling to Colorado. Together.” Then he was inches from her face so fast she flinched. “And as I said before, you do not leave my side!”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
She’d meant to be sarcastic but he smiled and said, “Now you’re getting it.”
Rolling her eyes again she watched him walk to the window. With graceful movements, he opened the curtains and stared into the night. It wasn’t just his looks that made her breath hitch and her knees tremble, it was his very presence. Powerful. Confident. He took over the room and everyone in it with a quiet sort of strength. It sucked you in and held you captive as you found yourself ready to do everything and anything he asked with no question or hesitation. It was dangerous. He was dangerous.
Marcelo turned back around to face her, surprising her with the depth in those chocolate brown eyes. Rich and deep, swirls of midnight black threaded through the tawny brown. “How did Sage know the sorcerers were interested in you? Did they try to hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Two of them came to my apartment.” She had known they were up to no good straightaway. They had been too friendly. No one dressed up like FBI agents but acting like preschool teachers should be trusted. Jimmy had convinced them she wasn’t home though she’d stood just inside the door, listening to every word. “They said Sage was in danger and needed my help. I knew it was a lie. Sage would never send for me if it involved danger. We’ve always protected each other. Plus, she can take care of herself.” Marcelo’s brows shot up. “Why do you look so surprised?”
His lips curled up on one side. Whether it was in amusement or disgust, she didn’t know. With Sage, it could go either way. “I happen to have an interesting history with your sister.” Before she could question him, he asked, “How’s your head?”
She lowered the icepack. “Cold.”
His lips twitched. “Leave the icepack. Let’s go get your car.” He opened the door to the hallway.
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now. The faster I get you to Sage, the faster I can get on with my life.”
Well, when you put it like that… “Look, it’s obvious you don’t want to be here. Just take me to my boyfriend. He can bring me to Colorado just as easily.” She shook her head roughly, then muttered, “Not that I even believe Sage is th –”
“That will not be happening.”
She arched a brow. “Why? Because of the danger?” When he nodded she insisted, “Jimmy can keep me safe.”
Marcelo let the door slam shut and took one intimidating step towards her. “Really? Did Sage tell you about werewolves?”
She shook her head. She’d only heard about sorcerers and witches – her sister was both. Sage had also told her to stay away from anyone too good looking to be real, and anyone who gets furry on the new moon. Vampires and werewolves. It hadn’t taken much for Erin to believe her. Ever since Sage had begun blowing things up with a single thought and making thunderstorms appear in sunny skies, Erin had begun to believe that anything was possible.
Marcelo took another step closer, making an exaggerated effort to loom over her. In a dark voice he explained, “Sorcerers are known to hire werewolves to hunt their prey.”
Prey? She shuddered.
“Werewolves are just under seven feet tall with shoulders wider than that doorframe.” He gestured with his eyes towards the door. “When they turn to their crinos form, half wolf, half human, they get even bigger. Their fingers turn into claws with nails five inches long and as pointy as daggers. They grow upper and lower fangs and their jaws extend big enough to fit my entire fist in their mouth. They are fast and unbelievably strong.” His gaze roamed her body in a disturbing way. “Strong enough to snap you in half like a twig. And vampires are no better. They are just as deadly, only worse because they often look like ordinary people. You wouldn’t even know if you were talking to one.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “That’s who’s hunting you, querida. Still think your boyfriend can keep you safe?”
Erin stared at him, careful not to show any fear. Sage may have sent someone who wouldn’t hurt her but that didn’t mean Erin was stupid enough to believe everything that came out of his mouth. And this guy looked like trouble.
He looked deep into her eyes, seeming to search her very soul. It was more unsettling than the visual of the werewolves he’d just given her. Averting her gaze, she stepped back and dug into her pockets for her phone. They were empty. Where the hell –
“Looking for this?” he said, holding her phone in his palm.
“You stole my phone?” Okay, the dictatorship is officially annoying.
He shrugged. “I merely caught it as it fell from your pocket while you were shamelessly dancing half naked on a table top.”
Lips pursed, she held back a string of profanities. “If you think you can make me feel guilty about that, you’re wrong. Now give it back!” She thrust her hand towards him, palm up.
“Not likely.” Was he holding back a grin? Amused by her anger?
She lunged for the phone but he yanked it away at the last second. With an irritated huff she gave up. Marcelo outweighed her by at least one hundred pounds. She wasn’t about to fight him for it.
“You won’t allow me to at least tell my boyfriend I’m okay?” she asked in her sweetest voice.
“Already did. Sent a text while you were sleeping. Now get going.” He opened the door and held it with an arrogant smirk.
Just go with it, she told herself. You’ll soon be rid of him and reunited with Sage. Repressing a growl, she stomped through the door.
He was so silent behind her that she looked over her shoulder to be sure he followed. When she saw his eyes glued to her ass, she sighed. Men! “Eyes up, Lieutenant.”
***
Marcelo didn’t want to be staring at her ass but it was inevitable with the way she walked, hips flaring perfectly from her tiny waist, thin legs below an adorable backside. He wanted to squeeze it, pat it, massage it, watch it bounce as he took her from behind. He wanted to grasp it in his palms as she rode him from above.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, reining back the wild images. Someone should smack him. He’d been long without a woman. Too long.
Outside he took the lead as they walked the four blocks to the bar. The air was hot and sticky for June in northern New York. Marcelo had spent several months in the area in 2004 hunting down a rogue demon that had been wreaking havoc across the state. The demon had somehow managed to set every New Yorker’s ring tone to “What’s New Pussy Cat?” by Tom Jones. The suicide rate that year had been exceptionally high.
He hadn’t loved Albany in 2004 and he didn’t love it now. But as he’d traveled most of the world in his eight hundred and forty three years, there were worse places. Nebraska came to mind.
After several silent minutes he turned to check on his protection detail. She was chewing on a fingernail and staring into the darkness around them.
“Are you nervous?”
She shrugged. “A little.”
“Why?”
“Why?” she repeated. “Do I really have to spell it out? Bad…things…are chasing me. I have no idea what’s going on with my sister. I’m leaving everything normal behind me for who knows how long. And I’m traveling across the country with a stranger.” She stopped her escalating tirade to take a deep breath. “Speaking of,” she glared up at him accusingly, “what are you?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Sage wouldn’t send a human to protect me from supernaturals and you sure as hell aren’t a sorcerer.”
Marcelo snorted. “And what would you know about sorcerers?” He shortened his stride so they were side by side.
“I know they are gentlemen. They are honorable and noble.” She raked her gaze over his body. “You are none of those things.”
He held his arms out to the side in mock surprise. “I’ve been a perfect gentleman. What have I done wrong?”
“All right,” he grumbled, running a hand over the back of his neck. “You made your point. I’m not a sorcerer, as it turns out.”
“Which leads me back to my first question. What are you?”
“Guess.”
She nibbled her bottom lip. Why did he have the sudden urge to take over with that lip? “Werewolf?”
He scoffed.
“Are you a witch like Sage?”
Another scoff.
“Well I don’t know! What else is there? A vampire?”
He had to give her an answer one way or another, but he hadn’t been looking forward to this conversation. Staring down at the cracks in the pavement he prayed to the gods she wouldn’t start hyperventilating again. “Yes, I am vampire.”
“Great,” she grumbled. “That’s just great.”
“It is?”
“No!”
This woman was as confusing as they come.
“You’re going to drink my blood, aren’t you?” Before he could answer she ground her teeth together and clenched her little fists. “I’m gonna kill Sage for sending-”
“Will you be quiet?” he snapped. “I am not going to drink your blood. I have ways of feeding that won’t involve you.”
She waited a moment before declaring, “I want a gun.”
His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “For what?”
“Protection.”
“You have me. And trust me, I’m more effective than any gun.”
“I want it for protection against you, clueless!”
Protection against me? First, he was angry. After all he’d done she still thought he would hurt her? And she planned to arm herself with a gun? Then a short bark of laughter erupted from his chest. “Querida, a gun will not kill me. It wouldn’t even hurt me. It’d be the equivalent of a bee sting.”