“I’m not much help against mobsters or police,” Beane said. “Not that there’s any difference when there’s a vampire in the mix.”
“I’ll handle that. I always do. I need technical support, man. That’s it.”
Beane sighed. “Okay, so it’s a dagger.”
Levi pulled it out from his waistband. “Right.”
It was absurdly ornamented, a tacky, impractical thing, the sheath and hilt chased with curlicues and inlaid with gems and pearls. An obvious fake, though the gems were real enough, except they were lab-created.
Some people took Levi to be stupid. After all, as a werewolf, he was often hired to do jobs that relied on stealth or brute force, rarely finesse. And he had to admit that he had made rather a habit of going off half-cocked.
But he’d discovered a few years ago that he had a knack for observing small details, the little things that told him whether something was what it appeared to be. He’d had almost a sixth sense for sniffing out lies and frauds, and his natural talent had been honed when he’d started taking cases to verify the provenance of unique and expensive art and memorabilia.
Levi credited his wolf senses for a good part of his success. He looked at things differently than ordinary humans did, and the parts of an artwork that appeared most strikingly unique to him were rarely the same things that humans concentrated on. Forgers always made the wrong things look good, and with a substantial education to both back up and better inform those observations, he’d built a thriving business.
But it was a business that few who knew his true nature had heard about. To most nonhumans, he was Levi Harris, tracker, muscle, and general problem solver. And as long as there were those out there in that world who would like to use his werewolf relations to manipulate him, that was all they needed to know. If he’d let his worlds mix, he would have been dragged into smuggling by some bloodsucker with grandiose plans, lending his good name to a disreputable enterprise until it was discovered and he was ruined.
The vampire would, of course, get off scot-free. They always did.
Until now.
“Have you opened it yet?” Beane asked.
“Not yet.” Levi held the phone against his cheek and turned the knife in his hands, his sharp vision able to pick out slight inconsistencies and imperfections on the surface even in the shadows. “I’ve been kind of busy.”
“When you say ‘kind of busy,’ it usually involves people with guns,” Beane said, his voice dripping with disapproval.
“Not this time. I swear.” There it was—in the most obvious place. Levi snorted. He should have guessed. He held onto the grip and twisted the pommel carefully. It gave instantly, unscrewing from the knife. “The guards were werewolves. It’s hard to hold a gun in your paws.”
“One of these days, I’m going to get a call, and it’ll be from your sister, telling me that you pushed your luck too far and now you’re a wolfskin throw.”
“Nah. I’d have to be turned into a lampshade. We always turn back human when we die.” The pommel came loose. Levi shook the hollow sphere over his hand. Nothing. He peered into the body of the grip. There was something white stuffed inside. Cotton wadding. He tried to shake it out, but nothing happened, and his fingers were too big to fit inside. He could use his own pocket knife, but he didn’t want to risk damaging whatever was inside it.
He made an impatient noise. Just his luck.
“What’s wrong now?” Beane asked.
“Temporary setback. I’ll call you right back,” Levi said, then flipped the burner closed and shoved it into his pocket.
He walked over to stand in front of the girl. She peered up at him, then at the knife in his hands. Damn, but she was tempting, all curves and pretty gray eyes. He should probably discourage her, since he knew very well how shifter pheromones could hit full humans.
Yeah, like that was going to happen, now that he’d taken her along. He wasn’t in the habit of refusing what women like that had to offer.
“If you’re looking for a virgin sacrifice, you’re a number of years too late,” she said, nodding at the ornate dagger.
“Very funny. Got a pair of tweezers in that deadly purse of yours?” he asked.
She pushed off the car. “I thought you wanted me to stay out of the car.”
“Just get the damn purse,” he said.
She did, rummaging around in its depths before handing over a pair of steel tweezers with slanted tips. Perfect.
He grasped the edge of the cotton and pulled it carefully, sliding out the whole wad from the hollow grip. She watched, curiosity naked on her face, as it came out. He handed back the tweezers and pulled the wadding free, shoving the knife back into his waistband and then carefully unrolling it on his palm. A flat black shape emerged.
“An SD card? That’s what you stole?” she said, sounding disappointed. “I hope it has like nuclear launch codes on it or something.”
Levi smiled and pulled out an empty coin pouch, slipped the card into it, and zipped it closed. The micro SD card was exactly the kind of thing he’d hoped to find. Until that moment, there was still a chance, however slight, that he’d been wrong, that all the intelligence that he’d gathered had been compromised and he’d fallen for a decoy.
“Something even better,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “And you’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“You wouldn’t believe it, anyway.”
“I’d believe a surprising amount from a guy with superhuman healing,” she said.
He grinned at her annoyed expression and decided, against his better judgment, to give her a small teaser. “The jewels on the knife? They’re all real. And the whole reason for the knife was just to disguise this puppy. ’Cause it’s worth that much more, in the right hands.” He patted his hip. “For you, it’d mean very little. For me, though, it’s freedom.”
He pulled out the phone, flipped it open, and hit redial, turning his back on her as he headed back into the furniture pile.
“Got it now?” Beane asked.
“Yeah. Just like we thought,” Levi said.
“Look, you might as well just tell me everything,” Harper called. “I’m going to get it out of you eventually.”
“Who is that?” Beane demanded.
Levi winced. “Just a tagalong I picked up.”
“Look, dude, if there was ever a bad time to pick up a chick—”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s complicated. Look, I’ve got a micro SD card here. How do I get the contents to you ASAP?”
“Got a tablet or phone with a data plan?” he asked.
“I’m calling you on my burner, but yeah, I’ve got my full kit.”
“So what you need is a micro SD to micro USB reader, if your phone will take that. Then Dropbox, and share it with me, and you’re good. If it copies.”
“What do you mean, ‘if it copies?’” Levi repeated, turning so that he had the girl in view again. “It’s on the card. Of course it will copy.”
“Look, if you bring it here, I guarantee that I’ll be able to copy it. But there are ways to make standard readers ignore data. It’s mostly so people don’t copy over files that are needed to make cameras use a card right and things like that, and so the important stuff isn’t lost if they reformat it, but that kind of data’s invisible through a regular reader.”
Levi let out a puff of air. “Great. Fabulous. So I can either try to make it all the way to your dungeon of paranoia, or I can just take a little trip to the store, like I don’t have people on my ass wanting my head, and take a gamble on whether I can use a card reader with it.”
“You could always mail it,” Beane suggested.
“Right. Let me do that. That totally won’t get intercepted at any point along the route.”
“Security through obscurity really does work most of the time,” Beane said.
“Yeah, except when it doesn’t.” Levi shook his head. “All right. We’ll try the reader. If that doesn’t work, we
’ll be coming to you. Don’t shoot us when we get there.”
“Speaking of that ‘we’—”
“Yeah, not going to talk about it,” Levi said, realizing only as Beane pointed it out what pronoun he’d been using. “Hope I don’t see you soon.”
“Sure thing,” Beane said, and he hung up.
There was only one more thing to do right then. Levi steeled himself for it as he switched the burner in his hand for his pocket knife. Being a werewolf had many advantages, among them rapid healing. Unfortunately, that particular skill had developed—or had been designed, depending on who you talked to—without regard to the realities of modern weapons.
His skin had healed almost immediately upon the bullet entering it. And as the muscles beneath had knit back together, they had pushed the bullet upward, until it lay uncomfortably just beneath the surface with no way out.
There was only one way to get rid of it now. He flicked the knife open with his thumb and looked over at Harper, who was leaning against the door of the car, watching him.
Yeah. This was another thing he wasn’t going to be explaining to her. He turned away just long enough to pull the neck of his gray t-shirt to the side, using two fingers on either side of the bullet to pin it in place and stretch the skin over it. Setting his jaw, he sliced along it in a single, quick motion. The bullet popped out, falling to the dirt floor of the barn. The skin knit back together almost instantly, and Levi rolled his shoulder. There was a lingering ghost of pain from nerves that still protested against being severed, but it already felt better.
He wiped the blood from the blade onto his motorcycle leathers, then shoved it back in his pocket as he turned back toward the car and the woman there.
Except she wasn’t there anymore.
Chapter Seven
Harper was coming back around the pile of furniture when Levi cornered it with such speed that she nearly collided with him.
“What the actual hell?” she squawked, swinging her purse around defensively in front of her.
“Where were you?” he demanded.
“Taking a leak, if you must know.” She brushed a sweep of hair out of her face. “I’ve got tissues in the purse.”
She didn’t tell him that she’d taken her phone, too, and had texted her housemate Madisyn, the reliable one, letting her know not to expect Harper until late that night. She’d also considered calling the police. It probably would have been a good idea, whatever Levi claimed. After all, he had stolen her car, and he’d even admitted to stealing something else that, by his own admission, was worth way more.
But she had a weakness for bad boys, and Levi fit that description to a T, though she’d bet cold, hard cash that he wasn’t a bad guy—which was quite a different thing. That was her favorite combination, even when it wasn’t in a form as appealing as the long-bodied, amber-eyed one that Levi had.
She felt safe falling for a bad boy because she never had to waste time wondering whether it’d work out and he’d stick around. It was perfectly obvious from the beginning that such relationships had an expiration date, so she was never tempted into fooling herself that it might last.
And maybe he was telling her the truth about the thing he’d stolen. Maybe for once, she’d fallen in with someone who was fighting for the cause of truth and justice and all that, even if in a roundabout, backhanded way. Harper had never found herself in that kind of situation, and she found more than the novelty of it appealing, if she was honest with herself.
And anyhow, she had her car back now—more or less.
“Fine,” he said, still frowning.
“So what are we doing now?” she asked. He was close enough to touch.
“Waiting. We’ll leave after sunset,” he said.
“So we’re behind the search lines, you said.” She shook her head at him. “Why am I supposed to believe you?”
“It doesn’t much matter what you believe,” he said. “It’s true.”
She looked up into those delicious amber eyes above that hard jaw and she wondered what the hell she was doing there with him. Without a conscious decision, she reached out and stroked his cheek with one finger, running it across the stubble that was just long enough to start to turn soft.
He caught her wrist, his gaze going sharp in a way that made her breath catch and her heart stumble over a beat. Oh, he was interested in her, all right.
She tried not to think about how interested she was in him.
“I stole your car, and then you shot me. How do I know you just don’t want a chance to put another hole in me?”
She lifted her chin challengingly. “Same way I’m supposed to believe you, I guess.”
“We’re at an impasse, then,” he said, still gripping her wrist.
Harper shrugged, trying to pretend that she wasn’t noticing his hand on her in a very visceral way. “Why don’t we just agree to believe each other? For the time being, I mean? It’d be much less drama, and I’ve never been big on drama. You said you’d give my car back. If you meant it, that’s good enough for me. I’m willing to wait.”
Levi chuckled. “You’re crazy.”
“Well, did you mean it?” she pressed.
He shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“So, then,” she said. “I wanted to come along with you. And that’s what happened. So I don’t see as to why I’d have any complaints.”
“You’re forgetting the car chase. That sort of happened in the middle.”
“It wasn’t much of a chase, on that bike of yours.” She shook her head, still having a hard time believing how easily he’d abandoned that beautiful machine. She loved her car, but even she was in touch with reality enough to realize that no one in their right mind would make the exchange Levi had unless he felt forced to do so. “Are they really that dangerous? The people who’re after you?”
“More dangerous than you can imagine,” he said.
“Well, I can imagine pretty dangerous.” Her other hand reached out almost of its own accord, catching the open flap of his motorcycle jacket.
He caught that one, too, his gaze on her growing even more keen. “More dangerous than that. More dangerous than me.”
“That is dangerous,” she said, her breath coming a little faster.
“You have no idea,” he murmured, and his mouth was already angling down.
With a single step, Harper closed the small distance between them so that her body pressed against their joined hands, her purse sliding to the side. She raised onto her tiptoes, and met his lips with hers.
Instantly, he reached around her, his hand closing around a fistful of hair at the back of her head. He pulled her hard against his mouth, trapping her hands between them as his other arm encircled her waist and slid downward, across her rear, his body weight driving her backward toward the car.
His mouth explored hers, efficiently, expertly, devastatingly, his rhythm driving shockwaves of heat down into her belly and lower, to the juncture of her thighs.
She kissed him back, pushing past his lips and teeth into the hotness of his mouth, tasting him as he took her. She broke off only when the backs of her legs met the car’s bumper and dropped her rear onto the hood.
Levi stepped back then, retreating two paces. She was about to protest when he reached into his waistband and pulled out her revolver. Flashing it at her with raised eyebrows, he set it carefully at his feet, followed by the jeweled dagger—seriously, what was with the Indiana Jones crap?—then a nine mil in a black clip-on holster and a pocket knife. He stripped off his jacket and dropped it over the lot.
“Quite the armory you’ve got there,” Harper said, letting her purse slide to the ground at her feet and bracing against her hands on the hood as he approached again.
“Keeping it out of your reach,” he said.
“Don’t you trust me?” She looked up at him.
He was close now, standing between her knees. “Not a chance.”
“I’m disappointed.” She thrust ou
t her lower lip in a pretend pout.
He caught the back of her neck with one hand and ducked his head so that his stubble-roughened cheek was against hers. “I don’t believe that for an instant,” he said, the words a low growl in her ear.
Her laugh was cut off abruptly in a gasp as his lips found the sensitive place just below her ear, kissing, sucking, nipping as he moved down to follow the edge of her deep V-neck tee. Oh, God, but he was good with that mouth....
She arched against his hand, hooking her legs behind his and pulling him against her hips and the ache there. She could feel the hard bulge against the juncture of her thighs, even through their pants, and she shivered at the sudden jolt it sent straight through her body.
Her hands went to his belt again, and this time, disarmed, he did nothing to stop them. She jerked the buckle loose, then loosened his fly, tugging it down and sliding her hands against the flat plane of his belly and under his waistband to catch his cock in her hand. It was hot, velvety, and hard, pulsing in her grip.
She felt reckless, suddenly powerful. This wasn’t the Harper she knew, but she didn’t care, not right now. She didn’t know what had gotten into her, but she didn’t want it to stop.
Levi made a noise low in his throat as she slid lower to encircle the shaft, breaking away from kissing her to catch her with his amber gaze. His tousled hair was even wilder than before, a deep flush staining his cheeks and shadowing his eyes with a deep and nameless hunger.
“You’re not shy, are you?” He said the words as if he meant them to be light, but there was a strangled kind of tension in his voice despite their flippancy.
Harper gave a breathless laugh, skimming her thumb around the bottom ring of his cock’s head as she hooked her other arm up under his arm, her hand closing around the fabric of his shirt. “You have no idea.”
He stopped her mouth with another kiss, and she moved to the rhythm of his body, stroking him with every beat until his breath came as hard and fast as hers did. His free hand slid up, under her shirt, cupping, kneading her breast over her bra—then shoving the top edge down so that she spilled out over it. He took her nipple between his fingers, sending another jolt of need so pure down between her thighs that she groaned with it.
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