Giving It Up for the Gods (3 page)

“Get on,” he snapped.

“Get stuffed.” She kicked off her boots and tossed them at his head. He ducked.

Then the door swung back open again. Neptune’s posse poured out. Lindy smirked and leaped astride the surfer guy’s chrome-plated beauty. Jase ignored her and roared off down the street.

Surfer guy, Saul, revved the engine and followed. She yelled her address in his ear, but either he ignored her or he didn’t hear. She hit his shoulder to get his attention, but he opened the throttle and threw out a wheelie. With a furious squeal, she ignored the pain in her wrist and clung on like iron filings kissing a magnet.

These jokers had saved her from Neptune’s goons, but they as good as kidnapped her themselves. Dumping them would be easy if they were humans, not that she’d anywhere special to go. If those fish heads knew where she worked, they sure as hell knew where she lived. Besides, she’d seen this pair in action. No human moved with their speed, precision, or strength. Her rescuers were nothing like any preternatural species she’d rubbed up against before, so what the hell were they?

Once they’d left the streetlights and houses behind, Saul pulled up and practically shoved her off his shiny chrome bike. “Here, Jase, you take her.”

Lindy felt rooted to the spot, but the drop-dead sexy one, Jase, lifted her bodily and dumped her on his pillion. “Saul, you asshole. She’s frozen. Couldn’t you spare the power to warm her?”

He stripped off his leather jacket and draped it around her shoulders. She ignored the stabbing pain in her ribs, but her injuries were already healing. The wrist would take longer, a day and a half maybe, since it wasn’t a clean break. Careful not to bump her broken bones, she shrugged the jacket on carefully. His body heat lingered in the lining along with his lemon-and-fresh-pine essence.

Saul just stared at her, shrugged, and said, “She’s not mine.”

“She’s sure as hell not mine,” Jase snapped back. “A bloody Siren? Really? Come on, Saul, anything but that.”

Lindy fumed in Jase’s arms. And what sort of name was Jase? Short for Jason, perhaps. Whatever he called himself, he didn’t care overly much for her. Not that she should worry about that. Mostly she liked herself, and that was all that mattered. As singers went, she’d never make the Siren’s top ten. That still made her a million times better than any human. Tougher too, unless bodies piled on top of her like an American football at the end of a play. Once she’d gotten back to her feet, those mermaid guys would have been toast…probably.

Jase kept looking back over his shoulder, so he saw them first. A hand gesture, and Saul glanced behind. Neptune’s goons had bikes too. The race was on.

Lindy’s wrist throbbed. Her vision blurred. She struggled to stay alert. Bile rose in her throat, but this bad-tempered biker might bar her from his bed if she threw up on his back.
You think? Okay, time I did some deep-breathing exercises
. She inhaled as deeply as her cracked ribs allowed and clung harder. His back was broad and warm, so she rested her face and her breasts against it.

Her world lost focus. All she saw were dark shapes—probably trees and hedges—and endless road. She glanced back, and just when she felt certain those merfolk would catch them, her rescuers turned into a forest. Every bounce of the bike over the rutted tracks was agony for her. The trees came at them thick and fast, but Jase never took his hand off the throttle. Wind rustled the leaves. Ahead, a river splashed against rocks. Then they came to the ancient packhorse bridge.

Just as Jase pulled onto it, she recognized her surroundings. Last summer, she’d picnicked near here with Joe and his lover. Even on a summer’s day, the packhorse bridge had terrified her.

“I’ll take the long detour down the valley and wade across the river!” she yelled as he pulled onto the bridge. Not that he took any notice.

A slender pathway of stone stretched out into the night. Narrow, without parapets, it was barely wide enough to take a laden pony or motorbike.
Surely he isn’t going to… Oh hell, he is
. Lindy’s heart raced as Jase revved his engine, raced up the low slope, and started across it. Sirens feared nothing, except darkness and heights. As an added bonus, this bridge stretched high above a dark valley.

“No!” she yelled.

The roar of the engine drowned out her voice. Terrified, she squeezed her eyes shut. Not that it helped. When she sneaked a look, the ground had dropped away on either side. Almost, this felt like flying.
Don’t faint. Don’t panic. Just pray
. One move, one shuffle that put them off-balance, and they’d tumble to the rocks below. They’d crash and burn just like the night the Sirens fell from the heavens.

Don’t think about that. Don’t look. Don’t move. Don’t scream. Don’t disturb his concentration
. She pretended she was back in the club, curled up with a white wine spritzer after her first performance. A blip of the throttle. A tiny wobble of the back wheel, and she wanted to throw up. Only, terrified as she was, every vibration of the engine sent tiny hits of pleasure through her cunt.

Chapter Three

Falling—a Siren’s primal fear. Darkness—a close second. Otherwise, Sirens were fearless and strong. Her Siren sisters still trembled when they spoke of how they fell from the heavens and crashed down to earth.
Thank you, Juno and the Muses. Us Sirens are so grateful for the massive scar you gouged in our psyche
. Afterward, her sisters learned to stand up and fight. And to fuck. An all-female race, they’d do whatever it took to procreate.

Now she was drowning in the darkness on either side of her. And that bridge… Talk about living nightmares. Eight stone arches straddled a deep, wooded valley, topped by a slender spar of stone. She couldn’t cross this two-and-a-half-feet-wide bridge in daylight. Now this jerk did it in the dark…balanced on a flaming motorbike.

She daren’t think about the long drop on either side. But she did. Constantly.
Is that me shaking? And would it hurt Jase the jerk to turn on the headlight?
Staying at the club would have been better than this. She buried her face against his back and clung as hard as her wrist allowed. She wanted to scream, but, scared to distract him, she stayed silent and still.

Hell, she’d rather get off and walk. Maybe. For now, she relied on a man who’d aggravated her injuries, not that she thought it was deliberate. He’d rescued her from a ritual humiliation and rape—shame about him being an objectionable prick.
Would a kind word or a bit of reassurance have hurt?
She’d even have settled for a smile. Damn right. He’d be devastating if he smiled. What was wrong with her that the only man she’d ever wanted to bed hated Sirens? Desperation? Fatal attraction? Or maybe just a hungry desire to finally have sex? After all, her clock was ticking. She had fifty-one hours to find someone to screw, and Jase looked like her best bet. Only he ignored her. At least he’d kept them upright and moving. Best of all, he didn’t let them tumble into the torrent below. That made him her hero, as long as he kept his mouth shut and fucked her…tonight.

Neptune’s warriors still followed, more slowly. She heard Saul fall back, more cautious, less sure of his surroundings, as he edged over the bridge. And he still didn’t turn on his headlight.

Either this pair has a death wish, or they’re trying to terrify me. Damn, it’s working
… She wanted to turn her head to see how far they’d come, but she daren’t move. Not with the darkness and the drop. Worse, it sounded like a whole gaggle of Neptune’s bikers had spread out in single file to negotiate the bridge. When she forced herself to glance over her shoulder, their headlights were like pale moonbeams suspended in the night sky. She almost wished the mermen had taken her, but Jase was already halfway over. That meant no going back.

Finally, thank the Source, they ran down a long, low ramp and back onto solid ground. Lindy kept her breathing shallow to ease the pain in her ribs. Besides, the last thing Jase wanted was her distracting him by heavy breathing in his ear. Then the trembling started. Not that her rescuer cared. Rather than speed off, he waited for Saul.
How long could one bike take?

As Jase made it down the ramp, Saul grinned and called loudly, “I’m agriculture and open fields, not crossing and transitions. Plus, unlike you, Yorkshire isn’t my backyard. Still, a lightning bolt might be useful right now.”

“Save your power until we’re desperate,” Jase yelled over the engine.

“Then hurry up and shut the door,” Saul bellowed back.

Nothing happened. They waited and waited. When their pursuers were strung out over the bridge like Christmas lights, Jase stiffened and shuddered. “Done.”

Lindy screamed, “What’s done?”

The bike surged forward. Cold wind rushed past her and stole the air from her lungs. When she glanced back, she saw the lead minion’s bike crash into an invisible wall or maybe an unseen door. His front wheel crumpled; then he dropped thirty feet to the river below. Behind him, the other minions toppled like dominoes.

Ten minutes later, and they were back on the road. She felt safe and protected swaddled in Jase’s warm leather jacket, but she still shivered with a mix of shock, pain, and cold. And now this Jase guy had given her his leathers, he must be frozen in just a T-shirt and jeans. Not that it wasn’t a sexy look for a stud like him.

Finally the three off them turned into a carved stone gateway. Heavy iron gates swung open at their approach.
I hope that’s a CCTV recognition system, not just an open invite to all comers
. Like magic, the gates closed behind them. The bikes left ruts in the gravel path, and small stones hit Lindy’s bare legs like pellets from a scattergun. She’d have winced, but the pain in her wrist dwarfed the pain in her legs. She shuddered when they passed through a preternatural protective barrier, but at least she was safe—and if she got lucky, she could screw Jase later. If she ever forgave him for his foul temper.

They pulled up outside a stone farmhouse that looked like it had been there for four or five centuries at least. Even the rose rambling up the walls had a stem so thick she wouldn’t have been able to close her fist around it. Frozen and hurting, she winced when the gravel bit into her bare feet.
Neptune’s balls, I should have hung on to my boots
. She shivered and took a tentative step toward the solid farmhouse.

She ignored Jase as he got off the bike and stalked toward her. One look at his face—as arctic as a judge’s when sentencing a condemned man—and she took an involuntary step back. Goose bumps covered her bare legs. She already knew how bedraggled she looked, but his icy stare confirmed her worst fears. If she wasn’t frozen and the gravel didn’t cut into her feet, she’d have stormed off with her nose in the air. Of course that meant she’d still have to find someone to fuck before Neptune got his barnacle-encrusted hands on her.

Saul marched toward the door, then tapped his foot in exasperation. “Jase, quit stalling and get her inside. Just open the damn door.”

Jase scooped Lindy into his arms, and, like a bridegroom carrying his bride, he moved toward the door. Again it opened without him touching anything. That was one hell of a photo-recognition system he had going on. Something about it sent chills shuddering through her. Earlier Saul had said she wasn’t his, and Jase clearly hadn’t wanted her. Not that she needed either of them. Well… All right, Jase made her mouth water, but she was a Siren, for goodness’ sake not some ornament for them to put on their mantel. A check of her ruined clothes and her bird’s-nest hair, and she knew she didn’t look ornamental at all.

“I thought you guys were never coming.” A gangly teenager, more boy than man, shot to his feet.

Lindy wriggled and writhed to get out of Jase’s arms. Even when she unleashed her Siren strength, her struggles were useless. Every movement sent hammer hits of pain pounding through her ribs, so she finally stayed still.

The teenager wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Honestly, Jase, if you were going to bring back a female, you could have picked a pretty one. That one’s a mess. Why send me shopping for cake at that posh café in Harrogate when all you’ve caught is a tiddler like her. Toss her back and catch another.”

Jase and Saul exchanged amused glances. Saul raised an eyebrow at the irritating teenager. “You’re thousands of year old, barely look sixteen, and you act like you’re twelve. Damn it, boy, you’ve got some serious growing up to do.”

Jase grinned, and although he put Lindy down, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
Okay, broken ribs here, a little gentleness, please. And how the hell is that kid thousands of years old? Come on, guys, get real
. Whatever rubbish Saul spouted, her rescuer wanted nothing to do with her or any other Siren. So why did it feel so good when he held her like this? The way her head fit beneath his chin was perfect.

She felt Jase move his head and heard the laughter in his voice, and, tucked in against his body, she was certain he grinned. She couldn’t see it, not when he held her so close, but she wanted to. He’d be gorgeous when he managed a genuine smile.

He whispered conspiratorially, “It’s all right. I think she’ll clean up okay. Did I say this little beauty’s a Siren? That means she’s as deadly as she is beautiful. Play nice, or she’ll sing so loud she bust your eardrums. That, or she’ll tear your arm from its socket and feed it to you fist first. Either way, you’ll be in too much pain to insult her again.”

At last, some respect.

Then the youngster blew it. “What’s so special about a Siren? I still say she’s so small you should’ve thrown her back.”

Jase clamped his arms tighter, stopping her from beating some manners into that kid. Yeah, that loudmouth was definitely old enough to know better, but she calmed as Jase’s cock dug into her back. At least his dick liked her, and since her virginity was a…liability, that was all that really mattered. Still, that cocky teenager had better learn some manners and respect—fast.

Saul leaned against the wood paneling, hands folded across his chest. “You should get down to some serious study, boy. Sirens are second cousins to the harpies. Juno tricked them into a singing contest with the Muses and rigged the result. When the Sirens lost, they forfeited their feathers and turned almost human. They’re still seething about all that cheating and lying, but that makes them one of the most violent preternatural species. They’re strong and sexy, born survivors, and even the gods grow wary when they sing.”