“But”—she looked at the shuttered windows— “it’s daylight.”
“Spaun can walk in the daylight, Amaya. With the exception of Darklings, all of Hell’s creatures can.”
Why didn’t Braile tell her? Why didn’t Michael? “He should’ve told me,” she ground out, angry and hurt.
“Yeah. Michael should’ve. The fact that he didn’t shows you what kind of ass he is.”
She wasn’t quite ready to call Michael and Braile asses in front of Bane, but agreed. “I won’t make that mistake again.” She pulled away and he let her go. So much for fixing the house up. She’d given up her apartment, saved what she wanted in a storage unit, and moved into a motel in Danville. Guess she’d be calling that room home sweet home for the foreseeable future. She rolled the magazine until it crinkled.
Bane plucked the magazine from her hands. He flipped through it and stopped at the first dog-eared page. “Is this what you want?” He pointed to a picture of a country kitchen with oak cabinets and chrome appliances.
“It doesn’t matter.” She reached for the magazine.
“May I?” He kept it.
Amaya shrugged and headed for the front door, then paused. “Are you okay?” She motioned to her forehead and neck.
Bane touched the scorched skin on his face and the side of his throat. A cagey grin spread across his face and desire banked in his red-rimmed gaze. “It will fade in a moment.”
Something low and warm tugged in her belly, anxiety mixed with relief that he was all right. “I’m going on patrol.”
She didn’t return until nightfall. Again, Bane waited on the porch as she got in her car and drove away.
12
Amaya sipped her beer and tossed a handful of pretzels into her mouth. Her gaze skipped around the room. If this was a slow night, she’d hate to see what busy looked like. When she arrived an hour ago, it was packed with patrons watching the Tigers game; it was tied in the fourth inning. More people trickled in as the night lengthened. Five men, two women. Six men, two women. Eight men, three women. Lots of testosterone, and not enough estrogen to counter balance.
The servers were all women, two behind the bar along the right side of the room, slinging drinks. Two were in the kitchen. The other two handled the tables. Professional, yet friendly is how Amaya would’ve categorized the staff. She thought about going to a club. The idea of some random guy grinding on her made her violent. The laid back, casual atmosphere of this place was nice.
“Here’s your dinner, and another brew. Enjoy. I’ll check on you later, okay?” Sophie, her waitress, set a plate of steak, french fries, and buttered corn on the table in front of Amaya.
Amaya cut into the meat. Her taste buds moaned at the juicy perfection. Lately, her diet consisted of deli meats and fast food. Either she was starving or this was the best steak she’d ever had. Or she’d forgotten the taste because steak wasn’t usually in her budget.
“What is a woman like you doing here all alone?”
Lost in gastric heaven, she hadn’t seen the man approach. Her radar always warned her of danger. Obviously, he wasn’t a threat. He’d been eyeing her for the better part of twenty minutes. Gathering his strength, she supposed. She smiled at him. He was a bit taller than her with a nice build. Her type, if she had to claim a type. Hipster with a tasteful plaid shirt and dry-cleaned jeans with...loafers? Who wore loafers with jeans? She couldn’t stop the image of him clad in black with shadows clinging and almost snorted the steak out of her nose at the absurdity.
“Hoping to meet a guy like you.” She used her steak knife to point to the empty seat opposite her and bade him to sit.
He held out his hand and introduced himself as Amaya stuffed a french fry into her mouth.
She licked her fingers clean and held out her hand. The guy didn’t hesitate. He had a strong grip that she liked.
He shifted his seat over and said, “You are a beautiful woman.”
She already knew that. At least he was sticking to the script. “Thank you,” she mumbled through a full mouth.
He liked to talk, so she let him. He told her all about himself—he was a law student— and asked a lot of questions about her, which she either deflected or ignored as she finished her meal, and ordered dessert and a cocktail. “Do you know how to play pool?” he asked as she planned on ditching him.
“Umm…” Did she feel like continuing this pointless conversation? Other than returning to her hotel room, it’s not as if she had anything better to occupy her time. “No. I don’t think I do.”
“Let me teach you.”
She followed him to a pool table in the back of the room. He went through the rudiments of the game. Taught her how to hold the cue as he leaned over her, his crotch to her ass while she hit the ball.
A fast learner with superior hand-eye coordination, Amaya beat him after the second game. “You’re no amateur,” he whispered in her ear. He wasn’t pleased with losing, but he still had a genial smile on his face. She could take him back to her hotel room, rock his world, and never see him again. Unfortunately, her libido wasn’t with the program, and hadn’t been with any program since meeting Bane. Just the thought of his name caused an uncomfortable tingle, which she brutally snuffed.
She had to remind herself that this guy was her type and to stop judging him by an UnHallowed yardstick. The guy was human. He couldn’t compare to Bane’s height, width, dangerous edge. He even smelled good. The last time she had sex was a year ago. Goodbye sex isn’t the greatest, especially when you know it’s the last time you’re going to see that person because he isn’t the one and you’ll end up hurting him. Or getting him killed.
He planted his lips on top of hers. It was a good kiss. Enough lips and even a bit of tongue. So why was she colder than a mackerel on ice?
Bane.
“Let’s leave. My place is a few blocks away.” He licked the shell of her ear.
Eww. Not cool when you weren’t horny and had just met the guy. “I don’t screw on the first date. Sorry.” She pulled away. That wasn’t completely true, but he didn’t need the knowledge of a scandalous night when loneliness got the better of her.
He pulled her back. “No problem. We can watch Netflix and chill.”
In other words, watch Netflix until he could get in her pants. “I’m gonna have to pass. I have to be somewhere at sunrise.”
His grip tightened on her wrist. “Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. It’s just a movie,” he said into her ear and nuzzled her.
Amaya’s heart slowed and her muscles tensed. She reversed the grip he had on her wrist and bent his hand back until he cried out and dropped to one knee. The bar went silent.
“Do you know what no means? I don’t think you do, so let me explain. When a woman says no it means back the fuck off or lose a part of your anatomy. I’ll be a lady and let you choose which piece of your hide you’re willing to part with.”
“S-sorry! S-sorry! S-sorry!”
“Too late to apologize.”
Tears welled in his eyes, yet his free hand balled into a fist. She added more pressure and he screamed as she cracked three bones in his wrist. Darklings died quietly. The sound of ashes falling, the only sound to signify their departure. Why did that random thought enter her mind? She had no intention of killing the guy, yet the temptation was there—a poisonous fruit whetting her appetite for the forbidden. Killing humans, even policing them, wasn’t her job. They had their own law enforcement for that. She wasn’t UnHallowed. One bite of that poisonous fruit and she’d be lost forever.
“That’s enough.”
Power rolled over Amaya’s skin, snapping whatever darkness she’d linked to. She released her wannabee lover and spun to meet the red-rimmed gaze of an UnHallowed.
13
“You were pretty handy bringing that douche to his knees.” Sophie plopped another beer in front of Amaya. “That drink is on me.”
“Thanks.” Amaya downed it in a long swallow.
&nb
sp; “That hold you used, I’ve practiced it next door at Maximum Effort, but you made it look so effortless. One quick flip of your wrist and he was on the ground. Good thing I was looking that way or I would’ve missed it.” She grinned wide enough to show all her teeth.
“You’re a little blood thirsty, aren’t you?” Amaya saluted the waitress with her beer.
Sophie’s smile faded like a storm overtaking a sunny day and she flipped her burgundy hair off her shoulder. “Yeah. A little.”
She had the look of someone who’d been hurt, badly, and hadn’t come out the other side yet. “What happened? Sorry, none of my business.” Amaya took another sip of her beer.
Sophie’s brow furrowed and dipped her head. She seemed a bit confused, but turned back after a deep sigh. “Don’t worry about the douche. Though, you don’t remember,” she mumbled under her breath, as if Amaya were slow and hard of hearing. She caught every mumbled word. “The douche left after you snapped his wrist. He won’t be back,” Sophie finished.
Amaya smiled. She noted the two UnHallowed sitting in the rear of the bar. The one with shoulder-length dark brown hair and scruffy beard had used his power to freeze everyone in the room. That power hadn’t affected her. Though Bane froze her that one time, it seemed she’d become immune to their freezing defense. Good, she never wanted to be that helpless again, but she’d keep that information to herself.
Sophie noticed the UnHallowed as well. She stared directly at the one sitting to the left of Scruffy. He beat Scruffy by five inches and at least fifty pounds of muscle. He had a mohawk, the shaved sides tattooed with some unknown language, while his coffee colored hair was pulled back in a queue. Add to that picture a scar traveling from the corner of his right eye, across his nose, to end on the left side of his mouth. The UnHallowed wouldn’t pose for GQ, but the hair, tats, and scars certainly heightened his serial killer vibe.
Suddenly the air shimmered around them and the entire area—seat, table, drinks, and men—vanished…until she shifted her head at an angle and they came into view. They were there, then they weren’t. No one else noticed.
Shadows pooled in the corridor behind their booth and another UnHallowed appeared. This one had wings! Fucking wings like Michael. Big, gray, fluffy wings. Body wise, he was the carbon copy of Mr. Mohawk, except for the wings and close cropped dirty blond hair.
“You can see them, can’t you,” Sophie’s whisper snapped Amaya out of her trance.
She shook her head. “No. I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” Wary awe entered her voice and she edged away. “You can see the UnHallowed.”
The word UnHallowed reverberated through the air. Amaya felt it travel through her skin and muscles to settle in her bones. In the mirror on the rear wall, every person, except for Sophie and Amaya, froze again.
“Oh, crap.” Sophie mouthed.
Multiple footsteps echoed behind Amaya. She stilled, not sure whether to pretend she could move, or out herself. She chose the latter and turned slowly to face the three UnHallowed.
“Who are you?” Scruffy asked.
Since they asked a question, they had to expect an answer. Waves of power buffeted her, pressing at her will. Instinct caused her to push back which earned her the crimson eyed stare from all three. No use pretending she was just an ordinary human now. Would every UnHallowed ask the who are you question?
“You first, UnHallowed,” she said to Scruffy. The tension ticked up a notch. None of them backed down. Her weapons were in her pockets. On a good day, she may be able to kill one UnHallowed. But three? Two of which were supersized, bigger than Bane. Amaya wasn’t delusional.
“Playing with us is not a good idea, human.” Gray wings scowled, earning a shark-like grin from Mr. Mohawk standing to his left.
“Do I look like I’m playing or afraid of any of you?” She took a sip of her beer.
Scruffy peered over her shoulder at Sophie. “Who is she?”
“I don’t know. I served her dinner and a few beers. I didn’t get her name.” Suspicion gave Sophie’s voice an edge it didn’t have before.
“Did she threaten you?” Scruffy asked Sophie. His concern for her wasn’t platonic. Possession was stamped all over his lean features.
Sophie shook her head. “We were just talking, having a casual conversation, when I noticed she could see you guys when she shouldn’t be able to.”
Amaya pulled out her wallet and paid for her meal in cash. “Nice meeting you, Sophie. Excuse me, gentlemen.”
She squeezed around the trio and sauntered out of the door. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know she had a tail. That meant she couldn’t go back to her hotel and she damn sure wasn’t going to lead them back to Bane.
Did he know them? Probably. Bad enough she had to deal with one UnHallowed. She didn’t need three more ganging up on her.
She made it to the parking lot when the trio stepped from the shadows. They moved like a unit, contained, controlled, although violence was only a heartbeat away...her heart beat. Nothing resided in their chest cavities that came close to the organ keeping her alive.
Savagery pulsed beneath a thin veneer of civility, plainly visible to those who chose to see it and not shy away from the intensity. But damn, it hurt looking at them. Their eyes were too bright, too hot, too frozen, the intensity beat her senses, set her teeth on edge. She wanted to scrub her eyeballs and run. She hated to admit Bane didn’t make her feel that way. Raw, alive, invincible, and vulnerable was all that registered when he looked at her.
The UnHallowed closed in, their intent clear. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not that she wanted to. Excitement bubbled up inside her gut.
“Did you really think we’d let you walk away,” Scruffy grunted.
Amaya shook her head. “No, but I was serious when I said you tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.” They had really good poker faces. She had no idea if they’d go for it or not.
A red Mercedes coup drove into the lot and parked in a reserved spot. A female climbed out of the car. Designer mini dress, platinum blond hair with the lower two inches dyed jet black, high heels, high maintenance. “What’s going on here?” she said to the UnHallowed, then saw Amaya. “Who the fuck are you?”
Wait a sec. Amaya knew the female from her bouncer days. “Aren’t you Scarla Weston, the MMA fighter?”
She paused and gave Amaya a closer appraisal. “I think I know you too. Dimi’s club. You were the bouncer there for a bit. Then you vanished. I thought something bad happened to you. I asked Dimi. He said he didn’t know anything.”
Amaya nodded. “Yeah. I bailed on him.”
“So, you two know each other?” Scruffy tipped his head to both of them.
Scarla shrugged and folded her arms. “We know of each other. What’s going on here?”
“She knows of us, Scarla,” Gray wings barked.
Scarla smirked. “She probably screwed Tahariél and he got careless. Wipe her mind clean and be done with it.”
Amaya placed her hands on her hips. If they couldn’t freeze her, she doubted they could mess with her mind, but just in case, she didn’t relish them trying. “None of you are screwing with my memories.”
Scarla chuckled. “You have some balls on you. This will be all over before you finish your next thought.” She tilted her head at the trio backing her up.
“Scarla, I’ve been trying to get into her mind for several minutes, and cannot,” Gray wings growled.
That earned Amaya a penetrating glare from Scarla. She walked up to Amaya, and got in her face. “I repeat the question. Who are you?”
A better question was how did Sophie and Scarla know the UnHallowed? How did they fit into their dark world? Amaya needed information to piece this puzzle together. She’d have to give a little to get a little. Not the route she wanted to go, but she would play the hand she got. “You tell me your story and I’ll tell you mine.” Not any of the important parts, but she would give them a nice fairy tale.
Sca
rla painted lips twisting artfully. “How about I start with the story of how I kicked your ass.”
Well, that went south quickly. Scarla had Amaya by four inches, the difference between her jackboots and Scarla’s stilettos. The MMA fighter took advantage of the difference by looming over Amaya. An intimidation tactic that would have worked on someone else. Scarla wanted a fight. She’d hopped out of her car already on edge regardless of the mini-dress and high heels. Amaya had no problem accommodating Scarla’s need because she had the same need. It had been too long since she hit something, killed something. Infants needed milk and a warrior needed a war.
And that’s what she was, a warrior jonesing for a hit. The only question, would she be fighting all of them? When she cracked the UnHallowed’s pet human, would they all jump in? Things could get bad if they did. Amaya eyed the UnHallowed trio, judging their interest in a girl fight.
“Are you looking for them to help? Well, they won’t help you because they want me to choke the truth out of you. I’m the lesser of four evils. While I’m only going to kick your ass, Chay”—Scarla pointed to Scruffy with the long brown hair— “would do you a kindness and kill you quickly. He doesn’t like women to suffer.” She pointed to gray wings. “Daghony would rip the soul out of your body and devour it while you still have enough life to see the event.” She hiked her thumb at the scarred, mohawked, UnHallowed. “Kushiél would keep you alive for weeks though, you’d pray for death within the first five minutes.”
Chay, Daghony, and Kushiél. “Thank you, Scarla, for filling in the blanks.” Amaya struck first. A right hook to Scarla’s jaw caught her by surprise.
Amaya flipped Scarla onto her back and got two more blows in, then Amaya went flying across the parking lot. She landed on a Mustang, denting the hood. Chay grabbed Amaya’s arm. She used the same hold she had on the guy in the bar, but this time, she followed through with a volley of fists.
Chay blocked the blows without delivering any of his own. He stood there and took it. “You can’t win, little girl.”
Only One I Want (UnHallowed Series Book 2) Page 7
