Staked (2 page)

Typical footwear of twentieth century bikers.
It was hard to say if it was his normal attire or a trite disguise.
Seasoned Levi’s clothed his long, lanky legs and dragged her
attention up to his athletic torso covered by a black, skintight
T-shirt. Bronzed muscular arms rested against the bar. Long,
slender fingers loosely encircled the beer bottle Phil had placed
in front of him. Ebony-black hair had been tied into a pony-tail
and hung down his back nearly to his waist. Several inches longer
than her own, Ava marveled at the perseverance it took to grow it
to such lengths. His face, chiseled and clean-shaven, was as bronze
as his compelling arms that were capable of....

Geez, he was good to look at. And most
definitely a vamp. Who else could bewitch her like this? Hell, he
hadn’t even looked at her yet and she was already under his
spell.

Finally, he turned toward her.
Self-preservation urged Ava to look away before their eyes met, but
she couldn't. His deep coffee-brown eyes latched onto her gaze and
held it with some infinite, indefinable power.

She’d been hoping against hope that her
talent for reading emotions would confirm or deny her suspicions.
Was he or wasn’t he? He could hide among the shadows of the night
and cast as many spells over her as he could conjure, but his
vampire attributes would still be there, camouflaged.

She gave reading him a go and drew a blank.
If she couldn’t read him that was verification within itself.
Wasn’t it? A deep sigh did little to settle the troubling
outcome.

“How’s it going?” he said, and then had the
gall to wink. He continued looking at her, as if waiting for her to
say something. When she didn’t, he said, “It’s a nice night for a
walk in the park.”

A sinking feeling dragged her fears down into
her gut and tangled them in knots. She couldn’t remember the last
time she’d had this much trouble projecting a calm front. Was he
her contact, or just a vampire invading her thoughts? Or was he
both? “It’s better down by the river. South side.” She spoke the
code, fearful of his answer.

“Maybe tomorrow night.”

Damn. All his responses were correct. Still,
dread washed over her. Ava tried, but couldn’t shake the feeling
that this was going to lead to trouble.

“Do you have a lock on Cole’s location?” she
asked.

“As we speak.” He tipped the beer bottle to
his mouth and drained nearly half its contents. “You have the
jewels?”

“You’ll get your payment when I get
Cole.”

Bridled laughter preceded his response. “Fair
enough.”

“Whenever you’re ready.” She still had
reservations about him, but she doubted it had anything to do with
his ability to lead her to Cole.

“You got a ride?” He raised the bottle to his
lips and chugged the remainder of his beer.

“No.” She doubted it would help to explain
that her ‘ride’ was in the twenty-ninth century, and she didn’t
need one here. Once she got Cole, she planned to lay out her Sun
Stones and take him back where he’d run from.

Ava’s contact stood, shoving the barstool
back with his foot. “You can go with me. Your boyfriend can ride
with Skeet.” He moved away from the bar and headed toward the door.
He didn’t wait or look over his shoulder to see if she was
following.

Ava quickened her pace, catching up to him.
Two could play this game. “You got a name? Or should I just call
you,
hey
?”

“Stone.”

It was all she could do to keep from
laughing. “Stone?” What the hell kind of name was that? It sounded
like a product of the twentieth century, something a pair of
stoners would name their kid.

“Yeah, Stone. You got a problem with that?”
He turned away, pretty much dismissing her as he shoved his hand
against the wooden door. It swung open with the force of his
frustration.

“No. No problem at all.” She laced her hands
behind her back and snickered as she followed him outside. “You’re
the one who’s got to live with it.”

Mickey was hot on Ava’s tail. “Are you sure
about this?” he said, just above a whisper. Which was pointless. He
could take both these guys at once. She’d seen him in action. He
was a black belt in Karate. Mickey could definitely kick some ass.
A trait that came in handy for time-traveling bounty hunters.

Ava remained silent, and gave Mickey a quick
nod to follow her lead. One thing she was sure of—this guy was
going to take them to Cole.

Stone slipped a set of keys from his front
pocket and began unfastening a small chain securing two helmets to
an old Indian—old, even by the current time period’s standards.

She’d pegged him right. He was the biker
type. She gave herself an imaginary pat on the back for her skilled
insight.

“Here.” He shoved a helmet toward her. “Put
this on.”

Ava took the gear and slipped it over her
head, fastening the strap. “Thanks.” Snootiness overtook her tone;
she didn’t care if he found her offensive.

But he didn’t. He paid her no mind, grabbed a
handlebar and straddled the massive machine. Okay, Ava had to admit
the motorcycle was kind of cool with its black frame, chrome forks,
valanced fenders and that rich, blood-red color gleaming against
the streetlights’ glow. It was breathtaking, and so was he.

A grin spread across his face as he turned to
her and rested his hands on his thighs. “You coming or what?”

She moved toward him at a snail’s pace,
knowing what was coming once she mounted his bike. In her
peripheral vision, Mickey didn’t look happy behind Skeet.

Ava laid her hand on Stone's shoulder and
climbed behind him, leaving as much space between them as possible
without sitting on the rear fender.

“You’d better come closer if you don’t want
to fall off.” His tone held a mixture of amusement and arrogance.
She didn’t like it. “I’m sure your boyfriend will understand.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” As much as she
didn’t want to, she scooted closer to Stone. “He’s my associate,”
she added of Mickey.

Stone turned the key on the bike and it
roared to life. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” His
laughter droned through Ava, keeping time with the bike’s
growl.

She leaned toward his ear. “Be a smart ass if
you want, but Mickey is my brother.” It wasn’t a total lie. That’s
how she saw Mickey.

He turned to look at her. “Brother, huh?” His
expression hardened.

“Yes.” She nodded. As long as she felt it, it
was so.

He dragged up the kickstand. “Well, all
right.” The engine revved and the bike charged off, yanking her
backward. Ava locked her arms around his waist to keep from falling
off.

Humiliation charred her cheeks, but soon her
shame gave way to annoyance. She cleared her throat, wanting to
cast out the disagreement, anxiety, and doubt.

Loosening her rigid hold on him, she trailed
her fingertips to his sides and laid her hands freely against his
fine, firm body. Her face flushed hot again, but not from shame,
resentment, or irritation.

Skeet and Mickey cruised up beside them and
Stone let off the gas, slowing.

“Dex, 4th or Auburn?” Stone’s companion said
over the roar of the motorcycles.

Dex? What the hell?

“Let’s go 4th,” Stone replied.

Ava leaned in, pressing her breasts against
his back. He laid a hand on her thigh and tugged at her leg, as if
coaxing her closer. She ignored the gesture.

“I thought you said your name was Stone?” She
asked over the bike’s thunder.

“It is. My name is Dexter Stone. But you can
call me Stone.” He slowed, approaching a red traffic light.
Dropping his feet to the ground, he glanced over his shoulder. “And
what should I call you?”

“Ava,” she said, resting her hands, palms
down, on her thighs. “My name is Ava Valentine.”

“Well, Ava Valentine, we’re going to make a
little stop before I take you to Cole.”

What? Agitation pumped faster through her
veins and pounded her heart against her chest. This guy was
supposed to be trustworthy. She was going to kill Lorenzo Leighton,
the dipshit that hooked her up with Dexter Stone—if she made it out
of this alive.

“Where exactly are we going?” she asked,
trying to conceal her anxiety.

“I just want to confirm that your payment is
genuine.” He must have sensed her body tighten, because he laid a
hand on her thigh again and caressed it as if they’d already been
intimate. “Don’t worry, sweetheart...as long as the jewels are
real, you’re safe with me.”

His touch heated her blood, flushing it hot
against her skin. She wanted to be safe with him, just as much as
she wanted to feel indifferent. Stalled somewhere in the middle,
she couldn’t quite make either mark.

The light turned green. “Hold on.”

Appreciating the warning, she slid her hands
around his midriff and his rippling muscles ensnared her. They
soared in front of Skeet and Mickey with the wind chilling her
cheeks. The farther they traveled down 4th Street, the more
deserted and dangerous the neighborhood became. She didn’t like it,
but she had no choice. Not if she wanted her bounty.

Amongst the stone shoulders of the city, a
few lights streamed by in the darkness. The stench of decaying
refuse mingled with the more pungent aromas of the river a few
blocks away. It smelled like fish. The near-deserted streets
conveyed a lost, lonely feeling—one that loomed with imminent
danger.

They slowed to a stop in front of a pawn
shop. Ava scrutinized the immediate area, sensing nothing
threatening. She glanced at Stone, tried to read him again and got
nothing. But Skeet had this brassy glow around him. He didn’t care
for whoever they’d come to see.

Uneasiness crowded her confidence. Her
niggling attraction for Stone, and the fact that he may or may not
be a vampire was messing with her head.

A sense of urgency commandeered her judgment
and she followed Stone around the corner to a side door. Raw desire
cajoled her to wrap her arm around his, to run her fingers down the
length of his bare arm, but she refrained and counted off three
steps instead.

A twisted vamp spell was behind this
affliction. It had to be. Confusing it with anything else was
risky, not to mention stupid. Ava needed to push it aside, and
she’d start by putting a little distance between herself and Dexter
Stone. She had to overpower this impediment, and fast.

Stone paused at the door and looked over his
shoulder. He turned his palm up and waved his fingers at her,
flashing one of those
hurry-up-you’re-wasting-my-time
looks.

“What?” Ava threw her frustration out with
that one word.

“Come on.” He waggled his fingers. “Cough ‘em
up.”

Mickey stopped beside Ava and leaned against
the building.
I don’t like this
. His voice invaded her head,
even though he hadn’t said a word out loud.

Me either, Mickey
.
Me either
.
She glimpsed into Mickey’s eyes.
Maybe you’d better wait out
here
.

Just yell if you need me
.

That’s one of the things Ava liked about
Mickey—his absolute trust in her direction.

Stone nudged her shoulder. “Time’s
wasting.”

Ava latched onto Stone’s arm and used him as
a prop. Electrified desire pulsed through her. She tried to pull
away, but it was like she was magnetized to him. He didn’t move
while she stuffed her finger and thumb inside her boot and fished
out the small leather pouch. “Here,” she said, handing him the
cache. “I expect you to keep your end of the bargain,” she said,
thankful she still had her wits about her, even if she couldn’t
control her desires.

“Or what?” He winked and raked his hand
against hers, taking the jewels.

Ava masked the awkwardness by feigning
boredom. “Let’s just get on with it. I’m in a hurry.”

“Uh huh.” Stone’s tone matched the doubt
crinkling his brow. He turned away and opened the door to a dimly
lit room.

A cloak of caution swathed around Ava, but
she stepped through the door anyway. Lucien used to say that was a
fault of hers, ignoring her intuition.

Damn it. There he was again, invading her
thoughts. She forced her brain in another direction, scrutinizing
the inside of the building.

A musty smell permeated from all the junk on
the shelves lining the walls. Glass-top cabinets formed a rectangle
around the center, showcasing rows of sparkling jewelry under
miniature spotlights.

She followed Stone to the opposite end of the
store and gave reading him another shot. The process was a lot like
trying to interpret a blurry x-ray, the information was there, yet
lost in the distortion.

Wasting her energy on someone she couldn’t
grasp was not conducive. In fact, it was dangerous. She only had so
much to spare. Instead, she settled on someone easier. Skeet’s
emotions still glowed bright and brassy, giving her no indication
she should be worried. The man was nothing more than annoyed.

That didn’t stop the blaring alarms and
warning signals overloading Ava’s brain. Something was wrong, but
she wasn’t leaving without her bounty.

She tapped out a divertive tune on the
counter with her pink-tipped fingernails.

Stone stopped her with a gentle hand.
“This’ll just take a minute.” He looked at her while passing the
jewels to the guy emerging through a door behind the counter.

Ava slipped her hand out from under Stone’s.
“Good, because that’s about all the time I’ve got to spare.”

Stone ignored her, watching the guy with the
jewels instead. The stranger looked over a couple of pieces and
returned them to the pouch. He pushed the small bag across the
counter toward Stone and then cleared his throat. “Where’d you get
these?”

“Are they real?” The tension in Stone’s voice
reached out and knotted Ava with agitation, even though she knew
she had nothing to fear—as far as the jewels were concerned.