From the “Monsters” PNR Series,
Book One: The Good, The Bad, The Cursed
By Heather Killough-Walden
Cain was quiet while Jake filled his own gas tank. Human motorcycle riders would do well to remain silent while fueling so they could listen carefully and be certain not to over-fill the tank. But Jake wasn’t human, and neither was Cain, and they didn’t need to remain quiet to hear the fuel in the tank just fine. Cain was thinking. And Jake had the sinking feeling he knew what about.
He could feel Cain’s eyes on him. It was unnerving to be scrutinized by such a perceptive man, even after half a century and despite the fact they were best friends. “She knows what we are?” Cain finally asked point blank.
Jake didn’t have to reply. Cain knew damn well Angel had found out about their true nature. With what she’d been through at the hands of his kind, he was impressed at how well she’d handled the news. She’d neither set him on fire nor chopped off his head. Given she was a warden, he was considering it a win.
Jake braced one arm on the seat of his bike as he filled the tank. It wasn’t a huge tank; it took all of a minute or two before he was done.
“So, you baptize this union yet?” Cain asked as he took the fuel pump from Jake’s hand and inserted it deep into his own gas tank.
Jake stiffened. He turned and leaned back on the seat of his bike, crossing his arms over his chest and his legs at the ankles. He felt wound tight, ready to snap. “You serious right now?” He looked up, meeting Cain’s piercing blue gaze.
“I’ve met your girl, Jake,” Cain said. He laughed softly, no doubt recalling how he’d helped Angel when she’d run from Santiago, right into Monsters territory.
No need to remind me. Even that made Jake mad with jealousy. He didn’t want another man’s hands on Angel…. But if it had to be anyone else who’d helped her that night, he’d have chosen Cain. “She’s one in a billion,” Cain continued, “and I’m betting she’s under your skin. So if she knows what you are, then what’s the hold up?”
Jake looked at the ground and sighed. “I’m not having this discussion with you.” Though he now realized this was exactly why Cain had asked him to partner with him on this poker run. He’d wanted to have this talk about Angel. Which meant Jake probably wasn’t going to get out of it, no matter how hard he fought.
No one said no to Cain. Sometimes they begged it… but that was different.
Cain replaced the fuel nozzle in its casing at the pump. “Jake, a member of my team is driven to the point of distraction, and I can’t have that.” His voice was steady and calm as always, but stern. “Angel wants you, right?”
Jake felt a twinge in his gums where his fangs were once again reminding him they were there and ready. Yeah, she wanted him. Her mind might have convinced her it was a very bad idea, but her body disagreed whole heartedly. Jake recalled her hitching breaths, the hammering of her heart, and the scent of her arousal as he’d pinned her to the shining black paint of his car. That, at least, she couldn’t hide from him. “That isn’t the problem,” he ground out.
“Well, I know you want her. Hell, we all know that much. So, take her already.”
“Damn it, Cain….”
Cain recapped his gas tank. He studied Jake in silence, and finally draped his muscled forearm across the left handlebar of his bike. “I get it. You’re scared shitless.”
Jake said nothing. There was no point in either confirming or denying it. Cain already knew. The bastard knew everything.
“You think you’ll lose control and turn her.”
No, I don’t think I will. I know I will.
“Would that be such a bad thing, Crow?”
If Jake had been drinking, he would have choked. His head snapped up, and his green eyes met irises of powerful blue. “I wouldn’t let her go, Cain.” If he turned her, he would keep her. He would never let her leave his side. She would belong to him body, heart, and soul. Because there was no way in hell he would let her sink her little fangs into another man’s throat. Ever.
“I know,” said Cain.
Jake’s gaze narrowed. “What are you telling me right now?”
Cain regarded him in more enigmatic silence for a moment, then he straightened, coming around his bike to mount it. Once in the seat, he kicked up the stand with the heel of his boot and rolled the bike backward with strong legs until he was parallel to Jake, who hadn’t moved.
Cain stopped flush with him and looked him in the eye. “Jake, this isn’t Neverland. Whatever it might look like, boys still grow into men. And men need women.” He nodded at Jake’s bike. “That saddle is big enough for two.”
The leader of the Monsters clan started up his bike. The thunder of a V-twin engine filled the gas station’s lot. But Jake heard his companion’s next words loud and clear anyway.
“And frankly, I’m sick of seeing nothing but your ugly mugs around me all the time.” He revved the engine, making it bellow before adding, “I could use something beautiful to look at for a change.”
Jake watched Cain tear out of the lot. His words worked their way through him like a light switch flicking on, a contract being signed.
Permission granted.
And with a small smile creeping onto his sensuous lips and new purpose fueling his determination, Jacob Crow mounted his own motorcycle. The ’88 Harley Davidson Softail Springer’s V-twin engine bellowed like a caged thunderstorm begging to be released. He kicked up its stand and granted that release, following Cain’s tail lights into the fog-filled night.
From the “Monsters” PNR Series,
Book One: The Good, The Bad, The Cursed
By Heather Killough-Walden
Coming Halloween, 2018
