Wild and Free (The Three #3)(8)

Now it’s a big, steaming pile of smelly uh-oh.

I looked side to side, still backing up, now whispering, “This shit is crazy.”

“It is. Absolutely,” he agreed, and him doing that made me stop and look back at him. When I did, he continued, “Until tonight, I didn’t know there were others like me. Obviously, there are. And obviously something’s up, because I never saw another like me, not in all the years I’ve been on this earth. You hit town and they’re everywhere.”

“Me?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“You felt I was in danger?”

I shook my head but admitted, “Yeah.”

“Knife through the gut, pain so extreme you’re sure you’ll bleed out in a second?” he pushed.

Oh God, how did he know?

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“Felt that too, earlier tonight, when those guys were chasing you. Never felt that before in my life. Knew exactly where you were and had no idea how I knew. Knew exactly what you were the minute I laid eyes on you. You calm down, take a breath like I told you to do, I figure you’ll know it too.”

I was taking no breath and trying to feel anything, so I shook my head. “I just want to get out of here. Get out of here and go home.”

That not being home to my apartment, but home to my dad’s compound.

Though, it wasn’t a compound, exactly. But considering the amount of guns he owned, the tall fence he’d built around the place so “no motherf*cking * can be in my business,” and the land he had (because when he said he didn’t want anyone in his business, he meant it), I teased him by calling it his compound.

I didn’t know if he could protect me from vampires and werewolves.

I just knew he’d die trying. And he had enough ammo to make that fight last awhile.

“What’s your name?” Abel asked.

I blinked out of my thoughts and focused on him.

“Please take me to my hotel room so I can—”

He interrupted me again, “After I set those vampires on fire, seein’ as I’m not takin’ any chances, that’s where I went so I could get your shit. They were crawlin’ all over it, got a whiff of me, came after me. That ended swords against pipe in an alley. So you aren’t goin’ to your hotel room.”

Shit!

“How did you know which hotel I’m staying at?”

His gaze traveled over me, then back to my face. “You a biker bitch?”

This correct assumption did not prove he also had clairvoyant powers, just deductive ones. I was wearing a leather choker, feather earrings, leather wristlet on one arm, abundant silver bangles on the other wrist, a Harley tee, faded jeans, and motorcycle boots—my uniform when I wasn’t at work (though, I didn’t always wear feather earrings…or bangles).

And, incidentally, he was in much the same outfit. His jeans more beat up, his tee older, faded, and totally kickass, and obviously he wasn’t wearing a choker, earrings, or bracelets. Though he did have a chain wallet attached to his belt and a number of rings on his fingers.

“I would use the term ‘motorcycle aficionado,’” I snapped. “But yes.”

“Bikers stay at one place in Serpentine Bay.”

He was right. I’d been there before with my father. It was a biker mecca. Every biker worth being called a biker went to Serpentine Bay at least once before they died. Dad had taken me on my eighteenth birthday, but he’d been here five times.

And when in Serpentine Bay, bikers stayed at one of two places: the campgrounds north of town or the biker-friendly hotel on the water called The Chain, also north of town.

I gave up on that and asked, “What do they want with me?”

“What’s your name?” he asked back.

I shook my head.

“Could do this all night, and will, you don’t tell me your name,” he warned.

“Lilah,” I gave in. “Uh…Delilah Johnson.”

He stared at me a second before he lifted a hand, ran it through his dark hair, and looked to the floor, muttering, “Terrific. I’m named after the brother who was murdered and you’re named after the bitch who stole her man’s strength and betrayed him to his enemies. Fuck.” His eyes came back to mine and he dropped his hand. “We’re screwed.”

“I would never do that,” I hissed.

“Good to know,” he kept muttering.

Our conversation was way off target so I commenced in getting us back on track.

“Seriously, honestly, please listen to me.” I leaned toward him. “I want to leave.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t ten feet away from him.

Suddenly, I was pressed to the wall and held there by his body.

“Searchin’,” he whispered, his different colored eyes burning into mine. “My whole life, searchin’ for something, missing something, something I did not know. Until I found you. And my whole life is a long f*ckin’ life to be needing something I could not find.”

A long f*cking life?

He looked in his early thirties.

“So Delilah,” he went on, “you aren’t leavin’. You aren’t getting your ass killed. You’re stayin’ right here where I can keep you safe. And the first thing you’re doin’ is takin’ a goddamned shower so you stop reekin’ like those f*ckers who laid their hands on you and tried to take you from me before I even gave you our first kiss.”