Page 52 of Bad Demon

I felt the tremble move through her when she said that, and she actually clung to my hand tighter—and not just because we were about to walk into a bar owned by hellhounds. I ground my teeth. She still wouldn’t fucking open up to me, and I’d tried all day to get her to tell me something, fucking anything, but she wasn’t talking.

“Nah, babe, that isn’t happening, not after what happened.”

“So chivalrous,” she said, trying to be a smart-ass, but I saw her relief in her long exhale, in the way her muscles relaxed, even if she was trying to hide it because I now knew what to look for. “So, how long’s your shift?”

“Until closing.” I shrugged. “All depends on how busy we are.” I could have gotten someone to cover for me, but I needed an excuse to get her out of the room and back to her old, feisty, attitude-filled self.

It was only nine, but the bar was already filling up. I led her around to the barstool I’d had Rome save for her.

“You sit here. You’ll be close to me, and if you need anything, just let me know, yeah?”

Fender walked over and held out his fist, and I bumped it. Then, his amber eyes slid from me to Fern, then back.

“Now, I know why you haven’t been around much.” He leaned against the bar. “Hey, honey. The name’s Fender. What’s yours?”

“Her name is none of your concern.” I slid a whiskey his way.

He held up his hands. “Just being friendly.”

Fern’s eyes were wide, and I watched as they slid from Fen to Loth, then Jag, before hitting War as they all stood across the room, their leather vests and patches, telling everyone in the room exactly who and what they were. Her entire body stiffened. She was about to bolt. I gave Fender a look, telling him to fuck off without words, and he arched a brow but sauntered off.

I poured her a beer. “Take a breath, Tink. No one here is going to fuck with you, okay?”

“I know. I’m fine,” she said, chewing her lip as she glanced at my brothers and back.

She was lying—even I could see that.

Over the next few hours, I stayed busy while the bar filled with shifters—mostly wolf, a couple of crows as well, and a handful of witches. I topped off Fern’s beer when it needed it, hoping that might help her relax, but she stayed on edge, scanning the room, as if she expected a monster to walk through the crowd and snatch her off her stool.

Problem was, my female was hot as fuck, even covered from neck to ankle. There was no missing the curves; add in that blood-red hair, those wide peridot eyes, her cute upturned nose, and a mouth like that? Yeah, she drew attention.

Roman had spotted her about ten seconds after we walked in and had instantly headed in her direction. He’d pulled up short when he got a whiff of my scent on her though, and my bared teeth had helped explain the situation further. After that, my brothers had seen the way it was and stayed away out of respect.

The wolves though? Were another story, and one in particular had been eyeing her most of the night. I’d been watching him. Kaleb was young, cocky, and arrogant as fuck. He’d obviously finally decided to make a move, and he was weaving his way through the crowd now, focused on Fern.

“Hey,” he said when he stopped beside her, flashing her a grin.

“Hey,” she said, not really looking at him.

“I couldn’t help but notice you across the room. Can I buy you a drink?”

“No, thanks,” she said.

He leaned in and scented her. “What exactly are you, gorgeous?”

I quickly finished pouring a drink for the guy in front of me and handed it over, then strode toward them.

Fern was scowling up at him, and still, the fucker reached out and touched her hair. She jerked back, fire flashing in her now-red eyes for just a moment before she forced them to return to normal because there were humans in this room, and they definitely didn’t need to see that. Her hand moved to where I couldn’t see it. I assumed she was going for her knife. My female did not like to be touched—definitely not by some random asshole—and I sure as fuck didn’t like it either. He reached for her again, and I grabbed his wrist before he could touch her.

The wolf spun toward me.

I gave the little fuck a shake, rattling his shit for brains. “You don’t touch her,” I growled. “You never touch her.”

He paled. “I was just—”

I slapped him in the face with his own hand.

Beer sprayed out of Fern’s mouth, and she bit her smiling lips together.

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