Her Werewolf Hero. Michele Hauf
of Indiana Jones Wild West gunslinger. No one would mess with that man. He knew how to take down harpies.
“Purgatory heart? What the...? He’s not making sense. That tracking device landed on me. Right over my heart.”
And if she gave it any amount of thought, putting the words retriever and find and seize together...
“Oh, hell, no. No one is seizing my heart. I think we’ve shared enough adventure for one day, Mr. Jones.”
Checking through the gas station windows, she couldn’t see his tall, dark-haired figure. Must have wandered toward the back of the store.
Grabbing her camera bag, Kizzy slid out of the truck, and, with careful glances toward the red-brick-walled station’s front doors, she ran around beside the building and down an alley hedged on both sides by glossy-leaved forsythia that had long ago shed its bright yellow flowers.
She wasn’t afraid of walking through the town so late. It wasn’t people she had to worry about. She had to hope there had only been five harpies. Of which, Bron had slain them all. She was no longer in the mood to take pictures of vicious flying bird men.
A stretch of garage bays where the gas station mechanics worked on vehicles grew up behind the hedges to her right. The sounds of tools clanking and a hydraulic lift disguised her stumble over a mess of tangled plastic shopping bags and weeds.
Her rental was at the city center. It was a small town, population around eight thousand. When she’d resided here before the accident, she’d lived in a quaint neighborhood, but a handful of blocks’ walk from her elementary and middle schools; it had been her home since birth. Small town. Small, safe upbringing.
Wildly expansive imagination.
Oh, yeah, she had always been the weird girl.
Striding quickly, she guessed it was a couple miles’ walk to her rental apartment. She dodged left and let out a yelp when a growl alerted her to a dark, man-shaped shadow looming beneath a willow tree.
“Bron?”
“Sorry, sweetie, your dog of a boyfriend isn’t here to save you.”
“My dog...?” She didn’t understand that. Bron was actually very handsome.
A man stepped from the shadows. Thin, blond and clad in enough black to give a goth a run for his money. Goths had never been big in Thief River Falls. But they did have a few token outliers that represented all sorts. He grinned at her, revealing fangs that jutted downward from his upper row of teeth.
“Seriously?” Kizzy knew to her bones those were not the fake dental acrylic fangs some goths sported. She clutched her camera bag, then thought better of taking advantage of a photographic moment at a time like this. “Vampires exist, too?”
“Surprise,” he offered with a splay of hands and no humor whatsoever. “You want a bite?”
“Uh...” Did she?
Was she considering the offer? No, she was not. He’d taken her by surprise and... It was just so cool to learn about yet another paranormal creature.
And then her brain did the right thing and switched to survival mode. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
She took a few cautious steps backward and gripped the gold cross on the chain around her neck. She wasn’t deeply religious, but when faced with a vampire—oh, yeah, she believed.
“Not going to help,” the vampire said and laughed. “Not baptized, bitch!”
She didn’t know what that meant—the man lunged for her and managed to grip her wrist. Kizzy shrieked. She was three blocks away from the gas station and didn’t think Bron would hear her over the sounds echoing out from the garage. For all those times she had mused over whether or not carrying a wooden stake would be a wise decision, she now regretted not going with her instincts.
The vampire was strong. Even as she struggled and planted her feet, he managed to drag her under the long, spindly branches of the willow tree. It was darker under there, and they weren’t in a residential area. Most businesses had closed for the evening. Would anyone hear her scream?
He twisted her wrist, yanking her closer. Kizzy went for the scream again.
“Quiet! Just a quick bite, and then I’ll take that heart of yours.”
“My heart? H-how do you know about that?”
“Followed the vibes, baby.” He grinned a bloody smile. One of his fangs must have cut into his lower lip.
Vibes? What was he talking about? He sounded more like a stoned sixties hippie than a bloodthirsty creature of the night.
This was not happening.
But, yes, it was. And if she wanted to escape unbitten—and, apparently, with her heart intact—Kizzy needed to get smart. Fast.
She grabbed at the willow branches with her free hand. The long, slender branches were remarkably strong. Pulling up with that hand, and using the elastic-like give of the branches for propulsion, she was able to kick up toward the vampire and landed him on the chest. He released her with a grunt—but then a vicious growl preceded his lunge for her. Arms opening to clutch, he wasn’t able to grab her again because something slammed him against the tree trunk.
Someone, that was.
“Bron.” She gasped and stumbled backward, then answered the call of the adrenaline rush and fell to her knees, clutching her chest and, in the process, her camera bag.
Beneath the concealing umbrella of the willow’s slender fall of branches, the vampire howled. Bron stepped back, a wooden stake clutched in hand. He replaced the stake in the holster strapped to his thigh.
“Crap,” Kizzy muttered in awe.
She crawled to the side to get a better view. The creature who had threatened her diffused into a cloud of ash, which then settled in a heavy heap before Bron’s feet.
“Ohmygosh.” She leaned forward, clutching her stomach. She could get sick, but she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and just... “Ohmygosh.”
“Come with me,” Bron said as he strolled past her. “Unless you want to take your chances on your own again?”
Against bloodthirsty vampires? She shook her head and forced herself up to her feet. “I’m right behind you. Could you walk a little slower? On second thought, I’d like to be beside you just in case something comes for me from behind.”
He thrust back his hand, and she grasped it. It was a sure, warm clutch. Making a fast pace toward the gas station, she couldn’t for the life of her figure why she’d so stupidly fled from him in the first place. With her hand in his, everything felt right. Like he would protect her.
Until he tried to seize her heart.
“Wait.” Kizzy tugged him to a stop in the middle of the hedge-lined alleyway. “Are you going to protect me?”
He bowed his head and propped his hands at his hips, looking up at her with a rueful sort of admonishing stare. She’d had enough of dominant males who liked to tell a woman what to do. And her relationship with Keith had ended horribly. And left her scarred. So she wasn’t about to give this guy the benefit of his alpha take-charge attitude.
“Answer me!”
“I don’t know.” He splayed out his hands. “I honestly don’t know what the hell is going on right now. I will protect you from whatever comes after you, but—”
“But what about when you come after me? You said you were here to retrieve my heart. That’s just...so not cool.” Her fingers shook, and she shivered as if the wicked Minnesota winter had suddenly swept in on an icy wind. “I don’t know what’s going on. You’re freaking me out. Creatures are coming after me. I can’t trust you, but I think I need to because I’m not prepared to stake vampires or dodge harpies. But you apparently are.”