Warrior (Relentless #4)(42)

Samson got up and brought her a notepad and pencil. She wrote on the pad as they talked, so she didn’t see the warm affection on his face as he watched her. But I saw it clearly, and so did my Mori.

Mine, the demon growled.





Chapter 8





I took half a dozen strides toward the coffee shop before I realized what I was doing. I should have turned around and gone back, but I kept walking. Once I sensed Sara, the invisible cord that stretched between us drew me to her. I knew entering the shop was a bad idea before my hand touched the door, but that didn’t stop me. Ignoring everyone else in the shop, I settled in a chair that gave me a clear view of Sara on the far side of the room.

Neither Sara nor Samson seemed aware of my presence as she finished writing and handed the notepad to him. He smiled broadly, and there was no mistaking the adoration in his eyes as he said something that made her blush prettily and look down at her lap.

My fingers clenched the arms of the leather chair as I watched him flirt openly with her, and I knew I’d be across the room in seconds if he touched her. Coming here had been a mistake, but I couldn’t leave if my life depended on it.

Sara said something. Then her shoulders stiffened and she stared out the window at the street. I wondered again if she could sense me as I did her, and I felt a thrill of satisfaction when her head turned and her gaze swept the room as if she was looking for someone.

Her companion shifted, and my eyes narrowed on him as his hand moved toward her arm to get her attention. My Mori pressed forward, and I fought the urge to leave the chair.

And then I felt her gaze on me, and I forgot about the other male as I met her indignant stare. Her chin lifted defiantly and her lips pressed together, telling me she was not happy with me being there. My pulse quickened in response. God, even when she was angry, she was beautiful.

She stared at me until Samson spoke to her. I felt the loss of her gaze when she turned it toward him. They talked, and she kept her face turned away from me, although he looked my way several times.

I waited for her to look at me again, but she seemed determined to ignore me. It didn’t bother me at first, but the longer they sat there talking as if I wasn’t in the room, the darker my mood got. By the time they got up and walked out without a glance in my direction, I was ready to bite the head off the first person who looked at me wrong.

After a minute, I went outside and strode to my bike. Straddling it, I gripped the handlebars, trying to rein in the storm brewing inside of me.

“Khristu!” I swore loudly as I fought my angry demon. I wasn’t happy either, but there was nothing I could do about it right now. I should have stayed away. I’d seen a few newly bonded males lose it because they couldn’t control their demons. I would not do that to her.

I was still there five minutes later when Chris called to tell me Sara had just gotten home. Knowing she was no longer with Samson eased my agitation a little, but I still wanted to pummel something. I started my bike and headed out of town. One of Erik’s guys had set up a punching bag in the basement of the safe house, and I had a feeling he was going to need to replace it after I was done with it.





*


Maxwell’s northern wolves arrived in Portland Saturday night, and by Monday there had been two confrontations between the new wolves and our warriors. The additional wolves sent the vampires into hiding, and the city was quiet for the next few days.

Chris and I continued to watch Sara, who stayed closed to school and home. There was no sign of Samson, but I noticed her werewolf friends were sticking closer to her than usual. She didn’t look too happy about their constant presence, and I wondered what was up with the three of them. They had been acting strange since they walked out of the mall on Sunday with Sara covered in what appeared to be orange drink. I’d been tempted to ask what happened, but the scowl on her face had warned me against it.

On Tuesday, Sara’s uncle left on a trip. I didn’t like the idea of her alone in the building, but it wasn’t as if her uncle could have protected her from a vampire. Between Chris and me and the werewolves, we’d keep her safe.

I was halfway to New Hastings Wednesday afternoon when Chris called.

“Are you on your way here?” he asked.

I chuckled. “You in a hurry to get back to the city?”

“No.” He let out a groan. “Sara gave me the slip at school and took off.”

My stomach lurched, and I hit the gas, making the bike leap forward. “Goddamn it, Chris! She’s an untrained orphan. How the hell did she get away from you again?”

“I was waiting for her in front of the school like I do every day, and she must have gone out the back,” he said apologetically. “Her friend Roland is gone too. Peter swears he has no idea where they went.”

I sped around an eighteen wheeler. “How long?”

“About twenty minutes. I’m riding around now, looking for her. She couldn’t have gone far without a bike or car.”

“Are you sure she didn’t go home?” I asked, though I knew better. Sara, what the hell are you up to?

“I knocked and there was no answer, so I went inside. She’s not there.”

I let out a few choice expletives.

“Listen, she probably just wanted some space,” he said in a conciliatory voice. “You know she’s not happy with us hanging around all the time. Peter said Roland went after her, and I doubt they’ll find much trouble here in the middle of the afternoon.”