Cohen

by Emilia Hartley

  Nova smiled. “I am. But I couldn’t just pass by without coming in to get a kiss.” He smacked her ass. She grinned over her shoulder at him. “But I don’t work tomorrow. Dinner and a movie?”

  “Sure.” Gesturing for him to follow, she pushed through the swinging door to the front of the bar. She knew the smile on her face was goofy as hell, but somehow, she couldn’t find it in her to care.

  “No unauthorized personnel behind the bar,” Mitch called, seeing Nova behind her. Amara smirked. She and Mitch may have been getting along again, but he never missed a chance to screw with Nova. It would be pretty funny if it wasn’t so annoying. He had never behaved like that before. “Oh, give it a rest, Mitchell. He’s just passing through to say hi.”

  “Last I checked, he can say hello from the front of the bar just as well.”

  Rolling her eyes, Amara chucked a wet cloth at him. Mitch deflected it, and it ended up flying into Zoe’s face.

  “Hey!”

  Amara burst out laughing. Even Mitch’s lips turned up at the corners. Glancing at Nova, she found him trying his best not to laugh. It looked like he was biting his cheek to fight the urge.

  “What the hell, Amara?” Zoe cried, outraged. She flung the rag down on the table with a satisfying slap.

  “Hey, now, don’t look at me. I threw it at Mitchell. He’s the one who tossed it at you.” When Zoe merely glared at her, Amara chuckled. “Relax, Zo. I’ll buy you a drink.”

  Nova wrapped his arm around Amara’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’ve got to go, babe.”

  She tipped her face up to kiss him, letting herself sink into all that was Nova. She could feel her heart pounding, feel the blood pulsing through her veins. No one had ever affected her the way he did. “See you tomorrow?”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  Amara beamed at him. She blew him a kiss and he headed for the door.

  “Well, look at you,” Sadie said, pushing through the door before he could leave. Nova stopped cold, staring down at Amara’s little sister. “So, you’re the one who’s been keeping my sister occupied these last few weeks, huh?” She looked him up and down, her arms over her chest and her lips pressed into a firm, thin line. Then she smiled slyly. “I suppose I can see why. Mom wants to meet you, by the way. You guys are expected at dinner on Sunday.”

  Nova blinked. Completely helpless, he glanced over his shoulder at Amara. Biting back her own laughter, she merely shrugged. Honestly, there was nothing she could do. When it came to her stubborn little sister, he was on his own.

  Nova glared at her. Then he sighed. “Uh, yeah, sure. Sunday.” Nova fidgeted uncomfortably. “I, uh, I guess I’ll see you then.” And before Sadie could corner him into attending more family functions, Nova fled.

  Amara couldn’t say she blamed him. Sadie was a force to be reckoned with, even on her bad days. When she was on her game, telling her no was damn near impossible.

  Amara poured a shot of vodka and set it on the bar in front of her sister. Sadie climbed up onto the stool. She took the shot and downed it in one gulp.

  “Was that really necessary?” Amara asked with a grin. As she expected, Sadie only shrugged unrepentantly. There was not one shred of remorse in her gaze. Nor had Amara thought there would be.

  “What can I say?” Sadie asked. “Mom wants to meet him. Besides, it’s my job as your sister to see what your new guy is made of.”

  “And?”

  Sadie pursed her lips, considering. “I like him. I guess he’ll do.” She tapped her glass for another drink. “Anyway, he’s freaking hot. Like scalding.”

  Amara poured her own drink and tapped her glass to her sister’s. “He is that.”

  “You’re a lucky woman.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  A man sat down next to Sadie. Amara flashed a smile without really looking at him. “What will it be, sugar?”

  “Make it a bourbon, sweetheart.”

  “Coming right up.” With practiced hands, she grabbed a glass, poured, and slid it over to him. “You opening a tab?”

  “Sure,” the man replied, and still, she barely looked at him. “Put it under Kal.”

  Amara froze, sure she hadn’t heard him right. Kal. Looking up, she met his gaze, and sure enough, it was him. Same tawny gold eyes, same russet auburn-brown hair as the man she’d seen with Nova the night they’d met. He had told her who it was, why they were fighting. She knew he had learned she was the one who had escaped his foul clutches. That he’d stalked her that night, intent on killing her. He would have succeeded, had it not been for Nova.

  Sound rushed through her ears like an oncoming train as the attack from her childhood played across her mind. She could still feel his teeth ripping into her shoulder, trying to get at her throat. She could feel the weight of him pressing down on her, suffocating her, forcing her to dispel any air she still had. She was dying a slow, agonizing death by asphyxiation while he was tearing into her flesh. Never in her life had she experienced such raw terror as she had that night.

  And it was all because of him.

  She had never truly hated anybody before. But she hated him.

  Kal smiled back at her, and it was a cold, cruel smile. Amara’s blood ran cold. He knew that she recognized him on some level. He knew, and he was enjoying it.

  The bastard.

  Amara forced a smile. She was still at work, after all. It would only give him what he wanted if she caused a scene. “Sure thing.”

  “So,” Kal said, turning to Sadie. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you from around here?”

  Sadie looked from Kal to Amara and lifted a brow with a quizzical grin. It was easy to see that she was pleased, and it was easy to see why, even if his pickup line had been a total cliché. Kal was like a golden Adonis. He was the light to Nova’s dark.

  The problem was that the guy was a murderous psychopath. And she did not want him messing around with her kid sister.

  Flirtatious now, Sadie dove into conversation with him, tossing her hair and playing coy like no one but Sadie could. She even let him buy her another drink. After a while, they took turns singing karaoke. They did a duet to Journey’s “Don’t stop believing.” Kal was surprisingly good. Sadie, of course, was perfect like always. Amara couldn’t count the number of choir solos the girl had scored throughout their childhood. She’d often wondered if she and her mother were the reason Sadie had never pursued a singing career or tried to grow her talents. Her voice was strong and rich. She even wrote her own songs. Yet, she insisted she was happy in Strathford.

  Amara didn’t believe a word of it.

  Mitch brought over a couple plates of food and set them in front of the empty stools. Amara frowned. “What’s this?”

  “The guys Sadie’s with ordered them dinner.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “She let him order for her? Fried bar food? Sadie?”

  Mitch laughed. “I know. I couldn’t believe it either. Still, here we are. Life is strange sometimes.”

  “It’s not so strange,” Amara grumbled darkly, glaring at Kal on stage. “Not if someone has a smooth tongue and knows what they’re doing.”

  Concern passed over her boss’s face. “You okay, Mara?” He followed her gaze to where Sadie and Kal were stepping down from the stage. “You’ve never had a problem with Sadie flirting with bar guys before. What gives?”

  She couldn’t tell him truth; that Kal was a shifter that had tried to rip her throat out. Twice. Not only would it betray Nova to do so, but who would believe her? Even Mitchell, who she used to be able to tell anything, would write her off as nuts. However, forcing a smile and pretending she was okay with a sociopath hitting on her sister—ordering for her as if she were a helpless child—was making her sick to her stomach.

  Amara shook her head. “Nothing. He just gives me bad vibes, is all.” She tried to shrug it off, but she knew Mitch was watching her. She could still see him from th
e corner of her eye. He’d always trusted her instincts. At least now she knew he would be keeping an eye on Sadie, too.

  Breathless, Sadie sat back down and grinned at her big sister. “So? What did you think?”

  “The two of you should be on Broadway,” Mitch crooned, snaking a fry from Sadie’s plate. She slapped his hand. “You put the rest of us amateurs to shame.”

  Sadie laughed, beaming at Mitch and Kal. She took the drink Kal had ordered and sipped it. “Damn right we do. And don’t you forget it.”

  Mitch grinned. “I would never.” But he shot Amara a look that Sadie didn’t see, and she knew he noticed the greedy way Kal was watching her.

  She didn’t like it one bit.

  “Do you know who I am?” he asked quietly when Sadie entered into conversation with another of the regulars. Kal leaned in over the bar towards her. Shameless, he plucked a fried zucchini chip from Sadie’s plate and popped it in his mouth.

  Amara stared at him, her face professionally pleasant, but she knew her eyes were as cold as stone. “You’re a paying customer at Murphy’s Tavern, sir. What more do I need to know?” I know you’re an asshole, she thought. I know you tried to kill me. And if it’s the last thing I do, I will see you pay for what you did to me.

  With her sunniest smile, she moved down the bar, doing anything she could to make herself look busy. From the corner of her eye, she caught Sadie’s pointed gaze. Amara gave just the slightest shake of her head.

  Sadie wasn’t satisfied. Excusing herself from Kal, she sidled down the bar and stood in front of Amara. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Mara.”

  Amara heaved a heavy sigh. “He’s not a good guy, Sadie. He’s dangerous.”

  Sadie frowned, Concerned, she glanced over her shoulder to where Kal sat. He seemed preoccupied with his food, but Amara could tell he was listening. She wondered vaguely if shifters had super hearing. She would have to ask Nova later. “He doesn’t look dangerous,” Sadie said. “Are you sure?”

  “Trust me.”

  “But how do you know?”

  Amara hesitated. How much could she reveal without revealing too much? “Nova told me.”

  “Your boyfriend knows him?” Her eyes widened, clearly intrigued. “How? From where?”

  Amara shrugged. “I don’t know where. Childhood, probably. Honestly, Sade, it doesn’t matter. Nova said he’s bad news, and I believe him.”

  The frown on Sadie’s brow creased deeper. “Well, I’m not sure I do. Besides, he already asked me out.”

  “He did?” Amara asked, with shock.

  “Yes, he did. He wants to take me dancing tonight.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Okay, don’t freak out.” Sadie held up her hands to ward her off. “But I said yes.”

  “Damn it, Sadie,” Amara muttered. The trickle of fear that came over her raised goosebumps on her skin. “I really wish you wouldn’t.”

  “I already said yes, Mara. It’s done. And he really doesn’t seem that bad. He’s got definite bad boy appeal, that’s for sure. But he’s charming.” Sadie grinned devilishly. “And he’s seriously hot.”

  “Fine.” Amara sighed again. “Just be careful, okay? You have your pepper spray?”

  “Of course, I do. And I’m armed. You taught me well.” With a wink, she got up and went back over to Kal. She placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear.

  Grinning, Kal rose and threw a few bills on the counter. “Tell your cook, dinner was delicious.” His tawny eyes were vengeful and cold. “And tell your boyfriend, I’ll see him again soon.”

  “Don’t worry, sis,” Sadie tried to reassure her. “Everything will be fine.”

  “Yeah, right,” Amara muttered as she watched her sister walk out the door with Kal. “I’m sure everything will be just peachy.”

  Chapter 15

  Amara was worried. How could she not be? Her little sister was out God knows where with the man—sorry, wolf—that had attacked her twice in the last ten years. He was the son of the very wolf that had murdered their father. Kal was the ring leader of the wolves that had been terrorizing Strathford over the last decade. He was bad news. But could she tell Sadie any of that? No, she absolutely could not.

  Don’t worry. Psh. She’d been worrying for the last three hours, and now it was the end of her shift. Only Zoe, leaning on the bar completely wasted, and a few other stragglers were left. Even from across the room, Amara could hear Zoe’s drunken attempts at seduction. Her words slurred as she all but purred at Mitch. Even though the two of them were casually dating, he looked uncomfortable. Amara couldn’t blame the guy. Zoe was a handful sober. When she got drunk, all her insecurities blazed through in vivid color.

  It was a shame, really.

  Amara had long ago accepted that she and Zoe would never again be friends like they once were. Too much had happened between them. After the attack, the three of them—Amara, Zoe, and Becca—had rallied together to help each other through the aftermath. More, they were helping Becca through it. Poor, sweet Becca. She was the one who had suffered the most physically. And yet, she was the most resilient of the three of them. She’d handled her disabilities with grace and poise. When she could have turned bitter, she had instead dedicated her life to the faith and helping other victims of wolf violence in the community. She was even engaged to the pastor’s son.

  If only the other girls had managed that well.

  Amara’s mom had been distraught. She’d lost her husband only three years earlier, and again, her loved ones had been targeted by wolves. The depression and incapacitating fear had set in again, leaving her almost helpless to her daughters. Even now, it was rare for Alice Townsend to step outside her yard.

  Sadie, who had been only twelve at the time, had crept into Amara’s room in the middle of the night for weeks. When the ache and the itching from her healing wounds would keep Amara awake, she would sometimes hear Sadie crying on the floor. Every time, Amara would ease herself over the edge of the bed, gather up her baby sister, and bring her back up onto the bed with her. She would lie there, with her good arm around Sadie, and sing to her the same songs and chants their father had sang them until she would finally drift off to sleep.

  It was those nights that bothered Amara the most. When her family’s pain was visible and raw. She never should have been out after dark. She had let them down, and she knew it.

  Her grandfather, of course, had been furious. For three whole days after she’d been released from the hospital, he’d refused to speak to her. Eventually, he’d progressed to grunts and monosyllabic responses until one day, when Amara had been walking to the kitchen after a particularly brutal cram session for school, he called her into his office.

  Her grandfather sat her down then and told her that if she refused to heed his warnings or respect his wisdom, she was damn sure going to learn how to defend herself. It was her grandfather that had taught her to fight. He showed her how to use a gun, how to wield a knife. She knew more about weapons and firearms than most of the men in town. Of that she was sure. And, eventually, she had let herself believe what she knew the moment that boy stood over her.

  All of her grandfather’s stories were real. From that night on, she and her grandfather were thick as thieves. She didn’t go out after dark without him again until the day he died. By then, she knew she could take care of herself.

  Zoe, on the other hand, hadn’t been so lucky. Her physical wounds had been superficial. A few scrapes, a nasty concussion. One bite mark on her back. The wolf that had attacked her first had knocked her out cold and moved on to Becca. Because of the lack of evidence, Zoe’s family refused to believe she should have been affected. They had dismissed her fear and depression as theatrics, claiming she was just looking for attention, when it had really been a cry for help.

  For some reason, whenever Amara had tried to help her, she’d only succeeded in pus
hing Zoe away until one night, right before graduation, the tension from the last couple years had finally culminated in blows. After that, they’d merely maintained the appearance of civility for Becca’s sake, even calling themselves friends for a while, but the truth was that they’d never really recovered.

  But it didn’t stop Amara from worrying about her.

  The door to the bar opened and she glanced up. Sam took the I.D. of the man walking in, and shrugged. “It’s almost closing,” she told the stranger. “Last call is in less than five minutes.”

  He offered her a small smile; almost like a grimace. “Just a whiskey please. On the rocks.” His voice was deep and smooth, and something about the cadence was familiar. Maybe it was because she’d been remembering the attack only moments before, but she was sure she knew him. But he couldn’t have been there. Unless…

  She could see the resemblance now. The stranger was taller than Nova, lankier, but they had the same general build and bone structure. His face, while sharper and a little more elegant than his brothers, had the same hidden feral aspects that she found so sexy with Nova. Dark eyes, defined jaw, high cheekbones, and all of it surrounded by a mane of lush, black hair. Now that she’d made the connection, the similarities between the two men were uncanny.

  Amara swallowed hard. “Nemoy?”

  For just a split second, his dark eyes widened in surprise, before his entire face fell into a scowl. “Damn it. He really did tell you everything, didn’t he?”

  She smiled shyly. “I’m afraid so.”

  Nemoy let out an exasperated laugh. “Figures. I never could get that kid to do as he was told when his mind was set on something. Damn him.” Irritated, Nemoy crossed his arms.

  “So,” Amara said after a few moments, trying to dispel the awkwardness, “what brings you in to Murphy’s?”

  “You, believe it or not.”

  “Me?”

  For a second, he concentrated on the hem of his jacket, as if he wasn’t sure what to say. Then he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. She smiled. She’d seen the exact same gesture from Nova at least a dozen times. If only Nemoy had come under better circumstances.