Victor Page 11

  "Too much to drink? I haven't been drinking," she insisted, pushing out her chest and pouting in a way that made me want to take her lips right then and there. "I'm just having fun. Do you have something against people having fun?"

  She wasn't making much sense but I knew it was the alcohol talking and tried to humor her. "Leave the party with me and I'll make sure you have some fun," I argued gently.

  "What?" Colton exploded right away. "What the hell? You're hitting on her. What's the matter with you, man. Go find your own girl. I found this one first."

  "Nay," I gritted and pointed into the living room at his earlier conquest. "You found that one first. Samantha will be at least your second girl tonight."

  Finally, Sam looked a little doubtful and edged toward me as curious eyes swung in our direction, probably hoping to see a fight.

  "Find someone else," I hissed, leaning toward Colton and baring my teeth in a snarl. Gargoyles don't have any more teeth than humans but they're slightly larger. And our canines are sharper. So my teeth look savage and intimidating. I ripped Samantha from his grasp. "This one's taken."

  "No, I'm not!" Sam protested, appearing to sober up the slightest bit. "Victor, what are you doing here? You promised you wouldn't do this."

  "When I made that promise I didn't expect you to get drunk at a party and start doing stupid things," I shot back.

  Her hand shot out next. And nailed the side of my face. Slowly, I reached up and rubbed my cheek while Colton snickered.

  "That's for calling me stupid," Samantha burned up at me.

  "I didn't call you stupid," I growled. "I just said…"

  "That she was doing stupid things," Colton finished for me. His eyes narrowed as he eyed me suspiciously. "Is this guy your ex?" he asked.

  "No!" she answered.

  "Is he dangerous?"

  "Yes," I snarled, drowning out Samantha's answer of no.

  She glared up at me for several heartbeats before she turned to Colton. "Do you have a car?" she asked him.

  "Yeah," he answered, and smirked at me over the top of her head.

  Samantha threw back her shoulders and stiffened her spine as she swung back to face me. "I'm leaving with Colton. You know why?"

  I ground my teeth and watched her face.

  "Because he doesn't think I'm stupid."

  "Sam, I—"

  But she cut me off. "I'm leaving and there's nothing you can do about it."

  I widened my stance and clenched my fists. "Maybe I can't stop you," I grated. "But I can sure as hell stop him."

  "Yeah? How're you gonna to do that?" the guy sneered, looking me up and down and probably thinking he could take me just because he had about ten pounds on me.

  I pulled in a long breath and fought for patience. "Believe me, Colton, you don't want to mess with me."

  He took another look at the young woman beside him, his eyes sliding over her curves in a way that made my stomach knot. Then he answered, "I think I'll take my chances." He jammed his shoulder into mine as Sam headed for the front door. "And when I'm doing her in my car tonight, I'll be remembering the look on your face."

  "That's not gonna happen," I snarled, yanking him back with a fist in his T-shirt. He tried to twist away but I tightened my grip. And for several seconds he struggled like a fish on a hook before I shoved him away.

  Looking for Sam, I found her halfway down the hall, swaying on her spiked heels. "C'mon," she threw back over her shoulder. "Let's go, Colton."

  By now I was fairly pissed with her and the way things were going down. But even though I was angry, I couldn't stop looking out for her. "Don't forget your bag," I reminded her in a growl.

  She turned to face me, her eyes wide.

  "You left your purse in the kitchen," I muttered.

  Her eyes softened and for a moment I thought she was going to throw herself into my arms. Yeah, like I could get that lucky. But Colton managed to muscle his way between us and steered her off to the kitchen while she blinked back over her shoulder at me.

  And after Sam had collected her purse, I stood on the sidewalk outside the house and watched her get into Colton's metal-blue sports car. So I had been right about him having money. But as soon as they accelerated down the road, I stepped into the shadows of a tall cottonwood. And with my T-shirt stuffed in a pocket and my hoodie tied around my waist, I spread my wings and lifted into the air.

  Gliding soundlessly on the air currents and cutting corners over the tops of buildings whenever Colton's car made a turn, I followed them a few miles to the other side of town where they pulled into the parking lot of a brightly lit building. The green neon sign flashed the number twenty-one in pulsating intervals so I assumed the place served drinks and wasn't sure how Samantha planned to get in. But I'd heard about fake ID, and if that didn't work, Colton probably had enough cash to pay off the guy at the door.

  Colton steered his car to the deserted end of the parking lot, and by the time he opened his door, I had my hoodie on again and was waiting for him.

  "What the hell?" Colton grunted when he saw me. "How'd you get here so fast?"

  "I told you, you don't want to mess with me," I muttered, eyeing him fiercely as I stalked toward him.

  "Yeah, you said that before and it's getting old. Just what do you plan to do?" he snorted as Samantha stepped from the car and stared across the roof at us. "Talk me to death? Or just scowl at me while I walk your girlfriend into the club?"

  "This is a nice car," I murmured in a low silky voice, stroking my palm over the streamlined mirror that hung on the side of the driver's door.

  "Yeah, it's nice," he sneered like I'd just made the dumbest comment of my entire life. He swung the door closed and locked it. "It's an Audi TT."

  "An Audi, huh?" And with a quick wrench, I tore off the mirror in my hand.

  His eyes went really wide. "Man, you wrecked my car. H-How did you do that? What are you on?"

  With one hand, I grabbed his jacket and slammed him back against the car door. I used my other hand to shove the mirror in his face, the broken wires dangling over his chest. "You see that girl?" I hissed, and tilted my head in Sam's direction. "You touch her in any way that isn't purely platonic and I'll shove this thing in a place that will give a whole new meaning to rear view mirror."

  I think was starting to catch on. Because after I pushed away from him, he kept his eye on me as he edged down the length of the car to the taillights. There, he straightened his jacket and shot me a dark look.

  "I'll be watching," I growled menacingly as Samantha joined him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Grim-faced, I watched Samantha and Colton get past the doorman without any trouble. So I decided to take my chances and try to follow them, even though I wasn't twenty-one and didn't have any ID—fake or otherwise. But the bouncer didn't question me when I paid the twenty dollar cover charge so maybe I looked old enough to him. The short haircut probably helped. Or maybe he didn't care.

  Up on the stage, a band was playing, the lead singer screaming into a microphone while two guitars and a drummer backed him up. Checking the place out, I lifted my gaze to the small colored lights strung along the top of the walls. On one side of the building, a balcony vibrated to the crush of dancers stomping to the music.

  "Nice," I muttered and found a dark place in the shadows beneath the balcony to hang out and watch, ready to spring into action the minute I saw Colton's hand on Samantha's butt or almost anywhere else.

  But he'd been attacked by two voracious girls who were hanging around his neck while Samantha stood a few feet away, looking a little lost and lonely. I wanted to go to her and rescue her, shelter her beneath my wing and get her the hell out of there but I didn't think she'd appreciate me or my presence. So I kept out of sight while the band worked its way through two more numbers and the music built to a crescendo of crashing drums and wailing guitars, culminating in a bright explosion of light and sound.

  The sharp booming noise and fountain of fir
e that poured into the air behind the stage kicked my protective instincts into overdrive as I sprinted for Sam and captured her in the curve of my arm, whipping her through the crowd and out of the club doors. Her feet didn't touch the ground again until we were safely outside.

  I sucked in a lungful of the cool night air. "Are you alright?" I shouted, holding Sam at arm's length, searching her arms and legs for any sign of injury.

  She looked up at me like I was insane. "What was that all about?"

  I thought she was equally crazy for questioning me. I'd heard the roar of explosion. I'd seen white fire boil into the air. "I-I…thought you were in danger," I gasped.

  She narrowed her eyes as she gazed up at me and shook her head slightly. "From fireworks?"

  "Those…were fireworks?" I stammered. I'd heard of fireworks, of course. But unfortunately, I'd also heard of bombs exploding in crowded clubs where young people went to dance. And I'd never seen either so I'd mistaken the fireworks for a bomb. But I couldn't tell her that because it would just confirm her suspicion that I was nuts.

  "Like they don't have fireworks in England," she muttered and spun around to return inside. But the doorway was clogged with people fighting their way out of the place, a dense cloud of smoke billowing around them as they coughed and choked and spilled into the parking lot.

  I lifted an eyebrow as I surveyed the scene. "I thought fireworks were more appropriate for outdoor displays," I said, trying not to sound I-told-you-so even though I was definitely feeling it.

  "Lots of concerts do fireworks," she muttered defensively. "But it usually takes some careful planning."

  "Looks like they weren't careful enough," I grunted, shaking my head at the confusion in the parking lot and keeping my eye out for Colton who eventually emerged, sans groupies. I wanted to bust his skull when he stumbled toward his car without even trying to find Samantha. But while I was busy being disgusted with him, the sound of distant sirens lifted into the air and drew closer.

  A sudden look of panic widened Sam's hazel eyes. "The police are coming," she moaned, clutching the shoulder strap on her purse and backing up a few steps. "I have to get out of here. I'm underage. I'm not even supposed to be at a place like this. If I get booked, I'll probably lose my scholarship."

  "Give me your shoes," I muttered, looking around and making some quick decisions.

  "What?"

  "If we start running right now, I think we can make that bus," I said, pointing at the heavy vehicle lumbering down the street in our direction.

  And with her shoes tucked under my arm, I grabbed her hand and started running.

  We reached the bus just before it closed its doors, climbing the steps while Sam flashed her bus pass and I fed a few dollars into the meter. Then we were swaying down the aisle as it pulled away from the curb.

  The bus was empty except for an older couple sitting in the front; they smiled up at us as we made our way to the back where we took one of the bench seats that faced sideways, still breathless and laughing. Behind us, a whole army of flashing lights lit up the club's parking lot like it was some kind of police holiday.

  "That was close," Samantha snickered and gave me a thankful smile.

  "How do you walk in these things?" I asked as I handed her heels back to her.

  "Very carefully," she admitted with a low giggle. She slipped the shoes on her feet then sighed and pushed her hair back while slanting a look at me from the corner of her eye.

  "Sorry if I ruined your evening," I said, propping my elbows on the back of the seat.

  "What were you doing at that party?" she asked, and tucked her purse beside her.

  "I'm new to Boulder," I reminded her. "And I went to the party hoping to meet some people my age."

  "So you didn't know I'd be there?"

  I wasn't sure how to answer that one without lying. And while I was trying to figure it out, Samantha rolled to her knees and straddled my lap. Seriously. One minute she was sitting beside me and the next minute her knees were bracing my hips, the short skirt of her dress riding high on her thighs, stretched so tight that it made my breath catch in my chest while a deep aching throb pulsed beneath my knuckles.

  Without warning, the bus jolted to a stop and I grabbed her hips to steady her. A warm surge of venom spurted from my barbs and soaked into the knitted gloves I was wearing. I closed my eyes, fighting for control.

  Her warm breath touched my cheek as she leaned toward me. "Torrie swears you're the nicest guy on earth even though you didn't keep your promise to leave me alone."

  "I only promised to try," I corrected her gently, opening my eyes as I got my barbs to back off. "But when I saw you going into the bedroom with that guy, I figured maybe you needed some help."

  "So you figured you'd save me from myself?"

  "Something like that," I murmured.

  "You're so…gallant," she said on a warm burst of laugher. "But what about that girl back in Pine Grove who fancies you?"

  Her question startled me. Aye, what about that girl, Victor? The one you said was your girlfriend in front of the pack. But Alexa didn't feel like much of a girlfriend when Samantha was straddling my thighs and my hands were locked on her hips. In fact, Alexa seemed like the farthest thing in the world from my girlfriend. Indeed, the only good thing about Alexa being my girlfriend was the fact that it made Samantha more comfortable around me.

  "You're a real player aren't you?" she taunted me, tilting her head while her hair streamed down over shoulder and piled against my chest. "But who could blame you? You're sooo hot."

  Gog and Magog, it was satisfying to hear Samantha admit she found me attractive. And in response, my heart did a victory lap, pounding against my ribcage while my barbs crept from beneath my knuckles again. We were entering dangerous territory, at least dangerous for her. But even though I knew I shouldn't tempt myself further, it didn't stop my fingers from spreading on her hips.

  And since my hands refused to take the noble course, I decided maybe I could get my mouth working in that direction. "Let's head back to the party and pick up your car," I suggested from a dry throat.

  "Okay," she agreed, smiling down at me. "But you'll have to drive…assuming you haven't been drinking."

  "I'm good," I told her and left out the part about not having a driver's license. "I'll get you home."

  "Home? I can't go home like this!" she exclaimed, her hazel eyes hooded as she looked down at me, her mouth softening in a tempting pout.

  "What do you mean?" I teased her gently. "Are you admitting that you're…drunk?"

  "Not at all," she replied, and flicked her hair behind her shoulder. "But I think maybe that punch was spiked."

  "Ah," I murmured. "Perhaps. Perhaps just a little."

  "And if I have accidentally been drinking, my father will smell the alcohol on me."

  Leaning forward three inches, I nuzzled my face against her neck and pulled in a deep breath. She didn't smell like alcohol. She smelled like sunshine and peaches. The summery scent almost knocked me on my ass. "You're right," I lied, sucking my cheeks between my teeth and willing my barbs to behave. "You can't go home like this. I'll take you to my place and you can go home in the morning."

  "So I can stay with you?" she asked in a sultry tone.

  "Aye," I answered huskily and pulled her close enough to touch my mouth to her neck. She tilted her head and my lips skidded across her collarbone, savoring every delicate inch along the way. "What about your friend?" I murmured, my mouth getting all noble again—and only just in time—as I felt another surge of venom pulse from my barbs.

  "Colton?" she asked breathily, her hands gripping my shoulders.

  "Nay. The lass at the party. Did she get there in your car? How's she getting home?"

  "Oh, you mean Syd. I wonder where she is," she answered hazily.

  Cutting myself off, I lifted my chin to look out the bus windows. "Our stop is coming up next. Why don't you check your phone?"

  "Okay," she sighed. Her
gaze wandered over to her purse and she worked her knees to the edge of the seat then slid to her feet. The bus swayed again and I tightened my hold on her hips as I pulled myself up beside her.

  She tugged her phone from her bag and checked her messages. "Syd got a ride home," she reported as the bus slowed to a stop.

  "That's good," I answered, rubbing a hand over my throbbing knuckles and pointing at the folding doors.

  She stumbled on her way down the stairs but I caught her before she could hurt herself, and carried her to the sidewalk while the bus rumbled away into the night. Her arms were looped around my neck and I stood there for a while, watching the taillights on the bus and thinking about how perfectly we fit together. It was like we were made for each other, like two pieces of a puzzle locked together in a scenic picture of a small city on a starry night.

  "You can probably put me down now," she giggled, her lips touching my ear and doing crazy things to my heart.

  "I was afraid you'd say that," I murmured and let her legs slide down my frame until her feet touched the ground.

  She stumbled again and reached for my arm. And that was all the excuse I needed to reel her into my side. And as we negotiated the next two blocks with my hand locked on her hip, I felt like that's what I wanted to do for the rest of my life—hold Samantha Evans and keep her safe. It was my "calling".

  We found her car and headed for my place. And five minutes later I pulled into the driveway that swept out a curve on the lawn in front of our house. In the middle of the night, the place looked like one of those popular homey paintings with lighted windows glowing from behind a generous spill of leafy foliage.

  "Wow," Samantha breathed. "It looks like something right out of a fairytale. Victor, it's a mansion. You live in a mansion!"

  I smiled at her as I steered the car behind the house and parked beneath the thick branches of a huge maple. "Maybe. But don't get your hopes up. Because inside, it's a little more rustic."

  "I like rustic," she claimed, her eyes glowing with that irresistible spark that only she could pull off.