by Dannika Dark
“Where’s Shepherd?” Blue asked, expanding a window on one of the monitors.
Wyatt hauled another MoonPie box into the room and shoved it under his desk. “Probably hugging the toilet and regretting his life choices. Boy, you really missed out. You should have seen Raven riding on the roof of that car. It was out of sight.”
“Is that so?” she said flatly.
Wyatt bounced on his heels while admiring the smaller snack cartons on the floor. “I’m too wired to sleep. After I run a check on these plates, I’ll take over and relieve you of your duties.”
“That’s a sugar high you’re feeling,” she pointed out. “Don’t count on it lasting all night. I’ve got this until Christian takes over. How many of those things did you eat?”
Wyatt put his hands on his hips. “I don’t think I like your judgmental tone.”
“File a complaint.”
Since we didn’t have any bodies to clean up at the accident scene on the highway, we’d skipped out. Christian said our Mage must have had second thoughts about issuing us a warning, so he hijacked a truck and ran it off the road to drive his point home.
The only thing that drove home were all those MoonPies.
Wyatt had stuffed as many as he could cram into his tiny trunk and the floorboards, and we each had cartons on our laps. Shepherd balked about it, but since Wyatt was the one driving and offered to leave any complainers behind, we quit arguing and got the hell out of there before someone called the state troopers.
Niko entered the room, Christian following close behind. He stopped for a moment and appeared to be looking around.
Christian leaned against the doorjamb. “She’s over there on the sofa. Refusing anyone’s help.”
Niko’s bare foot kicked one of the cartons, and it skidded across the floor. Without breaking stride, he approached the couch. I couldn’t help but notice his drop-crotch pants. They were baggy all around except at the ankles and not something I usually saw him wearing. Given he was sans shirt and his hair was uncharacteristically messy, Christian must have dragged him out of bed, and that made me feel a little bit guilty.
Niko looked me over. “I almost didn’t recognize your energy.” He knelt down. “I heard you tested the theory of gravity tonight.”
I conjured a mirthless grin. “It’s my elbow. I’m just waiting it out until morning.”
“Is it cut?”
“No. I think it’s broken. I banged it up pretty good.”
Niko put his hand on my hip and felt around until he located my arm. “This one?”
“Yep.”
“Can you remove your coat?”
“My arm and leg hurt most from hitting the wall. I’ve got some scrapes and bruises, but—”
“You can draw light in the morning, but it’s better to fix breaks right away. Sometimes if a bone starts to set in the wrong position, it has to be rebroken.”
That thought didn’t sound pleasant, so without sitting up, I let Niko help me free my arm from the sleeve. I growled when I had to bend it, the pain intolerable.
“Apologies. Just a quick touch of light to set the bone.”
Warm heat penetrated my skin like liquid, and before I saw the flash of light, the pain in my elbow vanished. I still ached in other places, but nothing unbearable.
“Better?” he asked.
I sighed, grateful for his kindness. “Thanks, Niko. You always save the day.”
“Just be sure to draw light first thing in the morning. If it’s overcast again, come see me, but only if it’s something serious… like internal injuries.”
“I’m just a little banged up, that’s all.”
“I hope your suffering was worth the effort.”
“We got a license plate,” Wyatt said around a mouthful of chocolate, marshmallow, and graham cracker. He sat down in a leather chair and switched on a laptop. “Suspect numero uno.”
“If this doesn’t turn out to be the right guy,” I began, “I still want to know his name and address.”
Wyatt began typing. “What are you going to do, give him a speeding ticket?”
Christian came up behind Blue and put his hands on her shoulders. “How’s the search going, lass?”
“Only one bid came up for a minor—a twelve-year-old.”
The room fell silent.
“Can’t we bid on him?” I asked.
Christian turned. “You can’t save them all. We don’t have unlimited funds.”
“But you’ll have rescued the kid.”
“Aye. And if we’re lucky enough to catch the seller, we might not have enough evidence against him. We can’t prove they were the kidnapper, and we can’t link them to a murder. It would be the decent thing to do, but it would also put us out of business. Sometimes there is no child. Here we have an opportunity to capture the person on the front end. Whether he’s the actual seller is irrelevant; he’s the man who does the dirty work. If we catch him, we can save a lot more lives.”
Niko rubbed his eyes and stood up. “If my services are no longer required, I’ll bid you all a good night.”
“Hey, Niko,” I quickly said.
He half turned.
“I owe you a training session.”
“Tomorrow. One hour before breakfast, we’ll work on balance.”
After Niko left the room, Christian strolled over to the sofa and looked me over. “You should lie down.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
“Viktor might have plans for us tomorrow once we fill him in. Better you get some rest in a proper bed.”
Without warning, he bent down and scooped me into his arms. I grimaced when a dull ache spread across my shoulder, but I didn’t complain. My leg was fine as long as I didn’t walk on it.
We moved into the hall, which was illuminated by a few lanterns on the walls. Christian hadn’t put on a shirt since arriving home, and unlike me, he was buzzing with energy. He had the look of a person after they get off a roller coaster. Even the smirk beneath his scruffy beard told me his spirits were high.
“Why are you in such a good mood?” I finally asked.
“I thought Blue was a daredevil, but I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman as fearless as you.”
I smiled lazily. “My daddy’s a biker. It’s in my blood.”
“Were you this brazen before you were turned?”
“I once went train surfing at night.”
“Surprised it wasn’t on an airplane.”
“Couldn’t afford the ticket.”
He ascended a wide staircase that gently curved to the left.
“Where were you at tonight?” I asked.
“Just having a pint.”
“You got to the bridge pretty fast.”
“It wasn’t that far off. I shadow walked most of the way. Had to leave behind the Honda.”
“Maybe you’ll get lucky and someone will steal it.”
“Now is that any way to talk about my girl? She’s a classy one. Reliable, fast, warms my arse.”
“She’s also not your type.”
“And how would you know what my type is?”
“Guys like you don’t do practical. Why are you trying to be someone you’re not? The bike is definitely you, so why not get a car that’s more your style?”
“And what would that be?”
“I don’t know. Something dark, dangerous, and rough around the edges.”
He pushed my door open with his shoulder. “My Honda makes me a respectable man.”
“Since when does a man who has sex with women in public care about respect?”
“Touché.”
He placed me on my bed and strode over to the window. I could barely make him out in the inky darkness.
I sat up and took Christian’s coat off before scooting to the right side. “Would you mind lighting a candle? I can’t see as well as you can.”
His voice neared. “Don’t make ordering me around into a habit.”
He struck a match, the
flame engulfing the end, and lit three candles. Instead of placing them on the tables beside the bed, he walked to the wall opposite the bed and set them on the hearth before using one of them to light up the kindling. I tossed his coat on the foot of the bed and propped two pillows behind me. Because the bed was low to the ground, I could lie down at night and watch the fire across the room.
“What made you chase him?” he asked, opening the flue.
“The mark on his neck. Gem said a waitress remembered a guy with a neck tattoo talking to Jennifer shortly before they fired her. Most criminals have stomping grounds. They’re creatures of habit and stick to places where they feel in control. They know who works there, what the regulars are like, and where all the exits are located. Anyhow, I noticed him talking to a woman, and it didn’t seem like casual flirting.”
“Was she pregnant?”
My brows knitted together. “I don’t think so.”
The log succumbed to the flames and glowed in the hearth. Flecks of orange and gold twinkled against the darkness. I hadn’t done much to my room in terms of decorating aside from a picture, a rug, and new bedding. On my left was the door, and in the corner to the right of it the standing mirror. All my clothes fit perfectly in the armoire to the left of the door. Honestly, I didn’t have enough personal belongings to warrant buying a shelf or even a bigger desk. The scarlet-red bedspread kept me warm at night, especially with a fur blanket and a fire going. My chamber was a palace compared to living on the streets. And as of late, it was finally beginning to feel like home.
Christian set the candle on the bedside table, moving the faux roses out of the way before they went up in flames. He sat down next to me, his back straight against the headboard.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” I said. “You looked like Batman jumping off that bridge.”
“All in a day’s work. Now I’m beginning to understand why all your trousers have holes. I thought you bought ’em that way.”
I glanced down and noticed the blood and grit on my jeans from the accident. Then I poked my finger through the hole in his sweater, which I was still wearing. “Do I want to know how you got this?”
He peered over. “Probably not.”
We both chuckled.
Firelight danced on the ceiling and walls, spreading across the bed like a river of orange light. I sat up to remove the sweater.
Christian helped me. “What’s your da like?”
The sweater came over my head and messed my hair up. I swept it away from my face and sat back. “I can best describe my father in one story. I wasn’t one of the popular girls in high school, so I didn’t go out a lot. When I was fifteen, the high school quarterback asked me to a dance.” I nestled against the pillows and kept my eyes on the fireplace. “I was so damn excited that someone had finally noticed me. My father took me to a dress shop and spent a good amount of money on this blue dress. Chiffon. That was a big deal because we bought most of my clothes at the thrift store. But I kept telling him it was a formal dance and the most important thing in the world.”
“Ah, to be fifteen again.”
“I was too embarrassed for Kyle to pick me up at the trailer, so I told him I’d wait by the main road. Crush—my daddy—wasn’t happy about it one bit. So I waited and waited, watching one car after the next drive by as the sun went down. Then Kyle’s yellow Mustang appeared at the end of the road. When it slowed to a stop, a girl in the passenger seat stared daggers at me. A couple of his buddies were crammed in the back, and that’s when I realized the whole thing was a joke.”
Christian scooted down the bed and began taking off my shoes. “Is that all?”
“They were laughing at me. He asked if I had really thought someone like him would take a loser like me to the dance. Then they called me trailer trash, and one of the girls made a remark about my dress being secondhand.”
“Shitebags.”
The second shoe dropped to the floor, and then he removed my socks.
“Yep. They turned around and yelled a few more nasty remarks before speeding off. So I went home crying like a little kid. Crush asked what happened, but I think he knew. I lived in the worst area of the city, but lucky me, we were just within the limits to go to that school. Most of the kids there were rich.”
Christian finally covered my legs with a fur blanket and sat back. “That’s a sad tale, Raven Black.”
I snickered. “That’s not even the beginning. Crush was pissed, and you didn’t get on his bad side without paying the price. I just wanted to go to my room and shut myself away, but he grabbed my makeup bag, called a few of his friends, and put me on his motorcycle.”
“For what?”
“Well, the first thing he did was call a good buddy of his with an eighteen-year-old son. Switch was a good-looking kid with long hair and a tattoo on his arm. Girls wanted to date him, and guys wanted to be him. I’d met him a few times at parties and picnics, but most of my father’s friends were like family, so I always thought of him as a cousin. He met us up at the school and walked in as my date. In retrospect, Crush did the right thing. He taught me to stand up for myself and give the world the middle finger. But at the time, I was still mortified and afraid to look those kids in the eye. They were popular, and I was just the girl from the wrong side of the tracks.” My eyes closed. “I thought the date was real. It’s not like I didn’t have friends, and Kyle was in my English class and sometimes smiled at me.”
“Kids are petty little bastards. If they don’t find one thing, they’ll find something else to single out others.”
“Well, every head turned when I walked in with Switch. I’d only ever seen him in jeans and muscle shirts, so when he showed up in a suit, my jaw hit the floor. Crush insisted that I point Kyle out to him, and I did on the condition that they left the building. Switch spoiled me. They must have paid him good money to be nice, because he was getting me punch and even dancing.”
“Your da’s a good man.”
I shifted my gaze and looked up. “But wait, there’s more. While I was inside, having the time of my life, Crush was up to no good. I spent two hours getting pictures and feeling like a princess, but when the dance was over, we walked outside and saw a row of bikers with their arms folded. That’s when I knew the night wasn’t over.”
Christian sputtered with laughter. “Did they beat up the little numpty? Jaysus.”
“No, as much as I’m sure he would have liked to, they were grown men and knew better than that. They showed up to support me and make sure that nothing happened after the dance. They might have also covered Kyle’s car with dog shit.”
Both of us erupted with laughter. It was the first time I’d ever seen Christian lose himself, and at one point, he went completely silent with his mouth open and eyes shut, tears streaming down his face.
“I can’t even begin to imagine where they got that much dog shit,” I continued, trying to catch my breath. “But he had trouble finding his precious yellow car in the parking lot. His friends bailed on him, and his car smelled like manure for the rest of the semester.” I laughed so hard that pain lanced down my shoulder. “God, I needed that laugh.”
Christian wiped his eyes as we settled down. “Now I see where you get your attitude from.”
I turned my attention to the fire. “My father wanted to show him what it felt like to be humiliated. I don’t know if it made a difference in the person he became, but it sure did with me. Crush taught me to be a strong woman and to never let anyone get the best of me. He didn’t want me to be ashamed of where I came from, and I struggled with that for years. That’s why I don’t make apologies for who I am now. It’s too bad I didn’t figure all that out until I got killed.”
Christian tilted his head to the side. “Some people still haven’t figured that out. Hate me all you want, but I make no apologies for who I am.”
“I never said I hated you.”
He laced his fingers across his chest. “What happened after that?”
“We drove home with an escort of about fifty bikers. I guess Crush was afraid I’d go back to my room and sulk, so we had a cookout. Barbecue, music, a few games of dominos on the picnic table. All the guys and their old ladies told me how pretty I looked.”
“And Switch?”
I gave him a one-sided grin without reply.
Christian rolled over and caged me with his arms. “You can’t leave me hanging. Did old Switch steal your virginity and make it a night to remember?”
I shoved at his bare shoulders. “You’re a pig.”
He waggled his brows. But when the playful look waned and his gaze traveled down to my lips, my body roared with tingles I hadn’t felt in a long time. My heart quickened, and he must have heard it, because he settled his body on top of mine.
Something electric was transpiring between us—an unstoppable force like a runaway train. I reached up and cradled his neck, my fingers tunneling beneath his dark hair. When my nails scored his nape, his eyes smoldered.
What am I doing? I need to stop before it goes too far.
“You have a cut on your head,” he pointed out. “And your cheek is scraped.”
The weight of him was sublime and familiar, as if we were right back in that motel room in Washington. I’d tried to forget about the blood sharing, but sometimes I thought about the taste of him—the sweet, decadent, enigmatic flavor of Christian Poe.
Did all Vampires taste as sinfully divine?
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I wasn’t thinking. My body was humming with desire, craving a man’s touch. A little voice was also reminding me that Christian was my partner, and if I craved a man’s touch, I needed to head over to the bar and find someone else.
His lips grazed the shell of my ear. “Do you want my blood?”
I felt myself trembling beneath him. Was that all it took to make me wet? To make my body flush with need?
“A few drops should patch you right up,” he continued.
Which deflated my balloon. Was this all in my head? Christian’s offer was to heal me. Otherwise, he would have kissed me by now.