Night Fire (Nightriders MC Book 3) Read online

  We aren’t magic. We’re just…preternatural. And we tend to be adrenaline junkies. Goes with the territory. My wolf abruptly stopped pacing and came to attention. We both focused on the rear exit door across the street. Leigh came out, talking to a couple of guys and a girl who looked about twenty. Co-workers but the wolf didn’t like males anywhere near her. He wanted to go to her. I needed to wait, tucked back here in the mid-day shadows of the alley.

  Playing my hand too early was a bad idea. I reminded the wolf of that. He wasn’t happy but he settled down so I could concentrate. The males got into separate shit-red vehicles while Leigh and the kid kept walking. Evidently, the department hadn’t replaced her duty vehicle. But who was the girl?

  They cut around the chain-link fence and headed toward the busy street fronting the building. I made a snap decision and stripped. I called up my wolf and gritted my teeth against the twisting-tearing that signified the change. It hurt like a sumbitch. Even so, I had an easier time with the change than a lot of Wolves. Few could do it as quickly and seamlessly as I could, despite the pain.

  Trying to look like a shaggy German Shepherd, I trotted across the street and tracked Leigh. I turned the corner and found the two women a block ahead of me, walking steadily toward a bus stop. I ducked behind a delivery truck when Leigh glanced back over her shoulder. I waited until the bus came and the women boarded. I’d be able to track it.

  Five minutes later, I was idling half a block behind the bus. A couple of young guys admired the bike. An old dude snarled. I snarled back. He slunk down in the seat of his car.

  Start and stop. People on. People off. Leigh and the girl were sitting four seats back from the driver. The bus wove through Dallas, steadily heading north and east. The girl got off close to SMU. College student, I decided. Probably an intern. She walked about a block and ducked into the coffee shop on the corner.

  The riders thinned out and the bus traveled steadily now. Where the hell did Leigh live? We crossed under I-635, still going north. The bus started stopping again, people getting off. Three stops in, Leigh emerged. She slung her backpack and trudged up the street as the bus groaned away in a puff of noxious diesel smoke.

  I circled around then hung back. As long as she was on foot, I’d be able to track her. Even with all the car exhaust, shops and people, I could pick out her scent—earthy geranium and sharp clove. My belly tightened at the scent and my damn dick went stiff as a rod. I considered ditching the bike, shifting, and following her on paws then she swung through the gates of a townhouse development. I parked behind a nearby strip shopping center and prowled the fence until I found her scent again.

  Going over the wall was easy. I paced her, staying out of sight using the landscaping, parked cars, and a building. She lived at the very back of the place. I watched her key into one of the one-story units on the end of the building. Good. Time to wait.

  Leigh

  I SHUT THE DOOR and locked it—including the deadbolt. I didn’t often do that until I went to bed but the hair on my neck had been standing on end since I walked out of the arson office. It was like someone had been watching. I tried to check people out, without being obvious, but never caught anyone who seemed all that interested. Weird. I normally didn’t get all hinky like that. Of course, I’d been without sleep for over 24 hours and there was that whole “wreck my car then get rescued by the sexy biker” episode.

  My palms itched with just the thought of him. Which walked right out of weird and slammed head-first into crazy. There was something so familiar about him and I’d swear on a stack of Bibles that I’d never seen him before, much less met him. He was sexy trouble and I didn’t have time for any sort of distraction. If I was right, this morning’s fire was just the latest in a string.

  I stripped out of my clothes and stumbled into the bathroom. I wanted a hot shower and at least eight hours of sleep. And food. I hadn’t had any more sustenance than I’d had sleep. Granted, coffee was it’s own food group but it didn’t exactly fill the tummy. I changed up my plans because I could be flexible. Shower, food, bed. Awesome.

  As steaming water poured over my head, I thought about that morning’s scene. The warehouse was located in a run-down area of southeast Dallas. I’d tracked down a couple of witnesses who complained about motorcycles and loud trucks coming and going in the past few days. And wasn’t that interesting…since a guy on a bike just happened to show up and stuck to me like a cockle burr.

  There’d been two other suspicious fires—one at a known drug house. The occupants had been driven out, then the place was torched. The second fire was in one of those self-storage places. Whatever was in the unit where the fire started had gone up like a roman candle. The place was a total loss, like the warehouse. I made mental note to call a cop buddy who was on DPD’s gang unit.

  The water was trickling lukewarm. Time to get out. Food. Bed. Yippee. I was more than ready. Hopefully, by letting my hamster wheel of a brain twirl in the shower, it would shut down and let me actually sleep. Drying off, I wrapped the towel around my wet hair and shrugged into my ratty old robe. It was fleece. And soft. I opened the bathroom door—and screamed!

  Chapter 4

  Smoke

  MY EARS RANG from her scream and I leaned back just in time to miss the fist she aimed at my face. The bitch was fast—she followed up with a knee to my balls and I twisted just in time to block her with my hip.

  “Yo, chill, Leigh.” I held up my hands and backed away.

  “What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in? Get out!”

  I leaned up against the wall and watched. If she charged me again, I could wrap her up, keep her from hurting either of us. I didn’t like the shadows under her eyes or how gaunt she looked. She needed sleep and food. As her tirade ran down, I turned and headed for the kitchen.

  “C’mon. I’ll feed you.”

  She sputtered into silence and stood there in the hallway, stiff and angry. I hoped she had something in the fridge I could throw together. I had the feeling that if I left to get food, she’d rabbit as soon as my back was turned. Rummaging in the fridge and freezer, I kept my focus on her. She darted to the front door, checked the locks. She huffed out a breath. There wasn’t a lock in the world that could keep me away from her.

  Leigh sidled into the kitchen and propped her prime ass on a tall kitchen stool. “What are you doing?”

  “Feeding you.” I’d found eggs, deli ham, mushrooms, shredded cheddar and a jar of jalapenos. I could work with this. I prepped. She stared holes in my back. When her frying pan was just hot enough, I poured in enough beaten eggs to coat the bottom.

  “You’re cooking.”

  “Yeah.”

  She scrubbed the heels of her hands against her face. “I’m dreaming. Or I fell in the shower and hit my head. Really hard.”

  She was too cute, if totally exhausted. “None of the above. Just because I ride a bike and wear a cut doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.”

  “See, that’s what I don’t get. Why are you here?”

  “I just told you. I’m here to take care of you.”

  “Yeah, like that’s not creepy. And how the hell did you get in? I know I dead-bolted the door.”

  “It’s keyed.”

  “What?” She blinked at me, bleary-eyed.

  “Your dead bolt. It’s keyed. Any lock that’s keyed can be picked.”

  “You picked my locks?” Her voice was full of righteous outrage.

  I didn’t reply. I was busy turning the omelet and adding the ham, cheese, mushrooms, and jalapenos. I plated her food, slid it onto the bar between her kitchen and living area. “Sit.”

  She sputtered at me. “I’m not some dog you can just—” Her nose twitched and she inhaled. “What is that?”

  “What does it look like? Food, babe. An omelet.”

  She blinked several times in rapid succession. “You made me an omelet?”

  “Yeah…” I turned back to the stove to make my own.
/>   “You made an omelet.”

  I ignored the skepticism in her voice but she climbed fully onto the barstool and forked a bite into her mouth. She made mmm noises. Good enough for me. I finished mine, plated it and ate standing up. Not bad.

  Leigh didn’t speak as she ate, and she didn’t look up until her plate was empty. “You have a lot of explaining to do, buster.”

  “Yes, I picked your locks.”

  Her jaw dropped and when she realized her mouth was gaping, she snapped it shut. “That’s breaking and entering.”

  “So arrest me.”

  “Don’t think I won’t. Why are you here?”

  I didn’t stop the instinctual smile. “I’m here for you, babe.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Doesn’t matter what I call you, you’re still my babe.”

  She muttered under her breath. I caught a few words—men, babe, ego, sexy, jerk. Yeah, I pretty much fit all those words. Except the babe part. I wondered if she knew how sexy she was when she got all serious and wore her official face. Did she carry handcuffs? Granted, she was an arson investigator, not a cop, but in my experience—and I had a hellava lot of it—Arson liked to make arrests as much as the next LEO. We could have a lot of fun with her handcuffs. I’d have to check the place out to see. If she didn’t have any, maybe I’d bring my own.

  Leigh inhaled, let it out slow. Her eyes were closed so she didn’t catch me admiring the way her robe parted to reveal the sweet curve of her tits when she breathed like that. I was focused on her eyes when she opened them.

  “Get out of my house.”

  “You need sleep.” I had this insane desire to take care of her and she looked like shit. The shadows under her eyes made her look like some asshole had popped her in both eyes.

  “What I I need is you out of my house.”

  “I’ll leave as soon as you’re asleep.”

  She threw up her arms. “Argh!”

  Too cute. “Babe, go to bed. I’ll clean up your kitchen and let myself out.”

  “Seriously? How stupid do you think I am?”

  I studied her, focused entirely on her face. “I don’t think you’re stupid at all, Leigh. I do think that you’ve hit the end of your body’s ability to function. Go to bed. I’ll be gone when you wake up.”

  I came around the bar, grabbed the lapels of her robe and pulled. She slid off the stool and her knees wobbled. I scooped her up, carried her down the hall to her bedroom. I’d already checked it out while she was in the shower, just like I had her entire condo. She didn’t bring any paperwork home with her. I hadn’t had a chance to crack her laptop. I would, but not today.

  Tucking her into bed, I backed away. “Sleep, babe. I promise. I’ll clean your kitchen then boogie.”

  “Why…” A huge yawn interrupted her. “…should I trust you?”

  “You shouldn’t,” I teased as I started to shut her door. “But you will.” I didn’t close the door all the way. And I made sure to make noise walking down the hallway to the living area. For now, I’d play my game her way.

  Leigh

  “TRUST ME, HE SAYS.” Yeah, right. I trusted him as far as I could throw him. Considering he was about 6’3” and 220 pounds, I couldn’t even pick him up. Drag him, sure. Pick up and throw? Not a snowball’s chance. My kitchen was spotless and Smoke was nowhere to be found. I trudged to the front door to make sure it was locked.

  Leaning against the door, I pulled the towel off my head and scrubbed at my hair. It was damp and would frizz but I was exhausted. That was my story and I’d stick to it. Why else would I have let an armed and dangerous man into my house without calling 9-1-1? Forget that he was sexy and steamrolled right over me. Ugh. I thumped my head against the door—and heard a deep, rumbling chuckle. What the—?

  I whirled, jerked open the door and glared. But Smoke was twenty feet away, straddling his Harley, looking all smug. That was it. I’d officially been awake long enough to have aural hallucinations.

  “Get some sleep, Leigh.”

  “Go away, Smoke.”

  “You sure that’s what you want me to do, darlin’?”

  “Positive.” I was. Totally. The idea of curling up next to his hard body didn’t appeal at all. Not one tiny bit. Nuh-uh. Nope. He laughed and I realized I just let out a gusty and deeply feminine sigh of…something. Not desire. I didn’t even like this guy. Even if he could make a mean omelet. And had shaggy dark hair I wanted to comb my fingers through.

  I blinked, realizing I’d been staring blankly. Yup, that smirk was still plastered on his face. I bet he’d ride off and go nail some helpless bimbo.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, babe, but you’re the only female I intend to nail any time in the near future. But I want you well-rested and fully awake when I do. Now go inside, lock the door, and sleep. I have to get to work.”

  Work? The guy worked? My brain was so fuzzy I wasn’t quite comprehending. Did bikers actually have jobs? Like they got up, punched a time clock, and worked forty-hour weeks? I mean, this guy was an outlaw biker. I might not be up on all the gang stuff but even I recognized that 1% patch he wore.

  “Babe.”

  I blinked again. And discovered my vision was graying a bit at the edges. The next thing I knew, I’d been scooped up into Smoke’s arms and he was carrying me inside. Some inner feminine creature that had nothing to do with me plastered my nose against his neck and we—what was surely a demon succubus and I—inhaled deeply. He smelled of leather and wind and just a hint of cherry, like expensive pipe tobacco…

  I OPENED MY EYES to darkness, my heart hammering, and my chest tight from holding my breath. I listened hard. Nothing. I didn’t remember getting into bed. I remembered…being in Smoke’s arms and breathing him in. Crud. I was alone in bed and a mental “service check” let me know that no hanky or panky had occurred while I’d been passed out.

  Snagging my cell phone from the table beside my bed, I checked the time. 12:02. My curtains were shut tight. My eyes were still a little blurry so I looked at my phone again. AM. Wow. I’d been asleep for almost twelve hours. And now my sleep schedule was all messed up. I needed to go back to sleep because I had regular duty in the morning, reporting at 7 AM. Yippee.

  A yawn and a big stretch didn’t help. Then my stomach grumbled. I’d missed dinner. And lunch. Though that omelet Smoke fixed me sort of counted as brunch. But I was hungry. Not quite hangry yet but I would be soon. I shuffled out of bed and froze. I’d been wearing a robe. Now I wore a tank and a loose-fitting pair of gym shorts.

  When had I changed? Had I changed? Smoke. That…jerk. Now I was hangry and I marched into the kitchen. I was up and there’d be no going back to sleep. How dare he!?! The work light over my stove was on and there was a bag with a note propped up against it.

  **Robes aren’t for sleeping. I took the liberty. Liked what I saw. I’ll be seeing more of it. Eat. Later, babe. ~S**

  I wadded up the note and flung it toward the trashcan. I missed by a mile. I glared at the sack. It carried the logo of my favorite sub shop. Inside, I found a giant sub with meat. And another note. **Veggies and dressing in fridge. Eat it all. You’ll need to keep up your strength. ~S**

  Oh! The freaking arrogance of this man! He broke into my house not once but twice. And he was feeding me. What was that all about? My stomach snarled. Loudly. Fine. I’d eat. I dug in my fridge for the take-out containers. Shredded lettuce. Onions. Jalapeños. And oil and vinegar. How did he know what I ate?

  My stomach growled, its message clear. “Yo! Food. Now, woman!”

  Fine. I’d eat the food he left me. Then I’d figure out a lock he couldn’t pick.

  Chapter 5

  Leigh

  MY ALARM WENT OFF at 5:30 AM. My eyes didn’t want to open and my brain was groggy. Unable to decide if I’d had too much sleep or not enough, I stumbled into the bathroom to start the morning necessities—pee, brushing teeth, then coffee. I managed the first two then dragged down the hallway to my kitch
en. Normally, I set up the coffeemaker the night before. I’d forgotten but as I turned the corner, my nose was filled with the thick, rich scent of fresh dark roast coffee.

  I freaked out. Just a little. There were no notes. No box of donuts. My front door was secure. Maybe I’d forgotten and programmed the darn thing after all. I managed to pour a cup without spilling and added a spoonful of sugar. With mug in hand, I wandered back to my bedroom—and realized there was something wrong with the left side of the bed. I sleep on the right—closest to the bathroom door. The left-side pillow was bunched up but with a distinct impression in the middle. The covers on that side of the bed were all wonky too. What the hell? I scrubbed at my face, forgetting I had a mug of hot coffee in my hand. Ow!

  This was not going to be a good day.

  Walking through the door exactly one minute before my shift started, I headed directly to the break room for coffee. I’d managed to clean up my mess, throw coffee-stained clothes and towels in the washer, grab a shower and make it on time. But I was functioning on half a cup of coffee.

  I spent the day pretty much chained to my desk doing file searches and researching databases for clues about the identity of my arsonist. My new FD sedan arrived and I got to drive it home instead of taking the bus. Lost in thought while stopped at a stoplight, I heard a motorcycle rev beside me and I jumped. I turned to glare, figuring it would be that obnoxious Smoke but it wasn’t. The guy was staring at me and it creeped me out. Still, I glared at him and arched a brow in that universal facial expression of “You want some of this? You ain’t got what it takes, sucker.”

  He rode off as soon as the light turned green and I realized the emblem on the back of his leather jacket was different. He wore an ugly-ass dog thing with horns. Hell Dog MC. Yeah, I definitely needed to check with my buddy in the DPD gang unit. He had to know something about outlaw bikers.