by Dannika Dark
He pushed the door open a crack. “What?”
“My name. It’s Sadie.”
***
When Adam returned to Northern Lights, he was surprised to find the guitar still propped against the wall. Maybe because it was next to a pile of trash near the dumpster no one had taken notice. He hoped by driving her van, she wouldn’t decide to leave on foot. Plus he didn’t think he could hold a guitar and drive a motorcycle at the same time. He didn’t notice anything special about the instrument—it was just a simple Gibson six-string with a few dings on the face and a heart drawn on the back with a marker. Adam walked to the parking lot to check on his motorcycle before heading back to the motel.
He cut off the engine and sat quietly in the van, amused by her quirky lifestyle. From her cowboy boots and feminine dresses to the vintage van with the giant steering wheel—everything about Sadie fascinated him. He glanced at the guitar on the floorboard to his right. Why would anyone call something so cheap and beat up irreplaceable? Adam had sold all his cameras with the exception of two. They had dings and scratches, but he’d never put anyone’s life at risk to retrieve one. You move on and you get one that’s newer, better, and not so damaged.
Dirt and blood stained her turquoise dress, so Adam figured she’d want to change clothes. He got out and opened the side door, rummaging around until he found a duffle bag with some clean clothes neatly folded inside it. He grabbed the neck of the guitar in his right hand and headed up the stairs. The lights were off in the room, so he quietly opened the door and propped the guitar against the wall.
The beds were empty.
He tossed his keys on the table disparagingly with a swing of his arm and leaned against the closed door. Had he really expected a girl who’d been assaulted by three men the night before to be eager to hang out in a motel room with a stranger? The guitar had been a ruse to get rid of him.
The bathroom door clicked open and Sadie stood in the open doorway wearing a terrycloth robe, squeezing the ends of her damp hair. She switched off the light, but the outdoor lamppost filtered through the window and allowed him to see shapes.
“Did you bring something to eat?”
It caught him off guard to see her and he tripped over his words. “Shit. I knew I forgot something. Be right back.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’m not famished or anything. My lip is too sore for me to enjoy eating,” she said, shuffling back to the bed. “I’m going to flip on the light so I can see who you are.”
His heart stammered. She called him Scratch and he assumed it was because she could see his scars in the dim room.
“Uh, maybe that’s not such a good…”
Click.
The light illuminated the room and she rubbed her eyes. Sadie had propped herself up against two oversized pillows stuffed behind her back. Adam didn’t want to frighten her, so he spun around and gripped the doorknob.
“I’ll pick up some burgers.”
“Please don’t leave me alone. I like having someone around to talk to for a change.”
He stood motionless, facing the door.
“We can order a pizza if you’re hungry, but don’t put yourself out to feed a scrapper like me.”
“I’d hardly call you a scrapper,” he said to the door.
“Are you a smoker?”
He lifted his eyes, staring at the peephole. He hadn’t expected her to be so random. “Yeah. Lately.”
“You should quit. It’s a sign of a weak man. You don’t seem like a weak man to me.”
“You judge a man’s character by what he puts in his mouth?”
“Absolutely. Everything you consume feeds your soul. Food, alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, anger—all of it. Everything we ingest one way or the other either cleanses or pollutes who we are. I used to smoke and I quit about a year ago. It’s tough, but maybe these are the things that test how strong we are. So… are you going to turn around? I want to see the hero who saved my life.”
“What makes you so trusting?”
“Because I woke up safe. You cleaned my face and took off my boots to make me comfortable. I found a cup of water on the bedside table, and those men had torn the buttons off the top of my dress, but I found a safety pin holding the front together when I went into the shower. Maybe I don’t know you, but I know enough to recognize a good guy when I see one. So, let me get a look at you.”
Adam took a deep breath and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, slowly turning around.
She was more than beautiful—Sadie was pure innocence. The lamp between the beds cast a subtle glow on her smooth complexion and sparkling eyes. You couldn’t look at this woman and not feel desire, and it had more to do with the way she looked back at you—the way she seemed to be more alive and in the moment than most people. Despite how he’d found her bleeding in the dirt, this girl had an unbreakable spirit.
A smile pushed the apples of her cheeks up and she squeezed a few droplets of water from her hair. “Nice to meet you, Scratch.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek. “My name’s Adam. Maybe a girl who makes fun of a man’s scars shouldn’t judge someone for smoking a cigarette.”
Her jaw went slack and the smile faded away. “Um, what?”
“Scratch. You keep calling me that.”
She breathed out a soft laugh. “Of course I do. It’s how we first met.”
Adam peeled away his coat and slung it over the chair. “Is that so,” he murmured.
“I never forget a voice. It’s a thing I have—maybe a gift or maybe nothing at all. When you spoke to me earlier, I remembered you from the club a few months back. I bumped into you and dropped my guitar. It wasn’t just an accident; I was chickening out and ready to leave. God, I was so nervous. It was my first time on that stage and if I hadn’t crashed into you, then I wouldn’t have found the courage to get up and sing. Sometimes you need a minute to just breathe and get your head together. I noticed a scratch on your boot. Probably the ones you’re wearing right now,” she said, peering over the bed.
Adam lowered his eyes to his motorcycle boots and glanced at the left one, which had a deep cut on the side.
“So you’re the guy with the scratch on his boot who kept me from running away from my dreams.”
What could he say to that? The girl left him damn near speechless. Adam stalked toward the bed nearest him and sat on the edge, dialing the phone. After ordering a supreme pizza, a two-liter bottle of soda, and an Italian salad, he brought Sadie her duffle bag.
“Thought you could use some clean clothes.”
“Thanks,” she said in a sullen voice, unwinding one of her thin braids. The lock of unbound hair held a strong wave.
“You sure you’re okay? I could take you to a hospital. I should have taken you, but…”
“But you’d get in trouble,” she finished. “No need to explain. I can tell you’re a Mage.”
If it weren’t for the idiot singing next door, he could have heard a pin drop.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said.
She had almond-shaped eyes and perfectly arched brows, just as light as her hair. When Sadie looked up at him, he held her gaze.
“I’m no stranger to your world—I’ve been living in it for years. I can always sense a Mage when you’re not holding in your energy. It feels kind of like… I don’t know… like the little hairs on my arms are charged up or something. I’m sensitive to it now. I used to think nothing of it whenever I got chills but I wasn’t cold. Now I know it’s one of you causing that reaction, but most people have no idea a Mage is in the room with them. They just get the shivers and brush it off. Vampires and Chitahs are easy to spot, but forget about Shifters. Those guys blend in, except for the dominant wolves. Half the time I just mistake them for assholes.”
A laugh burst out of his mouth. He could hardly get it under control and turned his head to the side. “You’re full of surprises, Kitten.”
“Kitten? Since when do I have a nickname?”
“Since y
ou started calling me Scratch?” He decided not to tell her it was because she made mewing noises in her sleep.
She unzipped the bag, sifting through a few garments. “Mind if I stay here tonight? I can head down to the van if—”
“You stay here.”
It wasn’t a request or an offer. If she’d even attempted to walk out the door, Adam would have thrown her over his shoulder and carried her back to the room.
“Thanks. Feels good to cozy up in a real bed, and it’s been a harsh winter.”
A knot formed in his stomach. “How long have you been homeless?”
She slid her legs off the bed to put on a pair of sweatpants and he turned away.
“Maybe three months. If you want to know the short and skinny, I had a relationship that went south and this guy took me under his wing. He was a Mage and said he’d help me find a job. The cost of living is high in Cognito, so I agreed. I didn’t know about the Breed until he told me, and what a trip that was,” she added. “He seemed really honest at first, but I found out he wanted something in exchange. It didn’t take long before he began asking for sexual favors. I’m not that kind of girl, so I left him.”
“And started living in your van?”
“Bingo. He’s been following me ever since, and that’s why I go by Jasmine in the clubs. He recently saw my picture up on a flyer and found out I was playing at Northern Lights.”
Something didn’t mesh. “Why would he care about helping you out? I don’t mean it like that, but you’re just a human.”
“Uh-huh. He was um…”
She sat down and Adam heard the covers rustling around. When the bed creaked a little, he stole a glimpse and saw she had dressed herself in a white T-shirt.
“He was a juicer,” she admitted. “I think he got his bigger doses elsewhere, but sometimes he just wanted a tiny hit off my energy, especially before he went out on business meetings. I let him because it just made me a little weak, but it didn’t hurt. It’s not like we were having sex.”
Adam’s fingers clenched into fists. Taking someone’s light was an intimate act. It wasn’t the same as sharing sexual energy, but you could feel that person’s light within you. Damn right that asshole was taking advantage of a girl who didn’t know better.
“Don’t do that with anyone again,” Adam said, rising from the bed. He kicked off his boots and dropped them in the corner of the room by the bathroom.
“Why not?”
“They get addicted to not just the high, but to you. Everyone’s light tastes different. That explains why he’s still looking for you.”
“Oh, great. Why didn’t anyone tell me this?”
He glanced over his left shoulder when she angrily pounded her elbows into her pillow. Then she hissed and rolled over, turning her back to him.
Adam walked across the room and knelt by her bed. “What’s wrong?”
“My face hurts.”
“Let me see.”
She slowly rolled onto her back and swept her wavy hair away from her face. The cut on her lip had reopened and a bright bubble of blood smeared across her chin. Adam reached in the drawer where he kept a stack of napkins and folded one up, then held it in front of her mouth.
“Lick it.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Just lick it.”
A laugh bubbled from her throat and she murmured, “That’s uh, quite a pickup line you got there, Scratch.” She poked out her tongue and dampened the end of the napkin.
Adam held it to her lip and leaned in, assessing the injuries on her face. All the while, her eyes explored the marks on his face. Then she lifted her hand and brazenly ran her finger along the jagged line that ran down his forehead on the left side.
He froze and his heart began to thump wildly in his chest.
No one had ever touched his scars.
Her finger felt calloused from playing the guitar. It wandered across his eyelid and then she trailed the path of another along his right jaw. Sadie finally retracted her hand.
“You’re a handsome man.”
Fire burned his cheeks. Adam rose to his feet and sat at the table, going through the money in his wallet.
“Just wanted to lay it out there that it doesn’t bother me that you have marks on your body. It’s a story, and maybe not one you want to talk about, but I just felt like telling you the truth so you wouldn’t get the wrong idea about why I touched you just now. You’re handsome. I’ve always loved men with brown eyes and thick hair. Never seem to end up with them,” she said with a chuckle.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as easygoing and upbeat as you,” he finally said, struggling not to sound judgmental. “You were brutally attacked last night and almost raped, and you’re sitting there trying to lift my spirits.”
The air stilled and Adam abruptly looked up.
Sadie covered her face with one hand and wept.
He cursed under his breath and walked between the beds. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”
“I was stupid for not parking out front. I’ve always been safe, but I was running late when I got there and couldn’t find a spot. They just rushed me out of nowhere.”
“You okay?”
Sadie didn’t answer. He sat on the edge of her bed and touched her chin, turning her head to face him. The bleeding in her lip had stopped. “Did they do anything to you before I got there?”
Sadie shook her head and sniffed.
“I shouldn’t have let them walk away.”
“I’m glad you did. It’s what the better man does, and you’re the better man.”
Adam leaned back. “You don’t know what I’ve done in my life to say something like that.”
“I knew it the moment we met. You could have been a jerk and stepped over me, but you didn’t. I can hear it in your voice beneath all the growling and attitude.”
“I don’t have an attitude.”
“You so have an attitude.”
His eyes fell to her lips and he hated seeing that cut because Sadie had bitable lips. The kind a man could kiss and suck on and then nibble just a little bit. The thought was extinguished when he realized she would probably have a scar to remind her of that night.
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black, Kitten. Why don’t you lie back and rest until the food comes. You don’t have any family I can call?”
“Um, no. That’s the one thing I don’t have.”
“No family?”
“Haven’t you heard? It’s a hard-knock life.”
She yawned and after a few long blinks, Adam reached over to the wall and switched off the lamps. He left one turned on low, providing just enough light so he could see.
“Let me know when the pizza comes,” she murmured. “I’ll get up and help you clean off the table.”
“How ’bout you stay right here in the bed and eat?”
Words he’d thought he’d never say. He was brought up to eat at the table and it’s something he’d carried through most of his life. His mother used to say that anyone who resorted to eating in bed was no better than a pig, that despite your living conditions, you should rise above and show dignity.
“You ordered a supreme,” she mumbled, falling asleep.
Adam liked the sound of her sleepy voice.
“So you’re a pepperoni girl, is that what you’re telling me?”
A smile ghosted her lips. “I don’t like onions.”
He reached over and switched off the light, his voice falling to a whisper. “I’ll pick them off for you. Go to sleep.”
Chapter 11
After two hours of sparring with Justus in the training room, I dragged myself into the shower. Justus hadn’t liked discovering that I’d been withholding my powers. I knew my light was strong, but I still didn’t have a full grasp of my abilities. And I sure hadn’t liked being yanked away from the dinner table in front of our guests so I could hit the mat with a drill sergeant.
Lo
gan remained upstairs, caring for Finn. It was surreal to imagine they would be temporarily living with us, although the offer sounded permanent. I had my doubts—Justus could barely tolerate living with me. I wanted to talk to Logan about his thoughts because he didn’t seem like the type of guy who could live under another man’s roof.
I stepped beneath the hot spray of water and opened my mouth, letting the rush of clean water beat against my face. My muscles ached from our session, but I’d walked away unscathed. Justus had tried showing me how to ball up my energy and concentrate it into a single burst of movement, a skill he had mastered but one I was too exhausted to learn after the fiasco at dinner with blasting him to the floor in front of company.
I lathered my hair with my favorite coconut conditioner and before I knew it, I was singing “What’s New, Pussycat?” by Tom Jones. Usually I preferred Elton John, but sometimes I just sang the first thing that popped in my head. I couldn’t carry a tune—my ex had made a point of telling me to shut the fuck up while beating on the bathroom door.
Justus might not have liked my singing, but he never mentioned it. Christian, on the other hand, never missed an opportunity to bring it up in conversation.
I had hit the chorus, singing I love you, when an unexpected noise in the room startled me. The opaque shower curtain revealed a silhouette of a man like a stalker in a horror movie. I covered my chest and stood motionless as he moved closer and stopped at the edge of the tub.
“I love you too, Little Raven,” Logan said with an amused chuckle.
All I could make out was the shape of him. His fingertips touched the curtain, trailing down. I stepped as close as I could, knowing he couldn’t see me and yet wishing he would rip it away and end this charade of modesty.
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked.
“Long enough to know I need a cold shower when you’re done. I can smell you,” he said in a lustful voice that implied he scented more than my shampoo.
His hands pressed harder against the curtain until they met with the soft curves of my breasts. His fingers outlined my nipples and his face came close enough that I could see the shape of it.
