Impulse (17 page)
Fifteen more minutes elapsed; he sensed it without looking at a watch.
“Can I sit on your bike?” a voice like a lush berry asked. He looked at a woman with long legs and a nonexistent red skirt. “I saw your girl take off.” She stepped a little closer. “How about we go for a ride?”
Her finger pinched a crease in his pants and he shifted uncomfortably. She wasn’t his type with the heavy makeup and forward demeanor, not to mention she was a human. Now that Adam was a Mage, he figured it was more practical to stick to your own kind. A heavy cloud of perfume penetrated through his helmet and he wrinkled his nose. He preferred the natural smell of a woman.
She eased in closer with a sultry smile. “Maybe I could just climb on while you let the engine run. Would you like that?”
He’d seen it a million times since he bought that damn bike. Women didn’t need to see your face. Man and machine gave off a sexual vibe.
“Pretty please?”
He looked up and catapulted off the bike. Cheri was making her way out of the bar and she wasn’t alone. Some asshole had a hold of her upper arm. Friend or not, Adam wasn’t about to let anyone handle her like that.
He loosened the strap to his helmet. “Take your hands off her!” he roared.
Adam crossed the parking lot in six seconds and stood beneath a beam of angry light.
“We were just saying goodbye, weren’t we?” Cheri jerked her arm free and scowled.
The man’s stance told him that he wasn’t taking Adam seriously—not until he grabbed the guy’s wrist and twisted it behind his back. Adam shoved him into the brick wall and pinned his other shoulder to keep him still. Didn’t take but a minute to sense that he was also a Mage.
“What are you doing on human turf?” Adam ground through his teeth.
“The fuck are
you
doing on human turf?” the Mage countered. “Because I’m having a beer.” Long hair sloppily stuck to his sweaty neck. “If you wanted to hold my hand, you should have asked.”
Adam put pressure on the man’s wrist until he growled out in pain and kicked him in the leg. Hard enough that Adam stepped back and lost his grip when the Mage threw his elbow out and knocked Adam’s helmet. “What the fuck is up with that?”
“Leave him alone,” Cheri stamped out harshly. “I mean it.”
“Shut up, bitch. Nobody asked you.”
Perspiration beaded on Adam’s brow and he looked at Cheri. “Do you know him?”
As if it even mattered. Anger was flooding his veins like poison.
The roughneck continued poking Adam’s helmet with his fingers. He was one poke away from being knocked flat on his ass.
“An old friend.
Was
an old friend,” she said.
“Do you two fuck with that on?” The Mage laughed with a wheeze.
Adam’s neck flew back when he was poked for the last time. In his human life, his friends called him by his last name, Razor. It was more than a name—it was a reputation. Adam could throw a sharp uppercut and no one ever saw it coming.
Knuckles hit bone and the man’s jaw snapped up with a nasty split in the chin as the Mage pivoted to the ground.
A dull roar filled Adam’s head and everything went fuzzy. Adam had a flashback of his sister’s death and dropped to his knees, hammering into the man’s face again and again. There was no reasoning. There was only anger. Rage snarled like a dragon, snapping its ugly teeth. Adam hadn’t felt this way since his sister was murdered—snuffed out by a lowlife juicer.
The true reason he chose to become a Mage was that Silver bore a Creator’s mark that was identical to the man who killed his sister in a dirty alley. Mortality put a cap on things like revenge, but as a Mage, he would have all the time in the world. His perception changed becoming a Healer—giving him a new direction. But maybe revenge was his only true purpose in this life.
His rage intensified into a hurricane, leaving a wake of destruction.
Suddenly, rough hands yanked him up by the armpits and threw him into the dirt. The concrete walkway scraped a hole in the elbow of his shirt. Before he could get up, a second Mage kicked him in the gut with a thick boot.
“Stay where you belong, Learner. I can always smell the green ones.”
Adam swept his leg out and knocked the man onto his back.
A crowd formed and Adam hopped to his feet, gripping his side. They couldn’t flash or use their Mage abilities due to the audience. No one was breaking up the fight or calling the cops—the humans were feeding off the action as they clinked their beer bottles and slurred out profanities.
He staggered back to the asshole who had put his hands on Cheri. This wasn’t about right and wrong or good and evil, this was about unleashing his dragon. It lived in a dark place within him where fury slithered around like a viperous snake—hungry teeth gnashing in the darkness, hoping to pierce another with its bite. He dropped to his knees, pushed the man’s shoulder back, and struck him in the jaw with four solid knuckles.
Adam’s head suddenly flew back when the second Mage came up from behind and pulled off his helmet.
“Fucking hell,” someone mumbled. “Look at his face.”
The shame. Right under that urine-colored spotlight in front of the woman he cherished.
Adam’s knees cut into the ground and the bone felt the unforgiving press of the earth.
“You’re a disgrace, and if your Creator had any sense at all, he’d put you out of your misery like a rabid dog,” the Mage muttered out of earshot from the humans.
Embarrassment painted Cheri’s face, and it wasn’t because of his actions. She reached for Adam’s arm, but he shouldered her away and stood on his own. Pain throbbed in his hand like the pulse of vengeance, and a dull ache gnawed in his gut.
Nothing like the ache when he realized how close he was to losing his lifeline—the one person that tethered him to sanity. Cheri acted as if his scars didn’t matter.
They mattered. When they’d made love the night before, it was the first time she wanted the lights turned off. It seemed normal—the way it should be—but that was never Cheri’s style. He didn’t bring it up, but it lingered on his mind like a false note.
Adam lifted the scuffed helmet and wrapped his arm around her small waist, pulling her protectively against him. “Why did we come here?”
They hurried across the parking toward his bike before anyone called the cops.
“You shouldn’t have started anything,” she scolded. “What got into you? He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t walk away from a fight; you were lucky.”
“What did he want from you? These are your friends?”
“He owed me something and… well, let’s just go home.”
Chapter 12
Three days after our return to Cognito, Logan was still ignoring my calls.
On the second day, I quit making the effort. Be angry, be hurt, be nonplussed, but give me the chance to explain. Was it the message Christian sent or the fact that I lied to him and went out of town?
“I’ll dish it, Silver. Logan always made me nervous,” Sunny confessed over the phone. “I don’t like men who stare the way he does. It’s deep, like he’s stalking my every move.”
“Logan isn’t a shy man and you know Chitah’s never break eye contact. He would never hurt me.”
“He behaves like a predator.”
“Oh, like Knox doesn’t look at you like dessert?”
Sunny snorted. “That’s totally different. Obviously, we’re having this conversation because you like him. We’ve been friends for years and I know after Brandon that you’d never let any man in your life that was toxic. You barely let the maintenance man in.” She inserted a thoughtful pause. “He’ll come to his senses.”
“Maybe I don’t want him to.” I curled up in the leather chair by the fireplace and tried to tuck my cold feet beneath me. “I always knew this wouldn’t work out between us, but he was so damn insistent on going through the whole courting thing. I was starting to think that maybe he was different, but this proves me wrong. I just don’t want it to end on this note.”
“You don’t give a compelling argument, Sunny. He’s a grown man ignoring my calls. I guess I misjudged him.”
“That’s just your mean side talking,” she said. “I
know
you better than that. Why don’t you just go see him?”
“Why don’t I write ‘stalker’ on my forehead while I’m at it? The old Sunny would have told me to cut my losses before I got all dickwhipped.”
“On second thought, you’re right. He needs to man up or get lost.”
“I want that on a T-shirt.”
“To wear at your wedding?” she suggested.
I laughed at the mental image and Sunny sighed dramatically.
“Silver, I’ve watched you go through some traumatic stuff. I never have the right words for this kind of stuff, but you deserve happiness even more than I do. What I think doesn’t matter because up until now, he’s treated you good. You’ve never looked happier. I’ll support you no matter what you decide.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, Sunshine. I have to go.”
“Me, too. I’m helping Knox shop around for a custom suit. I can’t wait to see him in something besides those tight shirts.”
“Why does Knox need a suit?”
“We got the invitation, silly.”
I sat up. “For what?”
“To the party, and I’m
so
there.”
“What party?”
I looked over at Simon, who was leaning against the doorway with a loose grin on his face. He whispered, “I hope the suit King Kong will be wearing is not his birthday suit; that’s
not
the surprise I had in mind.”
“Your first year of being a Mage is a big deal,” Sunny said exuberantly. “That was a fancy birthday invitation—gold embossing and everything.”
Simon waggled an eyebrow and I sensed a conspiracy brewing.
“You’re a dead man,” I mouthed at him. He shrugged and disappeared down the hall to the study. Having a few celebratory drinks was one thing, but a party with balloons, cake, and singing made my anxiety level go up. Birthdays were never a big deal in my life, but Sunny always made the waiters sing when she took me out.
“At least there’s enough time for me to find a present and buy a new outfit,” she said. “Who else is coming?”
“The pope, so be sure that you dress appropriate.”
“You’re going to thank me for stepping in to volunteer my services; men never plan these things right. It’s going to be
beautiful
. You just wait. Call me again if you need to talk.”
I capitulated, making her agree not to decorate with balloons or streamers. Some battles weren’t worth putting on all the armor for.
***
“It shouldn’t be
this
hard to make a decision.”
I tapped my fingers on the glass counter and watched Finn with amusement. His eyes flicked indecisively over the colorful display of candy. I tucked the movie tickets in my black pants and shrugged at the cashier.
Finn moved his finger hesitantly in circles. “I think I want the um, the uh…”
Finn had lived a sheltered life, sold by his father and passed off from one man to the next, never allowed in public because owning a Shifter was illegal. Finn was clueless when it came to the modern world, outside of what he’d learned on the computer. He could tell you all about the geography of the Middle East but didn’t know how to use a gumball machine.
He was mesmerized by the smell of buttered popcorn, the dazzling display of the marquee, and the concession stand. In many ways, Finn reminded me of a toddler. I watched him experience the most basic things for the first time.
He had been badly beaten most of his life and Logan cautioned that his animal was unpredictable. We kept a close watch on him in public to make sure that he didn’t lose control when overstimulated or frightened.
Nero had branded the letter N on Finn’s arm as a reminder that he was nothing more than property. Finn didn’t like wearing shirts that let it show, so Logan bought him mid-length sleeves. Remembering how he looked in that cell—bloody and lifeless—made my blood boil. No one deserved to be treated that way.
Despite my rift with Logan, Finn would never feel neglected as a result. He was so excited when I invited him to the movies that he hung up the phone before I could tell him the start time. Justus came along and when the car eased up to the building, I peered out the window, hoping to see Logan, but Finn was sitting alone on the stoop, playing with a yo-yo.
