Page 30 of Take

I heard the roar of another bike and glanced at Jasper who was now in front of the plane checking the rusted propeller. I quickly flipped open the saddlebag and took out my blades, one in each hand. I backed toward Fiona, keeping my eyes on the direction of the sound of the bike. Had those men followed us? No, there would be two bikes or a car.

I kept backing up until I bumped into something hard—Jasper. His hands slid down my arms to cover my hands on the blades at my sides. “Planning on cutting up my plane, sunshine?”

I nodded to the tree-covered area where we had come from. “Someone’s coming.”

I shuddered when his breath drifted across the lobe of my ear. “Damien. And I’d advise not fucking with him. He’s still pissed off at the female race.”

Damien and Xamien were brothers and nothing alike. Damien’s nickname was ‘women hater,’ he was impatient and volatile and had one hell of an attitude. He lived as a Solitary in Florida and used to be called into assist a Talde when needed. That changed. Now, he hunted a girl—Abby.

Damien hopped off his bike, not a cruising bike like Jasper’s, but a red racing bike, and strode toward us.

Jasper leaned into me. “Feel free to use ‘yes, sir.’”

I jabbed my elbow back into his abdomen and hit solid mass. He’d been ready for it.

Damien stopped in front of us, legs braced, arms crossed and not a sliver of the man I’d encountered a number of months ago. His eyes were like looking into muddy water, unable to see what was beneath the surface. Damien looked as I had at one time . . . void of emotion. Living and breathing, but only in the mechanical sense.

There was no hand shake, slap on the back, how are you, formalities between the men. Right to the point.

Jasper threw him his keys. “If we’re lucky, they’ll follow you,” Jasper said. “I suggest going South. You have a chick to ride on the back?”

Damien nodded. “Yeah. Down the road. Anything else?”

Jasper shrugged. “Run by Adrian’s and see how he’s doing?”

“Fuck you,” Damien muttered then shook his head. I was wondering what the big deal was when he said, “I’m not falling for that again. Fuckin’ bullet hurt like hell.”

Jasper chuckled then gestured with a head tilt toward me. “She shot me in the thigh.”

Damien’s brows lifted. “Did you not get her off after you fucked her?”

I snorted. “Jesus, I’m standing right here.”

Jasper, whose hands still rested on top of mine that held my blades, tightened. “Don’t worry sunshine. I’d never do that to you. My women come first—literally.”

This time, I slammed my heel onto the bridge of his foot.

He grunted then let me go, but I heard the subtle chuckle follow me. “Luckily, she’s a Healer. Unluckily, she has an attitude.” I pulled away from him and turned my back, pretending to admire the rust bucket Fiona while I listened to their conversation. “Any leads on Abby?”

“No,” Damien said.

“You look into what I asked?”

“Yeah. Sounds like it might be him and if it is . . . more than you can deal with.” Were they talking about Abby or me? “Might want to . . . end this. Odds aren’t in your favor on this one.”

Silence.

I looked over my shoulder at them. Jasper had his head down, arms crossed and back stiff. Damien stood braced, arms at his sides and was looking at me with his shadowy eyes.

“No,” Jasper said.

Damien’s gaze jerked back to Jasper. “You invested?”

“You know me better than that. Just don’t like losing.”

Damien looked at me again and his penetrating gaze hesitated on my arms—my scars. I shifted uneasily and rubbed my arms, not liking how intensely he was staring at me.

“Don’t let her fool you. They’re all cruel bitches,” Damien said and then turned on his heel and strode to Jasper’s bike. He unhooked the saddlebag and tossed it toward us.

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