R.A.V.E.N.

CHAPTER ONE

Raven trudged along, careful to stay in the deep shadows cast by the large buildings. Like a child following the Pied Piper, she was drawn down the alley by a pulsing bass beat of music. The warehouse district appeared nearly deserted at this time of night, but the music indicated a bar was close.

The cult members had spread out to search for her. The high-pitched whine of motorcycle engines echoed through the maze of streets and alleys, making it difficult for her to pinpoint their locations.

She needed to find the bar and get out of sight. Now that she was on foot, she stood little chance of losing them again if one spotted her and alerted the others.

She hurt physically from wrapping her motorcycle around a light pole while she suffered mentally from her gruesome discoveries at the lair of the vampire wannabe cult. She was in desperate need of respite to nurse her wounds and get her mind back in the game. Unlike her partner, Taven, she’d never mastered the art of looking at a lifeless body in a detached, analytical way. She always felt waves of sadness, grief and anger along with a powerful urge to stop the person or persons responsible. But tonight, as she’d looked at the mutilated corpse of a child, a small clear voice in her head had screamed, ‘No more. I can’t do this anymore!’ and then something within her had shattered.

Her heart perhaps?

More likely the last shards of her sanity.

She grimaced at her own melodramatic thoughts. Why was she even letting herself think about it now while she was still in danger? She needed to focus on escaping so she could get the information and evidence she’d collected to the police. They could round up the murderous cult.

She promised herself she’d take time later to process the change she’d felt within her.

The glow of neon lights beckoned her around a corner. A breath of relief whooshed from her aching lungs as she spotted the bar at the end of the block.

Eureka! Not just some little hole-in-the-wall bar, but a packed, rowdy biker bar. The sight of a couple of dozen motorcycles, mostly Harleys, lined up in front lightened her dark mood.

If she could get her hands on one of those, she wouldn’t even have to worry about losing herself in the crowd. She could just blow out of this area on her own.

She quickened her pace despite the increased pain radiating through her ribcage and right hip. The lighted area of the parking lot yawned before her. Her heart gave a nervous thump, urging caution just before she stepped out of the shadows.

Scanning the rows of bikes, she looked for a little crotch-rocket, something super fast and easy to handle when flying around corners.

“Well, hello darlin’,” a gruff male voice near the entrance said. “You lookin’ for a ride?”

Damn, she should have guessed there would be someone out here watching the bikes. Geez, it wasn’t like this was her first time at a biker bar.

She drew her black, thigh-length coat around her, securing it with one button at the waist. Her black leather boots were not the typical biker style, but the high heel gave her a tall, sleek look that most men, in her experience, found appealing.

Donning a smile, Raven approached the man. “I need a cold Bud before I can even think about a ride,” she told him.

“Hey, just so happens, my name is Bud,” he drooled, “but there ain’t nothing cold about me.”

She bit back a laugh. “Well then, I’ll know where to find you later.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He rushed over to open the door for her.

Raven reached out and trailed a finger over his bearded chin as she passed. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

With the closing of the door behind her, the man was forgotten. She paused to let her eyes adjust to the dimly lit, smoke-filled room then checked out the patrons. Apparently anti-smoking laws didn’t apply here.

Okay so maybe these guys weren't all nonviolent types, but she'd bet none of them collected body parts as souvenirs like the men chasing her. One advantage with this type of place was most of the patrons would know how to protect themselves if the goons did something stupid like shooting at her in front of witnesses.

If she couldn’t find a quick way out of the area, she’d try attaching herself to the biggest and meanest looking guy in the place. That might make the goons think twice about confronting her here.

She spotted him at a large, crowded table off to the left side of the room. He was six feet plus of muscle and decked out in the standard biker uniform of worn denim and leather. His long blond hair was trapped under a blue bandana.

Raven tossed her head, sending her long, straight, black hair swirling around her shoulders and was rewarded by a widening of the man’s blue eyes and the spread of a friendly smile.

She felt several pairs of eyes on her as she wove through the tables over to the long wooden counter.

Nothing new in that, she thought without conceit. So why did she suddenly feel uncomfortable with it?

Her distinctive Native American looks worked against her purpose as often as they worked for her.

Hopefully tonight it would smooth the way for her to join the big blond and his friends.

Kael watched the dark beauty from the anonymity of the booth in the back corner. Was she Hernandez's girlfriend? His source had described Hernandez's woman as a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty, but surely he would have stressed the beauty part more if he had been referring to this woman.

Was she looking for someone in particular, he wondered, noting how she quickly took measure of everyone in the bar? Well almost everyone he amended with a smile. He doubted she could see more than his general outline.

A twinge of something unpleasant settled like a weight in his gut when she zeroed in on the man known as Big John. Her direct eye contact let John know she was interested in him.

Her gait was stilted as she walked over to the bar. Odd, he expected a woman daring enough to wear stiletto-heeled, calf-molding hooker boots to move a little more gracefully in them.

“What can I do you for?” the bartender asked Raven.

She’d only heard that about a million times. “A longneck, if it’s ice cold. The cheapest. I don’t care what label’s on it.”

“Beautiful and easy to please,” the bartender said as he reached into a cooler and pulled out a bottle of beer. “My kind of woman.”

Raven forced a laugh. “Not that easy.”

Fishing in one of the many pockets of the coat, she extracted some money and tossed it on the counter. Picking up the beer, she turned her back to the bartender. The bottle was cold and if so many men weren’t staring at her she would have pressed it to her cheeks and forehead in hopes of reviving her energy.

Tipping up the bottle, she let the cold liquid slide down her parched throat. Moisture trickled from the corner of her mouth, and she was in the process of wiping it away with the back of her hand when the fine hairs on her arms rose. She paused.

Someone was staring at her with more than the usual lustful gaze. She could feel it as surely as a lover’s hand gliding over her. Her eyes were drawn to the man in a booth in the farthest corner of the room. She could tell by the shadowy outline of his body he was the second-largest man in the seedy little joint, but his features were indistinguishable in the gloom that swallowed the area.

A dark memory skittered through her mind and stiffened her spine. Several vampires used to watch her eat and drink with the same level of intensity. They still hungered for the taste of food, even though, their vampire bodies would immediately reject and painfully expel anything they consumed, other than the warm blood that sustained them.

“Hey, sweet thing, come 'ere,” the blond giant called out, distracting her.

Raven hesitated a moment. Not only was the blond big, but he had a group of friends to jump in and help if there was trouble. Shoot, she probably wouldn’t even need to get in another fight tonight if she hung out with him.

Still, the shadowy corner looked appealing. Maybe she wouldn’t have to keep up the pretense of flirting and acting carefree. All she really wanted to do was wash the gritty taste of revulsion from her mouth with a couple of beers then sneak off to her hotel to nurse her battered ribcage and bruised hip.

“Whatcha waitin' on?” the blond asked.

What was she waiting on? She’d already decided the only threat the blond might pose to her was some unwanted pawing. She could easily handle that while her senses already warned her the man in the corner booth was some kind of soldier or predator on alert, ready to pounce at any moment. Years of being stalked by vampires and murderers had honed her natural survival instincts to phenomenal sensitivity. Being alert and ready to react to danger didn’t automatically make him a threat to her but why get close to a fuse when fire might break out at any moment? She was already in pain and suffering from mental exhaustion.

Raven pushed off from the bar and took slow, careful steps over to the blond’s table. Now that her adrenaline rush was over, her aches and pains were more noticeable and her limbs felt stiff and clumsy.

Kael released a disappointed sigh as the woman headed for Big John’s table. For a moment there, he’d been sure she was about to blow off John and head on back to make his acquaintance.

Surely, Hernandez's girlfriend wouldn’t sit with someone else when he was expected at any moment, would she?

Lucky break, really, Kael. That one has trouble written all over her, he told himself. Besides, you need to stay focused.

His little pep talk didn’t stop him from enjoying the view of her walking across to the other guy’s table. Each step she took parted the edges of her coat and gave a little peek of her thighs above her knee-length boots. Whatever she wore under that coat was very short.

There were some definite advantages to being able to see extraordinarily well despite distance and darkness and Kael took full advantage of it. Images of having those long, shapely legs wrapped around him had him shifting on the seat to ease the sudden constriction of his jeans.

You don’t need her kind of trouble. Was it a bad sign that he wanted to argue with the voice in his head?

A few minutes later, Raven firmly caught a hold of Big John’s hand as it started to stray from her knee for the third time.

“Let’s dance,” she suggested as she stood up. Maybe if she got him away from his rowdy friends, she could talk him into leaving early with her instead of making her wait around until closing time.

“All right!” Big John shot to his feet and practically dragged her to the small dance floor at the back of the bar.

His enthusiasm surprised her until his arms snaked around her and jerked her to him.

She slid her hands up, pressing firmly against his chest to keep some space between them, but pain burned through her ribcage. Letting out a gasp, she tried to step back to keep from being plastered against him. “Hey, you gotta let me have room to breathe, big guy.”

“Take off your coat. My friends will hold it for ya,” Big John suggested.

No doubt he thinks that will make it easier to paw me. Out loud, she said, “No, I’m kind of cold.”

John chuckled. “I’ve been trying to warm you up, but you just keep slapping my hands.”

“The coat stays on,” she said firmly. She resisted the urge to smile when his expression turned petulant. He looked like a little boy denied candy.

She swayed slightly to the music, holding her upper body as straight as possible.

Raven heard the door and peeked over John’s shoulder. Two men came in, dressed in matching black shirts with a splash of red in the center of their chests. Since the shirts didn’t say 'Harley' on the back, these guys really stood out among the other customers.

Her pulse kicked back up into high gear. Most of the cult members she’d seen wore shirts like those.

In her opinion, the only group more loathsome and expendable than vampire wannabes were, of course, real vampires.

Her shuffling feet drew John farther back into the shadowed corner. The closer she got to the corner booth, the more intensely she felt the interested gaze of the man sitting there. She envied his position with his back against the wall and a perfect view of the whole bar including the door.

Big John got the wrong idea and his hand slid down to cup her bottom through the heavy coat.

Man, she was tired of this charade. The images of her gruesome discoveries at the cult’s lair kept crowding her mind despite her determined effort to keep them out. “Not here,” she told him. “Let’s go to your place. What kind of bike are you ridin’?”

“A Harley Heritage, ’course,” he said.

“How far do you live from here?” Once they were safely away from the bar, she could think of a way to ditch Big John.

The goons hadn’t spotted her yet, so if she kept John between them and her, they might not see her and move on. If that didn't work, she could still try leaving with John, again keeping him between them and her.

Before John could answer, the door opened again. A tall, heavily muscled guy with a beer belly walked in like he owned the place and loudly demanded, “Where’s Big John?”

John whirled around to face the newest arrival, and Raven slipped out of his arms and drew back even farther into the shadows. Her bruised hip bumped against the table of the booth and a gasp of pain escaped her lips.

“Sam, you sorry son-of-a-bitch.” John rushed the newcomer and slammed his shoulder into the man's gut, in a mock takedown move.

“Shit!” she whispered. Almost everyone was staring at John and his loud-mouthed friend so she could hardly go back to the table with them.

“Such language,” came a deep male voice from the booth. Raven squinted in an effort to see him better in the poor light and haze of smoke.

“Slide on in here before the twins spot you.” His hand gestured at the seat across from him.

No way was she putting her back to the room. Instead, she slid onto the edge of his seat. A jolt of awareness shot through her as her body connected with the solid length of him. It wasn’t just the pain burning in her ribs either. She tried to ignore it and pushed against him.

He obliged by scooting farther into the corner to make room for her in the deeper part of the shadow. “Friendly, little thing, aren’t ya?”

Little? At five foot, ten inches plus the added height from her boots, she was taller than most of the men in this place.

He tilted his head toward hers and drew in a long, deep breath.

Did he just sniff me? Raven frowned at him. Had her deodorant worn off? It was supposed to work for twenty-four hours, but perhaps the guarantee was voided when you were poking around supposedly abandoned buildings and running from a murderous cult. She leaned even closer to him and drew in his heady male scent. Shoot he smelled good, no overpowering cologne, just a potent musky scent that was all male.

Up close now, she saw he fit the old cliché, tall, dark and dangerous, right down to his smoldering brown eyes. Time for decisive action, she decided, moving her mouth close to his ear. “If you’ve got a fast bike, some place private away from here, and can get me out of this bar without the ‘twins’ stopping me,” she let out a breath before continuing, “I can be real friendly.” She couldn’t make herself hold his intense gaze and looked away.

“Sorry, darlin’, it’s too long since payday. I doubt I can afford you.”

Raven’s jaw dropped before she realized it and snapped her mouth closed. She looked up and met his gaze.

Well hell! I must look as bad as I feel. Her confidence took another blow. Raven wasn’t sure which was more disappointing, that this good-looking, charismatic man thought she was a hooker, or that he’d turned her down.

Before she could decide, an argument broke out at the front of the bar between the twins and a couple of other patrons. “What you boys riding,” someone yelled, “scooters?” The bar erupted with laughter and derisive comments.

The distraction would have been great if she had somebody with wheels ready to leave with her. Ducking her face toward her armpit, she sniffed. She couldn’t smell her body wash any more, but she didn’t smell body odor either.

She let out a sigh and scooted away from the man. “Darlin’, if I charged what I’m worth, nobody could afford me.” She slid out of the booth and stood up, before favoring him with a slight smile. “Where’s the fun in that?” She tossed her head to send her long hair back over her shoulder as she turned her back to him.

One second the man sat in the booth, but in the next heartbeat she found him standing directly behind her. Her heart slammed into her throat and her pulse pounded in her ears.

He moved like lightning.

Or a vampire!