Page 115 of Fearless

“…at all times,” he was saying, pacing back and forth in front of the sofa, hands jammed at his hips, his posture comical. He should have been a drill sergeant, Ava reflected.

“Why doesn’t he just duct tape you to his back?” Aidan whispered from the corner of his mouth.

Ava bit down on her tongue against a giggle.

“What?” Ghost whipped around on them, dark eyes flicking between the two of them.

Aidan cleared his throat and said, “I was just explaining to your sweet princess here how important it is to listen to your wise–”

“Stuff it,” Ghost said, and resumed pacing.

Aidan lifted his brows at her and she pressed a hand over her mouth to keep from snorting.

Princess?she mouthed, when she could. Kiss my ass. She stuck out her tongue at him.

He feigned a deep bow in a moment when Ghost was turning on his heel and had his back to them, sitting upright and munching jerky innocently when their dad passed them.

Ares groaned dramatically and flopped down across Ava’s feet, driving the heels of her pumps into the floor and turning her ankles at uncomfortable angles.

“We know their MO,” Ghost said, hands clasping behind his back, now. “They don’t want to fight; they want to terrorize. Which means” – sharp, direct glance at Ava – “they hit us where it hurts, in the soft spots. And thanks to what happened last time” – harsh frown, brow crinkling – “they’ll remember you.” He halted and faced her fully, a cross between an angry school principal and a biker king, both at once, and her daddy also. “Even if you’re all grown up.”

She nodded, and felt the tremors move beneath her skin as she swallowed. Last time, she’d been eight. Last time had been the drive-by, and Erik and Peter Larsen climbing through her bedroom window in the middle of the night.

“I’m not the only one they’ll remember,” she said with a shaky breath.

Ghost’s expression was grim. “God help the man who tries to take him against his will. Merc I’m not worried about.” But his brows plucked tighter, like maybe he was starting to worry – for a reason that had nothing to do with the Carpathians.

Ava bit her lip and wished she hadn’t mentioned him.

“Now,” Ghost said, ramping up again. “You–”

Maggie had a way of announcing herself with nothing but her footfalls. The door burst open and in she strode, resplendent as always in just jeans and boots and plain cotton, Jackie at her side in her work clothes, looking comfy with her new role as vice president’s wife.

Maggie pushed up her sunglasses and Ava saw the glimmer of real fear in her mother’s eyes, along with a healthy dose of aggression. “Carpathians,” she told Ghost. “In front of Ramona’s on Main. Counted five of them.”

“Three piece patches,” Jackie said. “A wolf in the center.”

“A werewolf,” Ava said, and everyone glanced at her sharply. She shrugged. “The Carpathian Mountains – that’s Dracula country. It has to be a werewolf on their cuts.”

Ghost received the news impassively, his only sign of distress a twitch along his solid jaw. “Monsters. No big surprise there.” He glanced at Maggie. “Did they see you?”

She shook her head. “We stayed in Flanders’ till they were inside the flower shop.”

“Flower shop?” Aidan said. “Gonna take a wild guess they weren’t after bouquets for their ladies.”

Jackie said, “Like any of those women are ‘ladies.’ ”

Maggie snorted and Ghost twitched a grin.

Then Ghost sobered and looked at Aidan. “The guys are on their way in?”

“Yup.”

He nodded. “Tell Jace to get his ass in here and I’ll let Harry take his place.” To Jackie, he said, “You heading back to work?”

She shook her head. “Called my boss and told him I was puking my guts up. He said to take the rest of the day.” She tilted her head toward Maggie, red bob swinging. “Figured I could hang with Mags in the office.”

“Good. You” – Ava – “are not to leave the property without Littlejohn. Understood?”

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