Part 10 (1/2)

Fly smiled, wiping spilled beer off the counter. ”You figure it, too, kid.”

He hadn't called me kid in a long time. Not since that first night when I'd shown him I wasn't a kid. He still wore the scar to prove it.

That same nagging thought came back, the one that said that maybe, just maybe, my father hadn't been lying. That maybe he had been trying to make amends when he'd sent me to hunt for Bryan. To bring him home. If that were true though, then I'd f.u.c.ked up even worse than I thought.

But before I could consider it further, a sound caught my attention. From the way Fly jerked his head toward the noise, I knew he heard it, too. Glancing at the office door once, I walked to the front of the bar to greet my new visitors.

”Z,” Fly called before I went out.

I turned to him.

”You need me?”

I shook my head. ”Make sure she stays put.”

He nodded, and I walked out the door. There, climbing off their bikes, were six of Rage's biggest men. I recognized them from their jackets. The only one I knew by name was the one who climbed off last, the largest of them all: Xander Marks. Alpha of Rage, and Aria's grandfather.

I stood a few feet from the door, my eyes locked on my visitors. Xander's soldiers watched me, bodies stiff, fists clenching and unclenching, readying for battle while their leader took in the lot, the bikes and trucks parked there as well as the building itself. I saw him pause at the window to my office, but the shutters were still closed. Although he didn't need to see to know she was there. He would pick up her scent.

He finally turned to me, stepping closer, a.s.sessing. He stopped a few feet away. ”Zane.”

”Xander.”

”I've heard about this place. Seems like you're doing good business.”

”Business is fine.” He came for one reason and one reason alone: to take back his granddaughter. But I had no intention of giving her back. I realized in that moment, in fact, that I'd fight to keep her.

”How's your father? Heard you paid him a visit recently.”

f.u.c.k, the man knew. Which meant he also knew about the black rose in Aria's car.

”You making it your business to keep up with my business, Xander?”

He smiled and adjusted the cuffs on his suit. Funny that he wore a full suit yet rode a bike like he'd been born on one. He was clean cut, good-looking, standing tall and proud, with the only hint of who he truly was the colorful ink that crept along his neck - Rage's logo forever painted into his flesh.

”When your business interferes with my own, you bet I do.” The grin he flashed was toothy. He wasn't here to make friends. How had he handled Derek when the man had come for Heather? ”You have something here that belongs to me, son.” Ah, there it was. Cutthroat Xander, Alpha of Rage.

”I wouldn't take something from you.” It was true. I hadn't taken anything. It - she - had come to me.

I was stalling though. Unsure how to handle this, knowing it would come down to a fight, and even with Fly's love of a good fight, we were outnumbered. We'd lose.

”Let's cut the bulls.h.i.+t, son.”

”I'm not your son.”

”No, you're not. Shame. I'd have made something out of you.”

I straightened my back. Rising to my full height, I had two inches on him.

”I will ask you exactly once to bring her to me. Otherwise, I will go in there and get her myself, and I swear I'll kill every motherf.u.c.ker in there on my way.”

”She came to me. She sought me out, not the other way around. And, from what I've heard, you're not winning granddaddy of the year anytime soon.”

One of the men took a step toward me, a growl coming from his chest, but a snap of Xander's fingers and he stopped. Xander closed the distance between us until we stood two feet apart. It would take me seconds to s.h.i.+ft if I had to. But I didn't want to have to.

”Someone put a hit on her,” I offered.

”So I've heard.”

”She's under my protection.”

At that, he laughed He outright laughed in my face, leaning back, glancing at his men who then chuckled as well. Sad thing was, he was right, considering the past.

”If I recall, Bryan was under your protection, too. Or so you'd led him to believe.” I heard someone c.o.c.k a gun and looked at the man, questioning. Xander answered me though. ”Easier,” he said. ”Less mess to clean up, less clothes to tear apart.” He was talking about it being easier to kill with a gun than s.h.i.+fting to fight. He was talking about it as if killing me was the most casual thing in the world. The man raised his gun and took aim. ”You're a f.u.c.king liar, O -”

”Stop!”

f.u.c.k! Did she ever f.u.c.king listen? Ever do as she was told?

All eyes turned to Aria as she came running out of the bar, Fly right behind her, shaking his head.

She looked at the man who held the gun then at me, and, finally, at Xander. I'm not sure anyone took a breath in that moment, but I watched her face, saw it tightening, eyes narrowing. Shaking Fly's hand from her shoulder, she walked slowly toward me and took my hand, glaring at her grandfather. That was when Xander's nose went up into the air, and I had no doubt what he had scented, what he now knew. And when his raging eyes trained back on me, I also knew he was p.i.s.sed as f.u.c.k.

”You claimed her?” he roared.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Fly grab Aria away as I lunged at Xander, meeting his stride, s.h.i.+fting as we collided. Aria screamed. More men s.h.i.+fted, and the battle began, Fly joining me, Xander at my throat, me at his, jaws tearing at me from all directions. If it were he and I, we'd be evenly matched. I was Alpha, too, or made to be that. This man didn't scare me, but there was no way I could fight him and his goons off.

But when in my periphery I saw her move, saw her pick up the gun the man had discarded, and take aim then change her mind, point into the air and shoot, I had to stop. We both had to. Killing each other would not save Aria and, ultimately, we were after the same result.

He must have known it, too, because we both backed away, the fighting around us coming to an abrupt halt charged with aggression. I faced her. I wanted her to see me, to have no doubt as to what I was. This was truth. This was reality. I was a killer.

Her hazel eyes met mine, a sheen of tears over them. She stared, trembling, looking me over, taking in my size, the black of my fur, the length and sharpness of my teeth. I was far more deadly than that blade she carried in her boot or the gun she let drop from her hands.

Taking a step back, she ran into the bar.

Chapter Thirteen.

Aria ”Oh my G.o.d. Oh my G.o.d. Oh my f.u.c.king G.o.d.”

f.u.c.k! My hands needed to stop shaking so I could lock the d.a.m.ned door.

Lock the door. How pathetic. Those - things - a lock on a door wasn't going to keep them out.

But I did it anyway, finally, and sat down on the couch, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to stop shaking.

What the f.u.c.k had I just seen? What in h.e.l.l was that? I rubbed my eyes, smearing tears across my face. I'd thought Zane was - what? What did I think he was doing when he was telling me those things about the packs? About Bryan? About me? He'd said he was from Savage Blood and that my grandfather was from the opposing pack, Rage. He'd said he'd left because he'd thought his pack had put the hit out on my family. And now, on me? Were those - animals - what had killed my mother and brother? Had they also killed my father? Would they kill me? Is that what those three wolves that had shown up when I'd been cleaning up the broken gla.s.s in my car had intended to do? Tear me to pieces? And Fly. I'd seen him s.h.i.+ft tonight, too. He'd been the one to save me that night with the three...dogs.