by JL Oiler
All of which brought John back to the female who’d barricaded herself in the car. John did his best to get her to open the door without his tension becoming apparent but he wasn't as successful as he’d have liked. The situation was about to get worse as a group of six men began making their way down the narrow, one-way street. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed the picture of him and Thomas and held it against the glass, thankful she’d not thought to just drive away.
Though he would've thought it impossible, her pale eyes got larger. Thorn looked at the images then looked back up at him before slowly lifting the door lock. John could already hear the whispers of the street gang as they continued toward them. Their intent was robbery, car theft and perhaps rape, all things John would've to kill them for even considering, which meant six bodies to explain. It was just one more complication he didn't need. Throwing the door wide as soon as the lock slipped out of place, he looked down at the woman in the driver seat.
“Slide over.”
“No. This is my car. How did you know my brother?” she asked with more determination in her tone than her face revealed.
“We don’t have the time for this Thorn, get the hell over,” John growled as he began to push her across to the passenger seat so he could climb behind the wheel.
“What the hell are you doing?” she screamed at him as he pulled the door shut behind him and threw the car into gear.
Glancing over at Thorn, he realized she’d unlocked the passenger door and was looking to hop out of the vehicle. With no time for reasoning, John reached out and grabbed her by the hair as he stomped on the gas pedal. Speeding toward the group of men, he noted the glimmer of several handguns and pushed Thorn's head into his lap. He had not expected all this trouble tonight or the erotic images her face being so close to his cock delivered.
“What the fuck,” she screamed at him before being silenced by the sound of gunfire and the shattering of the passenger side window.
A burning sensation ran through John's shoulder as one of the bullets glanced his rough skin. It wasn’t anything a few hours wouldn’t cure but he would need a whole lot more time than that to ease the ache Thorn was causing him. However, he would've to use a great bit of tact to find his relief there.
“It’s safe now,” he said, releasing her hair and allowing her to sit back upright in the seat.
He watched her from the corner of his eye as she surveyed the damage to her vehicle while brushing glass shards from her lap. He wondered which questions would come out of that sexy mouth first.
“How did you know my brother?” she finally asked, turning around to face him.
“He was my best friend,” John told her. “I was with him in Afghanistan when he was killed. Sorry I didn’t make it back for the funeral.”
“If you were with him then you know we couldn’t have a funeral, only a memorial,” she accused with a tone John had become familiar with from families of fallen Thorndiers.
He started to ask why they could only have a memorial when he personally helped load Thomas’ body onto a plane for the states, but thought it was probably not the best time for such a conversation. Instead, he opted for a different route.
“He told me a lot about you and his wife Caroline and his little girl, Becka. What is she, three now?”
He knew that caught her attention as she let out a low sigh and settled back into the seat for a moment.
“So where exactly are we going?” She finally asked, looking out into the dark city streets.
John hadn’t really thought about it but he guessed from their current direction he was taking her to the base. They had some things to discuss anyhow and that would be the safest place for her until he decided what to do. If he’d noticed her following him about, others could've just as easily and the last thing he needed to be worrying about was her safety when he was suppose to be out hunting monsters.
“The base. That way I can make certain you stay out of trouble.”
“What business is it of yours what I do?” I….” her voice trailed off.
John jumped as he felt her hand touch his arm, shocked not only at the touch but how cold her fingers felt.
“You’ve been shot,” Thorn told him as she gently rolled up the sleeve of his blood soaked shirt.
“It’s nothing. Just a flesh wound. I'll clean it up when we stop,” he told her in a breathless voice he knew she mistook for pain. In reality, her touch caused this affect.
Grabbing the cell phone from his pocket, he punched in the direct line to the Nest control room and asked to speak with General Striate. Giving the man a brief synopsis of what happened, he couldn't help but grin when Striate suggested he bring Thorn in with him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Thorn tore the bottom of her tee shirt and used the cloth to tie around John’s arm as she worried her lower lip. This was her fault. If she would've been watching for him to exit the club rather than stuffing a donut into her face, then they would've avoided this whole mess. Now she was off to the base most likely to take an ass chewing from some person wearing a bunch of stripes for messing around and causing one of their soldiers to get hurt. Hell, they might throw her in a hole somewhere and forget about her for a few weeks.
As they continued as fast as her car could travel, Thorn took her first real look at the man behind the wheel. He was ruggedly handsome, strong and muscular with the most unique colored eyes she’d ever seen. They were almost amber. John Rose also had the most amazing smell, a sensual addictive scent of cinnamon and sandalwood. She hated to admit it but Thorn actually enjoyed his demanding, take-charge attitude and from the size of the package pressing against the front of his jeans, he liked giving orders. She’d bet her entire shoe fund that the man liked to play rough, an idea that left a tingle in her thighs. Too bad the heat his commanding tone caused deep inside her wasn't enough to warm the rest of her.
“So how long have you known I was following you?” Thorn asked when they reached the north gate of the base.
“Since the first night. Then again General Striate did tell me he’d hired someone to keep an eye on me,” he responded as he flipped his ID at the guard who waved them on.
“General Striate? He hired me?” she said as she began to shiver.
He chuckled and Thorn shook her head. Why had John’s commanding officer hired her of all people to watch him? And why in the world would they have told John about it? It all seemed very peculiar.
“Why would he do that?” she asked as she pulled her coat a little tighter around her. The winter air blowing through the now windowless door was bitter cold.
“You can ask him yourself in a few minutes. However, we’ll need to get you unthawed first,” John told her as he swung his injured arm around her shoulder and hauled her effortlessly against his side.
Instantly the heat of his body began to radiate through her, decreasing the chatter of Thorn's teeth a decimal. Snuggling in closer, Thorn leaned her head against his shoulder, the wariness of the day weighing heavily on her. She most likely would've fallen asleep if John hadn’t pulled the car to a stop.
Looking up, Thorn blinked rapidly, attempting to focus. They’d stopped at colonial house complete with candle lights burning in each window. This must be General Striate's home, she thought to herself as John got out of the car and came around to open her door.
“Are you certain he’s awake?”
“He said he would leave the side door open,” John assured her as he offered Thorn a hand.
Instead of taking his offering, Thorn climbed out of the car and turned to assess the damage the rainfall of bullets had caused. Not only did they shatter the passenger window, but there were also several bullet holes in the body. How in the hell was she going to explain this to her insurance company? She could say farewell to a decent premium.
“Come on,” John said, reaching out and taking her by the arm.
She let him lead her toward the side of the house passed a set of garden gnomes, which
appeared to watch their movement. As promised the door was open and she followed John into the dark house.
“Sergeant, Miss Grant. Please follow me to the study. I don’t wish to wake my wife,” a deep voice called through the darkness.
Though she didn't particularly want to, Thorn took John’s hand and moved through the house. It wasn't that she didn't like the man. It was the strange way he made butterflies flutter about in her stomach she was trying to avoid. It was terribly confusing. Thorn had been avoiding any type of emotional entanglement. She knew what the loss of her brother caused Caroline and she never wanted to risk being swallowed by that darkness. Thomas’ death had left a big hole in Thorn’s heart but it damn near killed his young wife. If not for Becka, she was certain Caroline would've taken her own life.
When a light finally came on and they all sat behind a closed door, Thorn looked at the General. He was indeed the same man who hired her to follow Sergeant Rose.
“Why did you hire me?” Thorn asked, pulling her hand from John's.
The General looked at her then Sergeant Rose, smiling slightly as he leaned back in the leather desk chair. “I wanted a set of eyes on him that were not tied to the military. I figured if someone was on to him then your presence might just throw them off,” he explained.
Thorn couldn't help but feel that something was missing in his explanation, like the why her? Looking at John, she could see that same suspicion reflected in his eyes.
“Now I guess I can simply pay you for your time and ask that you never discuss any of this,” Striate told her as he pulled open a desk drawer and withdrew a plain white envelope, which he handed to her.
“That's it then? You won’t need to have me followed any longer?” John asked, leaning forward a bit in his chair and lowering his head as he spoke. The posture he displayed reminded Thorn of a stalking animal.
“I think you're more than capable of handling small exploits until the rest of your team is ready. I figure we will have all of you out and ready to tackle bigger things by the end of next week.”
Thorn wondered what type of team he was talking about. Who were they? The way John was lurking around clubs and darkened areas, she thought perhaps it might be some new domestic terrorism task force or something. From what she knew of military operations, they always readied a complete unit. Thorn found it very strange he was the only member of his team active at this time.
“With your permission then, Sir,” John said, standing, “I'll see Miss Grant home and then return to base.”
****
John couldn't keep his eyes from straying away from the road in front of him as they drove through the quiet night. There was so much he wanted to say, but he had no idea how to begin. How did you tell someone you just met that you’d loved them for over a year now? That you spent every night staring at their picture?
“Sorry about your car,” he finally said. It wasn't his best opener but it was better than silence.
He heard her sigh and thought for a moment she wouldn't reply.
“It’s alright, better the car then me. Thank you for that by the way,” she told him before covering a wide yawn.
“Why don’t you slide back over here against me? It's better than freezing,” he suggested, smiling when she didn't hesitate to do so. “Where do you live?” With his arm wrapped back around her shoulder, he fought the need to lean down and kiss her as they stopped at the gate.
“Go down about six blocks and make the left,” Thorn told him, leaning her head back against his shoulder once again.
John had never driven so slow in his life. He didn’t want to take her home, to walk away, to be left with only her image in his pocket. There was also another thought streaming through his head. Thorn lived close enough to the base that, with his abilities, he could be at her door in minutes. She’d been watching him. It only seemed right he should do the same.
“Up here on the right. The one with the porch light,” she motioned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
John pulled the car into the drive and turned off the motor. He did a quick inventory of the area. It was a small house with a fairly good size yard and two large oak trees, one of which reached up near the upstairs window he guessed was her bedroom. It would make an excellent perch for him to observe from.
“I was wondering if you might have dinner with me on Friday?” he asked as he handed Thorn her keys. There was a tight knot in his gut as John waited for her to answer.
“Umm, I don’t know,” Thorn responded, looking around as if his question made her uncomfortable.
“How about you think about it and I’ll give you a call Thursday?” He suggested.
She had not said no, but he didn't want her to feel pressured to make a decision that moment.
“Ok,” she agreed. “We’ll talk Thursday,” Thorn agreed.
John felt like shouting for joy. It wasn't a decisive victory but he most definitely made headway. Smiling wide as Thorn took his hand, she exited the vehicle this time, another small win.
“Thanks again, really,” Thorn told him as she stopped on the doorstep, giving him a crooked little smile.
“It was my pleasure,” he replied, his heart skipping a beat. He wanted to kiss her good night but didn't know if he should dare. Never had he felt this unsure.
He nearly imploded when Thorn stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek.
“Let me give you my number before you head back to the base,” she breathed against his skin.
John watched her turn the key in the lock and disappear inside, returning moments later with an ink pen. Taking his hand, she rolled it over and wrote her number in his palm.
“Good night, Sergeant,” Thorn said as she closed the door, leaving him standing like a statue on her doorstep.
John couldn't wipe the stupid grin from his face as he began jogging back toward the base. He hoped he could hold out the three days to dial the number. He would definitely need to find a way to occupy the time, which he was certain, would simply crawl.
He caught a hint about some strange happenings before leaving the club tonight and needed to check them out more thoroughly. There wasn’t anything definitive as far as deaths or attacks yet, however that didn't mean there wasn't a vamp crawling about. With his team still confined to base for a while longer, John would need to be cautious that they were dealing with a single creature rather than an entire clan. He didn't want to go charging in without knowing the odds.
****
Thorn tossed her keys onto the small table in the entranceway after securing the door. She smiled, still tasting him on her lips. He caused strange thoughts to run through her head when he was close. Thoughts she swore she would never allow herself to feel, a possibility for more than a Thornitary life.
Losing her clothes as she moved through her house toward the bedroom, she hummed a happy tune, anxious to climb beneath her grandmother’s quilt and fall asleep. Tonight Thorn knew one thing for certain, the hero in her dreams would finally have a face. A strong face with a shadow of growth across his jaw and a set of unique, amber colored eyes.
Glancing at the calendar as she stepped into her bedroom, she grinned wondering if it would truly take him until Thursday to call. Thorn hoped not.
CHAPTER FIVE
Thorn looked at her watch and frowned. She still had another four hours until the end of her shift. She’d worked three days straight on the three pm - three am shift and was anxious to call it a night, not that it had anything to do with it being Wednesday, well almost Thursday, and her having the next three days off. The radio squelch made her screw the lid back on her bottle of water and head for the ambulance. At least a call would make the time go a bit faster.
“Unit three respond, alleyway behind First and Gordian Street South, report man down,” the dispatcher announced across the units speakers as both she and the driver fastened their seat belts.
Great, Thorn thought to herself as she grabbed the jump kit she kept bet
ween the seat and her driver, Keith Boyd, as he pulled out onto the ice-covered streets. It had been snowing off and on for the past few days but tonight Mother Nature seemed to be throwing everything she had on the roads. Most likely, this call involved yet another person succumbing to the bitter weather and was another slip and fall on an icy patch of ground. She’d taken in three such cases in the past five hours.
As they approached the scene, however, Thorn noted that no one was around the body, which was lying face down in a snowdrift the wind had created alongside a decaying stonewall. She thought it strange that the caller didn't hang around. When Keith pulled about twenty feet away, Thorn climbed out the door and headed for the body as the Keith went to grab the cot and some warm blankets from the back.
The bitter, cold wind cut through Thorn's uniform, making it feel as though she were wearing nothing at all. Kneeling beside the body she could now confirm as male, she felt the victim's neck for a pulse. Feeling nothing, she withdrew her hand, grabbed the body by the shoulders, and rolled the man face up. The site caught her off guard and Thorn stumbled back landing on her ass in the snow. The man’s entire neck had been torn open, his dead eyes locked wide in what appeared to be absolute horror.
A loud thump and yelp from Keith drew her attention from the body. Jumping back to her feet, she hurried around the ambulance fearing he might have fallen on the icy street. Instead, she came to a sliding stop at the back of the unit with her eyes wide. Keith was on the ground about five feet from the back doors of the ambulance, her jump bag lying on the ground, its contents spilling across the snow. Her driver lay sprawled across the cold ground, eyes staring into the sky, a silent scream on his face as a man dressed in jet black leaned over his throat. Blood turned the snow around Keith a bright red in the flickering lights of the dim street lamp.
Thorn knew, despite her minds attempt to deny it, what this was and what had happened not only to the victim they’d been called to help but to Travis as well.
