Sloan (The Protectors Series) Book #9 (4 page)

Chapter 6

Katrina stepped out of her small shower, putting her directly in front of her sink and mirror. Wiping the fog off the mirror, she stared at her reflection and yep, she looked the same except for her matching golden eyes. The less she looked in the mirror at herself, the better. What really sucked for her was she looked the same as she did when she was turned and would stay that way forever.

Picking up a clump of her wet, flaming red hair, she frowned. It hung down her back, which regularly got in her way during training, but she couldn’t bring herself to cut the frizzy mess, knowing it would never grow back. If she regretted it, it would be a regret she would have to live a lifetime with, and she already had more than enough regrets to deal with.

The only thing she had ever really liked about her appearance was gone. Her dark green eyes had always glowed brightly against the redness of her hair. Now they glowed golden, which totally clashed with her hair. With a disgusted huff, she walked out of the small bathroom into her one-room sanctuary. With a bed and dresser, it was pretty sparse.

Glancing at the door, she made sure she had locked it before walking around totally naked. Reaching for the dresser, Katrina opened one drawer and inside was her meager wardrobe. Two shirts, three pair of jeans, a week’s worth of underwear, as well as the only dress she owned.

After she had been brought to the Warrior compound, Katrina had left to grab her only belongings she had stashed behind a Dollar General. She’d been sleeping there before she was arrested for being a half-breed, which seemed like forever ago. She’d had no money, nor any real skills to get a job. Life had been tough.

With a weary sigh, she grabbed the dress and put it on. Even though it was getting colder, she needed to keep her other clothes clean because jeans took forever to air dry. She had actually borrowed a pair of sweats and a T-shirt from Steve to train in, and swam in the outfit.

Once dressed, Katrina sat on her bed and stared at the door. She didn’t feel sorry for herself, never had. Even though she’d been dealt a shitty hand in life more than once, she sought solutions. That was her motto: seek solutions for the shit hand you are dealt and solve it. Glancing down at her threadbare blue summer dress that hit the floor, she shrugged, then glanced at her tennis shoes, deciding to go barefoot. Problem solved.

Standing, she straightened her shoulders. She was hungry and it was time to face whatever was to come once she left her little sanctuary. She didn’t know why she should be nervous; she was pretty much invisible to everyone anyway, and she liked it that way. She could observe, which she did very well, and she knew that not everyone ignored her on purpose. They were very busy people, that was all.

Reaching the door, she jumped when someone knocked from the other side.

“Hey, Katrina,” Steve’s voice called out. “You in there?”

Katrina opened the door and smiled. She really liked Steve; he made her laugh. “Hi.”

“Hello,” he answered with a hesitant frown. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure.” Katrina stepped aside, letting him in. “When did you get back?” She knew he had gone to Kentucky for a job and he had been so excited. She hoped it had gone well for him, but the way he was acting, she was afraid it hadn’t.

“Ah, a while ago,” he replied as he started pacing in her small room. It only took him three steps before he turned and paced three steps the other way.

“Are you okay?” She wasn’t used to seeing Steve agitated.

“Yes and no.” His eyes shifted nervously to her and then away. He paced twice more, then stopped. “I found someone.”

“Oh, did you go to Kentucky to find someone?” Katrina wasn’t sure she was following, since she really didn’t know the reason he had been sent to Kentucky.

Steve looked at her, puzzled. “No.” Then he grabbed her by the arms and sat her on the bed. “Listen, I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to know.”

“Um, all right.” Katrina frowned, wondering what in the world was going on.

Steve cursed and shook his head before squeezing his eyes shut. “Her name is Leda.” His eyes popped open to see her reaction and she was sure what he saw was total confusion. “I think I’m in love with her. I’m sorry, Katrina.”

Katrina’s eyes popped open wide. “Oh!”

“Damn. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.” Steve sat next to her, his lower lip puckered in a pout.

Smiling, Katarina put her hand on his. “Steve, it’s okay. I’m happy for you.” She laughed at the relief that crossed his face.

“I didn’t break your heart?” Steve searched her face.

“No, you didn’t break my heart, and Leda is a very lucky girl,” Katrina reassured him. Steve was so sweet and funny, but totally not her type. She didn’t tell him that. She had no clue where he’d got the idea she would be heartbroken. Though Steve was who she had the most contact with, she didn’t have that type of feelings for him and found herself relieved he had found someone.

“Oh, thank God.” Steve fell back on the bed in a dramatic fashion.

“Well, do you have a picture of Leda?” Katrina laughed at his reaction.

“Of course I do.” He snorted then sat up straight before tilting to remove the phone out of his back pocket. He handed her his phone after he pulled up the picture. “Isn’t she a fox?”

Katrina stared at the picture of the beautiful girl and smiled. “She is gorgeous.”

“Well actually, she’s a wolf.” Steve took his phone back and stared at it. “A foxy wolf.” He laughed at his own words.

“Did you meet her while you were in Kentucky?” Katrina sighed happily. It felt good to hold a conversation with someone.

“Yeah, and almost lost my life in the process. The alpha is her guardian and damn near killed me when he found us kissing.” Steve’s eyes widened, then narrowed badass style, at least badass style for Steve. “But I showed him what was up.”

Katrina chuckled, then cleared her throat. “I bet you did.”

Steve nodded and glanced at the picture one more time before returning it to his pocket. “So, now that’s out of the way, what are you up to?”

“Thinking of going to get something to eat.” Katrina stood then held out her hand. “Care to join me?”

“Hells yeah.” Steve took her hand and opened the door. “You’re pretty awesome, Katrina.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Steve.” She let him lead her down the hall, around the corner and down another hall to the kitchen.

******

Blaze sat in the kitchen eating a bowl of the chili Sid had simmering on the stove. The guy was goofy as hell, but the fucker could cook and made one hell of a Warrior. He was pretty content at the compound, more so than anywhere else he had been. Steady work, steady good pay, and steady friendships, but not too close. The team did their thing and he did his, just the way he liked it. He did not consider himself a Warrior, though. He
wasn’t
a Warrior, but Sloan treated him as if he was and as long as he was pulling a paycheck and could leave anytime he wanted, he was fine with that. No ties, just the way he liked it and the only way shit worked for him.

Looking up, he watched Steve and Katrina come into the kitchen hand in hand. His first initial reaction was to punch the kid in the face, but he stomped that feeling down quickly. He had no rights to Katrina. None. He had changed her, that was all. His feelings were normal after changing someone. There was also that bond between the two people. It didn’t matter if it were a man or woman. He was more or less her maker.

“Oh, hey, Blaze.” Steve noticed him. “How’s the chili?”

Blaze let his eyes leave Katrina and go to Steve. “Not bad,” was his only answer.

Katrina said nothing and barely looked at him. He knew she had feelings for him; he sensed it. Another reason he had to be careful as nothing could come of her feelings. He was there to support her training and that was it, nothing more. His eyes roamed her body in the faded thin summer dress that dropped to the hem, and he knew she wore no shoes.

“Yeah, Sid can pretty much cook the shit out of anything.” Steve walked over with a huge bowl. “And his chili has a definite kick to it. I bet spicy food doesn’t bother you.”

“The hotter the better,” Blaze replied with a half grin. It was hard not to like Steve. He had no filter and said whatever came to his mind. He was actually surprised he had lived this long around the Warriors, but he knew any one of them would die for the kid.

Katrina sat quietly eating her chili, gently blowing on each spoonful before putting it in her mouth. Blaze shifted in his seat. He needed to stop watching her do that shit. As the kitchen started to fill with everyone coming in to eat, he watched Katrina sink deeper into herself and try to fade so not to be noticed.

Duncan and Pam walked in with Daniel, who went straight to Katrina. She pushed her food away and her full focus was on the little boy while letting Duncan and Pam eat. Conversation went on around him, but he watched only her. She was different than anyone he had ever known. Her heart was wide open and she silently screamed for affection. It seemed he was the only one who heard.

Standing up quickly as if that would quiet his mind, he walked over to clean his bowl and put it away. Without saying a word to anyone, he headed out of the kitchen. Caroline was heading his way when he stopped her.

“How you doing, Blaze?” Caroline smiled up at him. At least she wasn’t looking behind him at the dead people she said followed him around. That was the main reason he avoided her and her sister. He needed no reminders of his past; the reminders lived in his memory.

“Good, and you?” Blaze responded politely as he pulled out his wallet.

“Can’t complain,” she replied, then took a big whiff of air. “Ready for some of Sid’s famous chili. Been smelling it all day.”

“Just finished off a bowl and it’s as good as it smells. He’s a pain in my ass, but can’t complain about his cooking.” He grinned, pulling hundreds out of his wallet.

“He’s a pain in everyone’s ass.” She chuckled, her eyes going from his to the money he held.

“Can you do me a favor?” Blaze hated to ask anything of anyone, but this was something he couldn’t do himself.

“Sure.” Caroline nodded, her eyes curious.

“From what I can tell, Katrina has only a few changes of clothes and she has been wearing a pair of Steve’s old sweats and T-shirt for her training.” Blaze handed her the money. “Could you see she gets what she needs?”

“Of course.” Caroline frowned. “I feel so bad. We should have known that she needed things, but she never said anything.”

Blaze knew Katrina wouldn’t say anything. She had become sick before anyone even noticed she hadn’t been changed to a full blood, him included. “If you need more money, let me know.”

“You’re a true gentleman, Blaze.” Caroline smiled, touching his arm, then quickly removed her hand.

He laughed at that. If she only knew. “No, just making sure one of the trainees has what they need to focus on their training. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Should I tell her where this came from?” she called out as he walked away.

He didn’t answer because he didn’t really care. He was doing what he had just told Caroline, making sure all trainees had a fair shot. At least that was what he was telling himself.

Chapter 7

After showering, Becky headed toward her refrigerator. She was starved and her stomach was growling loudly. Seeing nothing but a half-eaten salad, a piece of three-day-old pizza, two beers, three bottles of water, and a container she was afraid to open, she closed the door. Opening the cabinet next to the fridge, she frowned when faced with the peanut butter. She was sick to death of the spread, plus she had no crackers, bread, or jelly. A spoonful of peanut butter was not doing it for her.

Glancing at the clock, she knew she had time to head out for a quick bite, but didn’t know if she had enough money. She frowned, thinking about the car sitting in front of her house. She was going to have to gas it up soon, since it was only on a quarter of a tank. That was the thing she loved about her scooter, it was cheap, and cheap was all she could afford.

Searching around, she finally found enough extra change to buy dinner. What she really wanted was a Corner Street hamburger, but the bar food catty-corner from her small rental home was expensive. Yep, a White Castle slider with a side of onion chips was going to have to do. Reaching for her keys, she stopped to stare at the two sets. Picking up her scooter keys, she headed toward the door. She had a while before her first paycheck and she was scrounging for change for a slider. If she was going to have to gas up the car, she’d just use it for work and nothing else.

Even though she struggled financially, her son had always been taken care of and she was good with what she had. She would struggle before she ever counted on a man for anything ever again. It was taking a while, but she would get back on her feet. Her divorce had been nasty, her ex-husband cruel, and she was finally free of him, other than the link to their son.

She had gotten pregnant at sixteen. Frank had, more or less, stuck around until Frankie Jr. was eight. For two years she had been the mother, father, breadwinner, problem solver, and whatever else came with being a single parent. She’d never really loved Frank, sad to say, and made a huge mistake by having unprotected sex, especially at such a young age, with a boy she didn’t really love.

Frank showed back up in their lives two years after disappearing. To this day, she didn’t know why she’d taken him back, but she had and even married him after a few more years. Looking back, she knew it was from desperation of wanting help. Having a man she didn’t really love to shoulder some of the responsibility was better than nothing, so she’d settled. At thirty-four years old, with her life pretty much passing her by, the only worthy thing she had done was raise a decent kid who she loved more than anything.

But she was ready to change that. She wanted to go back to school—for what, she hadn’t figured out—but she wanted something more out of life. Frankie was good. He was in college and needed little help, which she fought tooth and nail to help him, and he was also a man. The hard part was over. She finally had a decent-paying job. It would just take a few paychecks to get ahead, but she could see some light at the end of the long, dark tunnel she had been clawing through. Frankie had a steady job, had won a few scholarships, and had been approved for student loans.

Once on the road, she put all that in the back of her mind as she took her time enjoying the cool night. She loved September weather in the Tristate. Warm days and cool nights. Fall was her favorite time of year. She hated winter, but summer was okay. She would have loved the summer months if it didn’t get so humid.

She could see the White Castle sign and the place didn’t look too crowded, which was a relief. She wanted to eat, then get home and go to bed. Puttering into the parking lot, she parked and climbed off the scooter, pocketing her keys. Walking in, she did a quick glance around. Newport, Kentucky, used to be known for its high crime, but since they had built the aquarium and the Newport Levee was bustling with new business, Newport had a new face and she enjoyed the atmosphere. Of course there were bad areas, but every community had its issues.

Walking inside, she stared straight toward the counter, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. She was a woman alone, at night, with a scooter for escape. She wasn’t stupid; she knew she had to be aware. She’d taken a few self-defense courses and could put a hurtin’ on a pair of balls with a well-placed kick if she had to.

“Can I help you?” the server behind the counter asked, sounding as if he hated his life.

“Two sliders with cheese, a small onion chip, and small tea.” Becky pulled the money out of her pocket. She knew the total by heart and laid it on the counter. Seeing the look on the guy’s face, she frowned, embarrassed. “Sorry about the change.”

He didn’t say anything, but counted it, put it in the register, and printed out her receipt. While waiting for her food, she went to the condiment station and grabbed some napkins, a straw, and ketchup. By the time she finished and returned to the counter, her sad little meal sat cooling on a blue tray, the counter guy nowhere to be seen. Grabbing her food, Becky headed for an empty table and sat, still not making eye contact with anyone.

She finally let her eyes wander halfway through her meal. An older woman sat alone slowly eating. Every once in a while, the woman would look out the window and just stare. Becky felt her loneliness. Looking down at her own food, it started to blur. A sudden sense of her own loneliness hit her hard. Was she going to be just like that poor old woman sitting alone in a White Castle on a Monday night? Who was she kidding? She was that old woman sitting alone at a White Castle on a Monday night.

Looking back up, her eyes met those of the woman, an understanding in her old, clouded eyes. She gave Becky a sad smile. Feeling the walls closing in on her, Becky quickly cleaned up her mess and stood. Dumping her half-eaten food in the garbage, her eyes once again met the woman’s. Becky gave her a nod and a small smile, so not to be rude, and headed out the door.

Straddling her scooter, she stared out into the night. She didn’t want to go home. Angrily wiping a tear from her cheek, she started her scooter and headed for the river, hoping to outrun her loneliness and sad little life.

******

Sloan sat on his bike hidden by darkness. He had been doing a run and happened to see a bright pink scooter parked at White Castle. He had circled and seen through the window Becky sitting alone, eating.

Even as angry as he was that she was out at night, alone and still riding that damn deathmobile, he had to grin with a shake of his head. They did a lot of patrolling in the area because activity was high, especially near the river around the Levee. Never once had he seen her bright pink scooter, and he definitely would have remembered if he had. What were the fucking odds?

His eyes scanned the area. Things seemed quiet, but that could change in a heartbeat. Checking his phone, he sent a text letting Duncan know he would be late for their meeting and to go ahead without him. Straddling his bike, his arms crossed over his chest, he sat alert to his surroundings as he stared at Becky, his secretary, and he felt responsible for her safety… already. Fuck!

Starting his bike when he saw her stand, he watched as she quickly got on her scooter and started it up—still without a helmet. He growled with a frown. She wiped her cheek, then stared into the darkness before taking off. Glancing back inside to see who in the hell could have made her cry, he saw only an old woman staring out the window.

Sloan pulled out, staying far enough behind her not to be noticed, and followed. He wanted to make sure she made it home safely before continuing with his night. Though, she was going in the wrong direction. He knew the street she lived on because of the extensive background check on her, and he knew these streets well. Seeing her signal turn on, he knew exactly where she was going, and it puzzled him. Why in the hell would she be going to the river?

Slowing down, he waited until she turned before he accelerated and made the turn himself. By the time he rounded the corner onto Riverboat Row, she was already off her scooter and walking toward the riverbank where benches sat. Pulling into a space near one of the many restaurants, he searched the area for danger. Once again he sat on his bike and watched.

As time passed, he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. He had shit to do, but there he was watching a woman he barely knew, and he didn’t want to leave. Jesus, wouldn’t the guys have a field fucking day with this. A movement up the bank drew his attention. In one fluid motion, he was off his bike but didn’t take a step.

A man stood next to the trees watching Becky as well as checking out his surroundings. He hadn’t spotted Sloan yet, but Sloan blended into the darkness well.

“Move along, motherfucker,” Sloan said under his breath, his eyes narrowing on the guy. The guy obviously felt confident he was alone, except for Becky, and he made his move. So did Sloan. “Shit!”

Sloan made it to Becky before the asshole could. It took a minute for the guy, who had obviously been drinking, to realize Sloan had appeared. He stumbled to a stop.

He sized Sloan up and by the look on his face, he knew he might be in a trouble. “Oh, hey.” The guy frowned, then tried to look around Sloan, who had blocked Becky with his body. “I was just seeing if the lady needed help.”

Hearing Becky stand behind him, Sloan turned his head slightly to make sure she was still blocked and out of any danger. His eyes went back to the man. “No help needed.” Sloan’s voice was deep and stern.

Whether it was booze or just plain stupidity, the guy didn’t turn to leave. He continued to stand his ground and opened his mouth. “Well, I’d like to hear it from her because maybe she needs help from you.” His statement came out cocky and his hands fisting told Sloan he was about to deliver an ass whopping this guy would never forget.

Sloan’s smile was vicious. He looked at the ground for a second, then back up, tilting his head. “Do you really want to do this?” His tone offered a clear warning. “Because I can tell you right now, you will lose.”

The man reached behind him and pulled out a knife. “Oh, you think so?” The man waved the knife around, tossing it from hand to hand. “I think not, asshole.”

“Becky, stay behind me,” Sloan ordered, his eyes never leaving the dumbass threatening him.

“Yeah, Becky,” the man snarled. “Don’t go far because after I’m done with hero here, me and you have some business of our own.” He crudely humped his pelvis.

Knowing the man had to take a step toward him to use the knife, Sloan waited patiently. He emptied his mind as he watched the prick showboat. Unless that knife was made of silver, it wouldn’t do shit to him. It would hurt like a bitch, but that was it. The bad thing for this asshole, or any asshole who came at Sloan, was that he used pain as his motivation to win.

“Be careful.” He heard Becky’s whispered words behind him, but didn’t respond.

“Well, are you going to use that thing or play with it all night?” Sloan finally grew tired of waiting for the idiot to make his move.

Sloan’s question slowed the man’s showboating down at little as he hesitated. “Hey, I’m in charge here,” the man slurred, his eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, well, fuck that.” Sloan had the man by the throat and the knife out of his hand before the asshole could blink. “You plan on using that knife on the lady?”

The man’s eyes bugged out of his head from lack of air. He tried to sputter some words, but Sloan squeezed his throat too tightly.

Sloan pulled out his phone and made a call. “Need you down at Riverboat Row by the Beer Sellar.” He put his phone back in his pocket before looking back at the guy. “Not much of a badass now, are you?”

The man finally passed out and went limp. Tossing him to the ground, Sloan then turned to look at Becky. Wide-eyed, she stared at the unconscious man.

“Did you kill him?” she whispered.

“Not yet,” Sloan replied, his eyes narrowed in anger. “And if Duncan doesn’t get here before the bastard wakes up, I make no promises.”