by Garren, Jax
He’d seen all of it. She’d reached for his cheek. Paul had turned, making it more than a friendly gesture. Hauk had repeated that reassurance ad nauseam to shore up his defenses against a tsunami of frustrated jealousy.
Jolie hadn’t backed away, though. As soon as she’d settled into Paul’s kiss, Hauk had almost walked out. Train-wreck syndrome had held his feet, though, until he found himself analyzing the embrace, like it could tell him things he desperately wanted to know. Was she still as enchanted with the singer as she had been last time Hauk had seen them together? Had Paul gotten his head screwed on straight enough to offer Jolie the exclusive relationship she wanted? Most importantly, which one of them did she like kissing more?
He probably didn’t want to know the answer to that.
There was no way Paul had offered her a relationship. If Paul had been treating Jolie right, Hauk was under no illusions regarding how his own advance this morning would’ve gone. Paul was the kind of good-looking, artsy, feel-my-emo-pain douchebag girls swooned for.
But Jolie had kissed Hauk back. He still had a shot. Good-looking he may not be, but he knew how to treat a woman right. He’d make sure she never regretted giving him a chance.
Or he would as soon as they’d rescued Travis and Brayden.
They reached the back of the crowd, and he turned a corner toward the side exit—the way he’d go if he was trying to haul somebody out against their will. Sure enough, he could hear yelling in the distance. He picked up speed, sprinting down the hallway as Jolie kept pace with him, and they rounded a corner.
Travis futilely whaled on the back of a burly guy who had a choke hold on Brayden.
Hauk stepped up, grabbed the dude’s shirt and tossed him backward. Brayden took a gasping breath.
The attacker straightened up. Hauk yanked his hoodie back to show off his scarred face, stood up to his full height and waved two fingers, daring the guy to fight back. One l te back. ook, and the guy took off running toward backstage.
“Flash drive,” Brayden choked out, rubbing his throat. “He took the—”
Jolie lifted an eyebrow. “Not porn, I take it?”
“Porn?” Hauk asked. “What are you talking about?”
“We haven’t checked yet,” Travis said as he pulled something stuck in Brayden’s thigh.
Jolie was watching the attacker and didn’t notice. “Must be something interesting on it.” She sprinted after him.
“Jolie!” Too late. There went that boldness again, this time running off into danger. Fan-fucking-tastic. Oh, and Travis was holding a syringe. “Did he drug Brayden?” Brayden needed help. But Hauk couldn’t let Jolie chase down a Hand of Atropos by herself. He had to go after her. “Dammit all. Get him to The Underlight. Have LaRoche figure out what was in that needle.”
“Got it,” Travis said as he slid an arm under Brayden’s shoulders.
Hauk chased after Jolie, wondering what the hell a flash drive of pornography had to do with anything. The back of his neck tingled with anticipated violence—apparently his pain-dar was going to help this time. He let it guide him to the right door and bolted through into a room of stage lights and electronics.
Jolie was there, the attacker right in front of her. She grabbed the guy’s jacket, and he spun on her, fist raised.
Hauk grabbed that fist and twisted it around the man’s back. With a cry of pain, the guy went down on his knees.
“Where’s the flash drive?” Hauk asked as he put pressure on the arm.
“Right pocket,” the guy ground out.
Hauk nodded at Jolie, who fished it out.
She gave him a wink. “Thanks! Now what do we do with him?”
“Depends on his next answer.” He didn’t let up on the pressure. “What’d you dope Brayden with?”
Jolie’s eyes widened, but she kept her mouth shut.
The guy puffed up with bravado as he said, “You won’t do anything to me. We’ve studied you. You don’t hurt people who surrender. Consider this my white flag.”
“Studied me, eh?” Hauk slammed the guy’s head into the floor. “Tell me what you drugged my friend with or you’ll get to study a new side of my personality. The one that gets a bit unreasonable when people I care about are jerked around by some asshole.” He twisted the guy’s arm a little harder and got down near his face. “Interesting thing to note about being burned near to death—it re-centers your definition of pain.”
The guy lost all bravado and paled. “I don’t know what it was. I was just told to give it to whoever had the drive, unless it was you. Then I was supposed to pick somebody else.”
Another slam. “Why?”
“I don’t know!”
The door opened, and Jolie yelled, “Hey!”
Hauk cuffed the guy across the temple, knocking him out, but four more Hands of Atropos had entered. One had Jolie by the wrist.
“Lookee what we found, boys,” the guy murmured.
She stomped on his foot.
He sled e="-1">apped her hard enough to spin her head back, and she dropped the flash drive. It clattered across the ground as she rubbed her free hand across her red cheek, startled and suddenly unsure.
The bully shot her a skeevy grin, and “unsure” changed to the same fear she’d worn this morning when Hauk had told her to get in the corner.
That vulnerability on her face did him in. He threw himself at the combatants, his vision going red as rage took over.
* * *
Jolie’s face stung, but more than that she was frozen by the sadistic glee in her attacker’s expression. He liked causing her pain.
Growling, Hauk flung himself forward, his normal controlled efficiency lost to a battle-wild as one of his eyes lightened to a blinded gray.
Jolie’s jaw dropped in surprise and a little bit of fear. Hauk was gone. The beast was in. She hadn’t seen this in two months.
Raged out, Hauk was both terrifying and glorious. Every muscular inch of him seemed alert and deadly as he lunged with inhuman speed. His breath came in short, heaving gasps so the whole of him seemed to expand and contract. The scars darkened, accentuating each ridge and pockmark until he looked more demon than man.
She’d seen him like this for the first time as he took on a biker gang. Jolie had thought she was hallucinating some hellish tableau. But it was very real. And it was Hauk.
He reached her attacker and grabbed the wrist of the hand holding her.
With a wet crack, it snapped. The man screamed as he fell to the ground.
Hauk spun himself between Jolie and the crowd, her one-man army against any number of foes. She had no doubt she was safe from the Hands of Atropos. There was still some niggling fear, though, that she may not be completely safe from him.
One of the Atropos waved a wand-like thing at him.
Magic? Ananke could do all kinds of unknown magical weirdness. That little staff of wood and crystal could do anything. Hauk had told her they didn’t give those tricks to their foot soldiers. It appeared they’d changed their minds.
Hauk yanked the wand away. His fist closed, crushing the wood.
Yellow energy engulfed him like sparks shimmering off his skin, and he howled as he collapsed. His eyes faded to their normal blue, his breathing slowing as the rage ended as suddenly as it had begun.
Everyone froze and stared at Hauk as he twitched on the ground at Jolie’s feet. Worry sliced through her. What had they done to him?
“It worked,” one of the guys said, his voice full of surprise.
Hauk struggled to sit up and failed. His pained grunts underscored the moans from the one with the broken wrist.
The remaining men turned to Jolie with confident smiles.
Her mouth went dry as her muscles quivered, her usual grace turning awkward in fear. “Don’t lose, don’t lose, don’t lose,” she murmured. But no matter how much Hauk had told her to think positive thoughts, she couldn’t protect Hauk and fight three men at once. She glanced frantically about for a weap
on of some type.
Five flashpots were lined up, ready for use. An upcoming act was getting one less fire effect. She grabbed a pot and dropped the ignition pedal to the ground.
The men lunged. She stomped the pedal.
Fire and purple smoke flew out the end.
The men dove for cover as the room filled with purple haze.
She tossed the pot, grabbed Hauk’s shoulder and pulled. He fumbled up to his knees, and they crawled out of the smoke-filled room.
Outside, Hauk pushed himself to a crouch. He seemed to be recovering, thank the powers that be. She guided him out to the loading dock, where performers gathered between acts to shoot the shit and smoke, giving her and Hauk the safety of numbers. Catrina had put a couple of Goodwill couches around a space heater so people could ward off the mild Texas chill.
Jolie led Hauk to a red pleather monstrosity and made him lie down.
The occupants of the other couch took one look at him and cleared out.
Jolie pursed her lips, frustrated at the insult, but Hauk didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m okay,” he murmured, rubbing his forehead as he pushed himself up to sitting.
“You’re okay? Really? What the hell was that?” Usually he raged until a fight was over and he’d gotten everyone to safety, and then he passed out for eight to ten hours of super-healing sleep. Last time she’d watched him heal a bullet wound overnight. Right now, blood still trickled from a small wound, where he’d nicked himself in the fall.
“No idea,” he answered.
“Are you sick?”
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t look fine. He was bracing his head in his hands and his elbows on his lap like he might throw up, but if he was going to be macho stupid about it—or if he just didn’t want to share with her—she’d let it go. “They got the drive back. Should I—”
“No,” he said decisively.
“But—”
He opened his hand, and there it was. “I picked it up off the ground. Figured I could do something useful while I was lying on my ass. What’s on it that’s so damn important?”
“I have no idea. I found it in the abattoir. Figured if they wanted it back badly enough to come get it, it might be worth having, so I chased him.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t realize there would be more of them.” She sat down next to Hauk. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
Stifling a laugh, she shut her mouth. “Fine. I’ll quit asking.” Her phone vibrated. She checked the number. “It’s Travis.”
“Ask if they figured out what Brayden got stuck with,” Hauk said.
She swiped her phone on. “Yo. The drill sergeant wants an update on Brayden.”
* * *
Hauk snorted at the nickname then sucked back a groan. Whatever shit they’d hit him with seemed to be wearing off. At least the nausea was fading.
He’d felt the rage coming on, and he’d blacked out like he always did when those hit him. Then he’d jolted awake lying on the ground, feeling like he’d lost a wrestling match with an Abrams tank. Normally he woke up from a rage ten hours later feeling damn fine; it was one of the few redeeming factors of the blackouts.
Well, that and always winning.
“I’ll send Hauk with it,” Jolie was saying.
“Wait, what?” he asked.
She turned to him. “The drive. I’m sending you to The Underlight with it to get checked out. That way we can have it somewhere safe.”
He nodded at her. “You take the drive.” She’d be smart enough to keep it safe until it was in Travis’s or Brayden’s hands. He would keep an eye on things around here. Or he would as soon as he could reliably stand up.
She put the phone against her shoulder and scowled. “No, I’m getting you checked out. Me going back won’t get you checked out. By a doctor. Or by Tally and LaRoche.”
He waved a hand and sucked in a breath. “I told you, it’s going away. You get the drive back. I’ll stay here in case they cause any more problems.” He wasn’t sure he could walk to The Underlight at the moment anyway. But if he could sit still for a bit longer…
“At which point you’ll do what? Glare at them from your prone position?” She put the phone back on her ear. “No. He got hit by a magic stick.”
“Magic stick?” Hauk raised a metal eyebrow at her. “Seriously?”
“Stuff it. That’s the best descriptor I have. You got hit by a magic stick, you broke it and you collapsed into a painful ball of non-raging you.”
Hauk grimaced. Due to recent events, he and Jolie had been forced to admit magic existed, but they usually danced around the issue. Hauk hated magic. It was illogical and unpredictable and presented a whole host of unknown problems for anybody planning a defense. But his disgust didn’t make it fake. “Fine. I got hit by a magic stick. But I’m recovering just fine. See, watch, I’m standing.” With a grunt he lifted himself to his feet.
Damn, that hurt.
But he couldn’t have done it five minutes ago without help, so case in point, he was improving. He dropped back down to the sofa as Jolie’s frown turned into a scowl. Great. He let his head loll back on the cushions and told her the truth. “Look, I’m not going to make it to The Underlight right now. Ash can play nursemaid. You head back with the drive. If I’m still feeling shitty in an hour, I’ll find a way to get home. Okay? How’s Brayden?”
As he spoke, Jolie’s expression had started to morph from scowling to sympathetic. But halfway through the softer expression snapped to stiffly formal, and her voice was practically icy as she said, “Travis, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She pocketed her phone. “They can’t find anything wrong with Brayden. Whatever he got injected with doesn’t appear to do anything. Which, of course, has everyone terrified. Now, shall I go get Ashley to make you feel all better or is there anything I can do before I go?”
Did she sound acerbic? Why? Hauk managed a lazy grin and shot his mouth, trying to lighten her mood with a joke. “You can kiss me and make it better.” He expected her to roll her eyes and leave, hopefully with a bit of a smile.
But she didn’t. Nose in the air like some princess, she strolled over to him, hips swaying to the beat of the punk music playing over the speakers. Was pretty-boy’s band still playing?
Her knees hit the couch on either side of his and she slid onto his lap, straddling him.
Suddenly he didn’t give a flying fuck who was making the music. Jolie’s expression wth=expressas pissed, but her body—that toned, curvaceous figure wrapped in transparent fabric and sparkles—sure looked like it was about to do something fun.
With one finger she tipped his chin up, forcing his eyes from their indiscreet wandering back to hers.
Oops. Should he apologize for ogling her? Or after the kiss this morning was he allowed to ogle now? He sure loved studying every graceful part of her. Did it as often as he thought he could get away with it.
She smiled, a twist of lips halfway between haughty and seductive, and he loved that, too. As she leaned in close he could smell the soft cinnamon and spice of her perfume. With a breath that was cool against his suddenly hot cheek she whispered, “Like this?”
She kissed him.
Gods, yes.
Her lips slowly moved against his with a supple pressure that eased his pain like nothing else. Her hands slid under his jacket to rest against the cotton of his shirt. Thin cotton. She might be able feel his skin through that. He didn’t want it to make her uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to—
She sighed his name, and her tongue pressed against his lips.
To hell with good ideas. He opened his mouth for her, letting her tongue slide against his. He caressed across her hips to the top of her ass. Her knees slid further apart, pressing her soft, hot body against his. With a groan he cupped the firm muscles he’d been admiring from a distance for too long. Her ass felt even better than it looked.
He wanted to toss her on th
e couch, spread her underneath him where he could touch more of her. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone or anything so damn badly.
She moaned and shuddered against him.
That was it; he shifted his grip so he could press her back into the cushions. But before he made the move, she pulled back.
He grinned like the happy idiot he was.
But she didn’t look happy. With a jerk, the most perfect woman the gods ever made wrenched out of his arms and stood up.
“Wh-wha-what?” he sputtered.
One finger waved manically at him. “I hope you, Ashley and your self-sacrificing bullshit have a good time guarding the rally.” She spun on her five-inch heels and stalked away.
“What? What happened? Jolie?” He stood up and nearly fell down in a wash of dizziness. “Jolie?”
But she was gone.
He dropped back to the couch, brain hurting with the effort to figure out what he’d done wrong. And, more importantly, how he could fix it, so he could get back to kissing that woman.
Chapter Six
“He can be such an asshole.” Jolie flipped up the lid of Travis’s laptop and crammed the flash drive into a port.
“Computer. Not cheap.” Travis fluttered his hands like Catrina in a tizzy, and Jolie rolled her eyes. For all their macho-big-headedness, guys could be serious wimps sometimes.
“It’ll be fine.”
“Says you, Penthouse Princess. Go make us some coffee and spend a moment or two breathing. I hear it’s good for the blood press1">ure.”
Jolie groaned. Travis loved sending her on errands when they were in The Underlight. “You know, I don’t send you on personal errands when you’re working. And you get paid for that.” But she stood up anyway.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll give you your five bucks a month back, and then do I still have to park your car?” He smiled slyly at her, and once again it was hard to stay angry at Travis for long. He remained surfer-boy calm no matter what was going on around him. Even as his sharp brown eyes and rampant curiosity didn’t miss anything. She tried to be nice to all the valets at her condo, but Travis was the only one she’d made friends with, and that had started before either of them had joined The Underlight.
