BROKEN HEART: VISITOR’S PASS
A Boxed Set of Three Funny Forays into Broken Heart, Oklahoma
By Michele Bardsley
Copyright © 2014 Michele Bardsley
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the copyright holder.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement from the author of this work.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatever to anyone bearing the same name or names. These characters are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This book is also available in print.
ISBN: 14999583168
ISBN-13: 978-1499583168
Table of Contents
DEDICATION
THE EARLY GIRLS GETS THE BLOOD WOLF
VALENTINE’S DAY SUCKS
HARRY LITTLE, LEPRECHAUN
SOME LYCAN HOT
NAKED DISCLOSURE
BROKEN HEART & BROKEN ARROW BOOKS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DEDICATION
To the fans of the Broken Heart series. You are the true keepers of Broken Heart, Oklahoma and its residents. Thank you.
THE EARLY GIRLS GETS THE BLOOD WOLF
“NO! NOT NOW,” I ranted as the battered CRX coughed, sputtered, and died. I coasted onto the gravel shoulder of the two-lane road, braking to a smoldering stop. In the twilight and through belching smoke, I read the big, official sign that said: ROAD ENDS 3 MILES.
“So, this is where it all ends,” I muttered. “Good to know.”
I shoved open the door and heaved my tired butt out of the tiny car. I was exhausted. I couldn’t think about what to do next. There was nothing and no one nearby. And that suited me just fine. It meant less chance of getting tracked. Of getting caught. And, in hindsight, less chance of gas stations, roadside assistance, and diners. My stomach growled; a reminder that my last meal had been a granola bar and tepid bottled water. For breakfast.
It was late August. Voluminous gray clouds rippled across the purple sky, threatening one helluva storm. A breeze brought with it the scents of honeysuckle and road dust, but it wasn’t strong enough to alleviate the humidity. My clothes stuck to my skin and every breath felt like inhaling water.
I leaned against the car and stared at an endless field, not a tree or a cow in sight. Yep. Oklahoma sure seemed filled with a whole lot of nothing.
“Can I help you?”
The French-accented male voice startled me. I took a moment to gather my composure. Someone out to do me harm wouldn’t necessarily waltz up and announce himself. Stupid, Meckenzie. Really stupid. I was an easy take-down lolling here so I could throw myself a pity party.
Slowly, warily, I squared my jaw and turned. I scowled at a very tall, very buff, very gorgeous man with moonlight hair and unnaturally gold eyes. He was so pale—I swear that his skin was made from paper. He wore a jeweled blue dress shirt tucked into black pants. His shoes were also black—Giorgio Brutini dress boots, if I wasn’t mistaken. Hmm. No bike and no car. Where had he come from? And how had he snuck up on me?
He stared at me. And I stared back. Shoot. I was stubborn, but I was also practical. My car was kaput. I was starved and weary. He was the only help for miles. And if he was a serial killer … well, hell … I’d faced worse. I looked at him. Something about him was—off. I couldn’t pin down exactly what.
Finally, he said, “I’m Ren Marchand.”
“I’m Meckenzie,” I said.
“Meckenzie…?”
“Yeah.” I ignored his hint for a last name. “You’re one of the few people I’ve met who pronounce it right.”
“It’s Gaelic,” he said. “Mec instead of Mac, right? It means ‘daughter of a wise leader.’”
“That’s right. My mother had a sense of humor.”
He waited, presumably for me to clarify that statement, but I didn’t. The silence went on, as if he had the patience of the ages. Maybe he did. Once again, I gauged his muscled build and warrior gaze and designer clothes. Patient, sure. And predatory. I knew that attitude well enough.
“I’d appreciate a lift into town,” I said.
“I can arrange a ride for you to Tulsa.” He nodded toward the car. “I will make sure it is repaired and returned to you.”
Yeah, right. It wasn’t my car, so it didn’t matter if it was repaired and returned to me. I had planned to abandon it, anyway. “Look, dude, I’m tired and I’m hungry. The entire state of Oklahoma is under construction, especially the roads. I bet there’s a Motel 6 nearby, right? And a Denny’s. Every town has a Denny’s.”
He offered no response. Instead he withdrew a silver phone from a holder clipped to a belt loop, flipped it open, and punched in a number. “It’s Ren.”
He walked away and carried on the conversation out of my earshot.
Well, he could make all the plans he wanted. I’d started down this road, figuratively and literally—and there was no going back.
“Your ride is on the way,” said Ren in a low voice. That flutter of French in his voice was damned sexy. He stepped close to me, his gaze curious, but wary. Wow. He was, to coin the phrase of an annoyingly perky TV chef, yumm-O.
His gaze meandered along my low-cut top, a pink, ivory-lace-edged Wheels & Doll Baby. Its bejeweled velvet ribbon drew attention to the wearer’s cleavage, which I had plenty of thanks to genetics and a push-up bra. Ever hear that saying, “dress for success”? Well, I dressed to distress … and to distract.
His stare dipped from my Double D’s to the tattered jean shorts I wore. Then he explored my bared legs all the way to my pink-polished toes. I wiggled the digits and said, “I hate to wear shoes.”
Ren’s head snapped up and for an instant, my heart stopped. Lust beat like a raven’s wing in his gaze, the heat of it so intense I nearly turned to ash. Instead of reaching for that divine misery, I cocked a hip and glared at him. “You ever heard of personal space?”
He moved back, his expression far from apologetic, and crossed his arms. “You are not scared of me.”
“No.” I poked my chin out.
“Perhaps, Meckenzie,” he whispered in voice designed to melt steel—or a girl’s insides, “you should be scared.”
“I know what fear is,” I told him. “And honey, you ain’t it.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. That hint of a smile wedged lust into my core. I knew the power of lust. It glittered like fool’s gold, offering so much and delivering so little.
My entire being went cold, and my hair stood on end. Shit. Not now. Not here. Ren seemed to sense the sudden change in atmosphere, too. He straightened, his gaze tracking the surrounding area. I resisted the urge to move closer to him. No matter how bad-ass he was, he couldn’t protect me from Ena.
The chill weaving along my skin turned to ice needles, sharp and gelid. I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. Panic skittered in my belly.
“What’s wrong?” Ren asked. His hands wrapped around my shoulders and he hissed. “You’re freezing! Your lips are blue.”
“H-happens every time,” I managed. My teeth chattered uncontrollably. I felt as if every drop of warmth had seeped out of me. M
y heart strummed a harsh beat. “We n-need to go.”
Ena’s minions had found me. They were close, too.
“Il y a quelque chose qui cloche,” he said in a low, worried voice. He looked at me. “What are those things?”
“You see them?” I asked.
He nodded. We stared at the undulating black shapes a few feet away. Wrapping an arm around me, he held me close. I knew with a sudden, crazy certainty that Ren would protect me. He didn’t owe me squat, but here he was, putting his safety before mine. Such a terrible kindness he offered—and the burden of it made tears crowd my eyes.
The shadows hissed and scuttled backward, but were not sufficiently cowed by Ren’s presence to dissipate. I shuddered and quaked, my skin tinted gray from the freezing cold that always accompanied the evil bastards. Then, the cold fell away like a discarded coat, and with it, the last of my energy. I sank to my knees, swaying … then crumpled onto my side.
“Meckenzie!”
I tried to raise my head, but it ached too fiercely. I moaned, unable to even lift my arms.
My vision grayed. Ren’s face drew close, alarm flaring in his gold eyes.
“Crap,” I managed.
Then darkness claimed me.
“SHE’S PRETTY,” SAID a woman’s voice tinted with a French accent.
“Yes,” agreed Ren. “And she is also trouble.”
The woman laughed. “Maybe you need some trouble, brother. You are becoming too much like Damian.”
“I still have a sense of humor,” he said, obviously offended.
I debated about pretending I was still asleep. Meh. I wasn’t one to hide—if I had been, I might not have gotten onto Ena’s bad side—not that she had a good side. Gee, if I had time for personal growth issues, I might add “learn to stay put and shut up” on my list of behaviors to modify.
“Hi,” I croaked as I opened my eyes.
“Welcome back,” soothed the woman. “I’m Anise.”
Dressed in a white pant suit, Anise looked like a nymph who’d stolen clothes so she could cavort as a mortal. Pale as moonlight, her skin seem carved from flawless white marble. Her waist-length hair was the color of new lace. Her gold eyes made her seem otherworldly.
Like her twin.
“How are you feeling?” asked Ren.
I turned my head to look at him. The sizzling connection between us held firm. Oh, lawd. Lust was a terrible, beautiful thing. “Freaking great,” I muttered. Pain throbbed in my temples and my mouth felt filled with sand. “May I have some water?”
Anise left, presumably to fulfill my request. I looked around the room. It was tiny, white, and smelled like antiseptic. I’d been tucked into a twin-sized hospital bed; the metal railing had been left down.
“It’s a mobile medical facility,” said Ren. “It was closer than the hospital.”
“Oh.”
Anise returned with a plastic cup filled with water. Her gaze skated over Ren and she turned a knowing glance to me. Oh, no, sister. I was not in the market for a man. But sex … now that was something else altogether.
I slowly sat up and took the cup she offered. “Thank you.” I gulped down half the liquid. “Did someone run me over with wheat thresher?”
“You don’t look worse for wear,” she said, smiling. “But I’m sure you feel like shit.” Her gaze filled with concern. “Why were the shadows after you?”
“You saw them, too?”
She nodded.
I considered lying. But it wasn’t fair to reward their help with anything less than the truth. Well, the truth Meckenzie-style. Besides, my time was almost up. I put the cup onto the little metal table next to the bed. “I pissed off a very powerful witch named Ena.”
Ren and Anise shared a look, and then both pinned their gazes on me.
“What did you do?” asked Ren.
“I stole something from her,” I said baldly. “In my defense, it was a paid gig. I went in, did my thing, delivered the item to the buyer, and picked up my cash. Next thing I know, I’m being slammed against an alley wall by creepy shadows, and Ena’s in my face giving me the do-this-or-die speech.” I huffed out a sigh. “Seven days to track down and get back what I took, or she ends me. It’s day six, if you’re interested.”
“If she’s such a powerful witch,” said Anise, “then why can’t she find the…” She trailed off and blinked at me. “You know about witches? Real witches?”
“My mother was a friend to parakind,” I said. “So, yeah, I know all about you guys.” I paused. “Except you two are weird. Vampires, or not?”
“Loup de sang,” said Anise.
“Blood wolf,” Ren translated.
“Wow. That’s … er, new.” It wasn’t like I kept track of the supernatural. I was usually too busy watching out for my own ass. I’m not saying I got into trouble a lot, but my two best friends were a bail bondsman named Leo and Kathryn, an FBI agent. Let’s just say we kept each other in business, okay?
I was feeling somewhat better. The pain in my head had receded and my body didn’t feel so clammy. “You don’t seem too broken up about my profession.”
“In this town?” asked Anise. She laughed. “You are almost boring.”
“Well, no need to insult me,” I said, grinning. I hesitated. Oh, hell. The jig was up. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know where I was, or that I’d had every intention of getting here. “Actually, I was coming to Broken Heart to look up an old friend of my mother’s.”
Anise smiled carefully, and, if I wasn’t mistaken, her gaze held a wee bit of suspicion. “It’s not a coincidence you ended up near our borders?”
I shrugged. “I had to do a little tracking.” It wasn’t the kind of tracking that used a computer and Google. I wasn’t sure how much to reveal. As nice as they’d been … well, I still didn’t really know them. If Mom taught me anything, it was to be open to the good and look out for the bad. Darkness lurks in the brightest of places, Meckenzie.
“Who are you looking for?” asked Ren.
“Her name’s Brigid.”
“Your mother is a friend to Brigid?”asked Anise in a voice filled with awe.
“Uh, yeah. Mom said Brigid owed her a solid and if I ever needed it, I could call in her marker.”
“Your mother will not collect her own debt?” Ren’s gold gaze went as cold as an Oklahoma ice storm.
“She died five years ago,” I said. “So Brigid’s favor belongs to me now.”
Ren’s lips tightened into a thin line. Well, so much for the possibility of doing the mattress mambo. French guy had the kind of morals I found irksome.
“What did you steal from the witch?” he asked.
“A gem the size of a coconut. Ruby, I think, except it had all this gold marbling. It wasn’t as heavy as I thought it would be. Well-guarded, too—with dudes and tech.”
“How’d you get it?” His gaze latched onto mine, and I felt my stomach dip. Why’d he have to be so gorgeous? It’d be easier to ignore all the judgment in his tone.
“Trade secret,” I offered with a winning smile. “I’m the best thief in the business.”
“But not the smartest one.” He raked me with a look I couldn’t quite figure out then he nodded to Anise and … left. I blinked at the door he closed, and turned my gaze to Anise.
“He’s a fun guy,” I said, my ego unaccountably wounded by his dismissal. I swung my feet off the bed, stood, and wobbled. Anise grabbed my shoulder and steadied me. “Thanks.”
“You tracked down Brigid to Broken Heart. How?”
I met her hard stare and sighed. What was the point of keeping all my secrets? What could they do that would hurt or frighten me? “I scried her location.”
“Scried?” Anise’s expression reflected skepticism and astonishment. “You are human, are you not?”
“It’s scrying,” I said, “not rocket science. Anyone who knows how to use a wooden bowl, water, and the right location crystal can do it.” Along with teaching me how to be an awesome
thief, my mother had also showed me a few supernatural skills. Yeah, I was human, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t use magical tools.
Ren re-entered the room, and his expression was thunderous. Anise took one look at his face, and then said, “I must go. Good-bye, Meckenzie.”
It sounded kinda formal and permanent, and that did not bode well. I wiggled my fingers bye-bye at her.
“I am to escort you to the compound,” said Ren. “Queen Patricia wishes to speak with you.”
Poor baby. As if I’d go anywhere with him so he could lock me up, or whatever the plan was. Oh, c’mon. I doubted the queen wanted a convo with me.
“What is this thing we have?” I asked. I put a hand on his arm, felt energy arc between us. He looked at me, and I knew he’d felt it, too.
“It is nothing.”
“Wow. Figured you for a lot of things, Ren,” I said, shaking my head and tsking. “But never for a liar.”
He went utterly still. Men. You could always hit their egos squarely if you questioned their honor, especially men like him. He looked at me and saw what I wanted him to: a sexpot thief with a bad attitude. He was attracted to me, and it pissed him off.
He moved aside, gesturing for me to walk ahead of him.
“Fine,” I said. “Whatever.”
The next room was small, set-up like an office. It was empty. I saw the exit to the left. Ren’s hand grasped my elbow as I opened the door and jumped over the two extended metal steps.
“Baphomet!” screeched a woman’s voice. I barely had time to register the half-circle of white-robed figures before the first sacrificial knife entered my left shoulder. The tiny blade lodged just below my collarbone. I wrenched it out. Pain whipped through me, but I gritted my teeth against the stinging waves.
“Ena,” I said, tossing the knife into the air and catching it by the handle. “You’re early.”
Ena’s black gaze burned with unholy light. She touched the tiny silver daggers lining the belt around her hips, and smiled. Wow. Can you say evil bitch?
Broken Heart: Visitor's Pass (Paranormal Boxed Set) (Broken Heart Paranormal Series Book 0) Page 1
