Page 12 of Tabitha

Rocky, our retired military dog, grumbles under his breath at the tension at the table, and I reach down and scratch him behind the ear. The black German shepherd groans and leans into my touch in a demand for more, his tongue lolling out playfully.

Everyone in the café is watching our every move—the same as they have been watching us since we first arrived three weeks ago. The small town is like a fucking fishbowl, eyes watching us everywhere we go.

Not surprising, since Harpersville is a full militia town.

Anyone who is a stranger is viewed as the enemy.

Two Harleys pull up outside the café, the rumble of their exhaust loud in the silence of the town. The townspeople rubberneck as they watch the bikers park. Since Banks and his crew are the only ones who ride bikes, I expected to see his men.

Our welcoming committee has been stalking us wherever we go, harassing and heckling us, doing everything they can to drive us out of town, though they’re careful not to lay a finger on us. Crime has basically stopped since we arrived, but I don’t expect it to continue for much longer.

When the helmet is removed, the last thing I expected to see was a female. Long, glorious raven curls tumble around her shoulders, the black strands glinting in the sun. Silver shimmers at the edge of her curls, creating a stunning image whenever she moves.

“Who is that?” River whispers in a hushed, awed voice, completely still for the first time all day.

Not that I can blame him. The woman is captivating, and it’s not only her beauty that ensnares my attention. There is something almost otherworldly about her that draws my gaze…and, apparently, everyone else’s in town as well.

Bast pushes to his feet, rolls his shoulders, his bones cracking, then he finishes his coffee and places the cup back onto the table. “That is our contact.”

I quickly glance at her companion, instantly disliking the asshole. This isn’t the place anyone should bring a woman, much less one like her. I curl my hands into fists to resist the urge to punch the fucker for putting her at risk. “Who the fuck brings a woman along for an assignment?”

Bast chuckles under his breath, a wry smile on his lips when he glances at me. “She’s the contact.”

“The fuck you say?!” River jumps to his feet, his smile wide, his eyes sparkling with life, and he quickly brushes the crumbs from his clothing.

I’m floored, my mind going completely blank.

I rise to my feet slowly, Rocky following me closely, a whine catching in his throat at my distress. I scratch him behind the ear and follow the others reluctantly, everything inside me rebelling at the thought of putting her in danger.

Nope, this isn’t going to work.

I’ve seen what happens when a pretty girl like her gets mixed up with people like us.

They die, just like my sister.

I refuse to allow it to happen again.

I was away when my sister died, but I am here now.

I can protect her.

And the best way to do that is by sending her packing before Banks catches sight of her.

Chapter Four

TABITHA

Harpersville is everything that has been advertised in the reports—small, homey, and creepy as fuck. Driving into town is like going back in time…Stepford style. Most of the women are wearing dresses and walk with their children firmly clutched in their hands. The storefronts look like they were built in the seventies and never updated.

The men are the gun toting types. Everyone is wearing at least one weapon, including the children, and they look like they want to use us as target practice.

There are a few men scattered throughout that don’t fit. They idly chat with each other, drinking beers, but seem to be watching the town and its people more than anything else.

Guards.

Since the whole town is militia—old-school conspiracy theorists—they must hate that strangers have taken over. While some extremists might love the changes, love the revitalization of the militia, the old ones are smart enough to be afraid and keep their mouths shut.

Too many people have disappeared since Legion took control of the town.

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