Sloan (The Protectors Series) Book #9 (12 page)

Chapter 22

Sloan carried her a short distance away so he could get her under control, get himself under control. When his team had pulled up and he’d seen the van surrounded by fucking bats—that were also attacking six men with guns—he totally lost it. Sloan never lost it, but he knew that she was in the van and his only thought was getting to her.

When Sid had jumped from the roof and run toward the van, his face a mask of worry and rage, Sloan had laid his bike down and taken off. Becky and Katrina were alone in that van. Damon, Duncan, Jared, Adam, Jill, and Steve all surrounded the men being attacked as he, Sid, and Blaze headed toward the vehicle screaming Becky’s and Katrina’s names, hoping to be heard above the noise of the bats.

Suddenly, as one, the bats slowed, then rose in the air and disappeared into the night. Once he saw the van riddled with bullet holes, he roared out her name. The first door he went to was the driver side, which he ripped from the van only to see her curled up on the floor under the dashboard. Never in his life had he been more frightened of anything than the thought of losing her; it was a moment in his long life that he would never forget, and for some unknown reason, a flash of memory of the old man standing next to the old woman’s bed slammed into him.

Stopping far enough away from the scene, but close enough if he was needed, Sloan continued to hold Becky. Her sobs of terror were just hiccups and sniffs of fear, but her body shook against him.

“You’re safe now,” he said into her hair, trying to keep any anger out of his voice. “Becky, you’re safe.” His neck was wet from her tears.

Sid came running up, his expression worried. “Please tell me she’s okay?”

“You are a lucky son of a bitch, Sinclair,” Sloan growled, rage burning deep inside him. “What in the fuck were you thinking, leaving them alone?”

“No!” Becky pulled her head out of Sloan’s neck. “We were safe. He made sure of it. It’s my fault, not his.”

Sloan made a noise in his throat at her words, but kept quiet. He would deal with Sid later.

“Please, I’m sorry.” Becky tried to make it right. “We saw the guy heading toward the car. Katrina didn’t have her phone to warn Sid and mine died before I could send the message, so I made a stupid decision to help you.”

Sloan agreed silently that it was a stupid decision, one that almost got her killed. She unwrapped her legs from around him and slid to the ground with his help. Wiping her eyes, then her nose, she looked up at Sid, then him.

“I wanted to help and I knew that car had something to do with today, so I rammed the guy until Sid could get there.” Becky cleared the tears out of her throat. “I didn’t realize there would be more. I was just trying to help so you could find out who was behind the bombing today, so no one else would get hurt. And I didn’t want him to get the upper hand on you.”

The anger left Sid’s face as he ran his hand through his hair. “What you did was brave, Becky,” Sid acknowledged, but then frowned. “But fucking stupid. You could have gotten killed, and on my watch. That is something that I can’t even imagine. No one, and I mean no one, gets killed on my watch.”

“I’m sorry.” Becky bowed her head, her lip trembling. “But it wasn’t me that was brave. Katrina was the brave one.”

Sloan gave Sid a nod. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

After Sid left, Sloan turned Becky around and lifted her face to his. “Never put yourself in danger like that again,” Sloan ordered, but made sure his voice remained calm and even.

Becky nodded as tears filled her eyes again. “I should have never put Katrina in that kind of danger.” She reached up and wiped her cheek. “And my son, what if something had happened…?” She couldn’t finish as sobs once again wracked her body.

Taking her back in his arms, Sloan held her tight. He’d seen this before—she was in shock and the what-ifs were hitting her hard. It was a normal reaction, especially from someone who was not in the “danger” business.

“I’m not a Warrior. I’m a secretary,” she mumbled into his chest. “I would suck as a Warrior and I don’t want to die and leave my son with only his asshole father,” she babbled between hiccups of tears.

Sloan actually smiled at her words. The Becky he knew was coming around, but he needed to speed it up. He looked over her head to his Warriors, who were pulling the van back to get the fucker out of the sedan. Leaning back, he looked down into her beautiful, wet face.

“Did you get my tux?” Sloan asked after wiping the smile off his face.

“What?” Becky frowned up at him.

“My tux?” Sloan used his thumb to catch another tear. “Did you get it?”

“No, I’ve been busy getting blown up, ramming cars, and getting shot at,” she replied with an angry glare.

“As long as you make sure I have it by Saturday afternoon.” Sloan leaned his head close to hers. “And while you’re at it, pick up an evening dress for yourself.”

“For what?” Becky lifted her shirt, revealing a bit of stomach, to wipe her face.

“I need a date.” Sloan took his eyes off her pale skin to look into her eyes. “And as part of your secretary duties, I’m taking you. And yes, that’s an order.” His lips twitched slightly.

Becky looked back at the mess she’d created and then to Sloan. “After all of that, you’re asking me for a date?”

Sloan also looked at the chaos and thought for a minute before nodding. “Yes, I am.” His gaze met hers and he was glad her eyes had cleared, but the shaking hadn’t stopped. He knew that may take a while. At least she had stopped crying and was no longer thinking of the consequences her actions could have brought her. “These functions are a pain in my ass. I forget names all the time so I need you there to help me keep shit straight.”

Swallowing hard, Becky nodded as her eyes welled up again. “You’re keeping me?”

If Sloan had a heart, it would have been tugged. Those words alone said so much. “Yes, I’m keeping you,” Sloan whispered to her, then winked. “For now,” he teased, then chuckled when she smiled.

He led her to the group, his eyes and senses open to any danger. With one arm wrapped protectively around her, ready to pull her to safety, he glanced down and saw her looking at the van.

“Don’t worry, I have insurance,” he once again teased, trying to keep her mind off what could have happened. But he knew it wouldn’t last. Being human and realizing that your life was truly fragile was something one didn’t get over quickly.

******

Becky had no idea how she was walking. Her whole body shook and quivered, while her eyes kept returning to the bullet-hole-riddled van. How she and Katrina didn’t get shot was a miracle.

She turned to see the six men on their stomachs with Warriors surrounding them. Sloan led her to where Katrina stood with Adam and Steve.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” he ordered them before walking away.

Becky watched him walk away, then turned toward Katrina. “Are you okay?”

Katrina nodded, then grinned. “Yes, are you?”

Nodding, Becky didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s no big deal. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Katrina reached out and hugged her. “This is what I’m training for.”

“Okay, dammit.” Steve stepped in. “For the record, I’m glad you guys are okay, but shit, Katrina, I’m really upset.”

“Why?” Katrina frowned.

“Because this is going to be talked about for a long time. Bats? I mean, come on!” Steve threw his hands around. “You fucking commanded bats to come and protect you. What the fuck? Why does everybody get the cool powers and I don’t have squat, diddly squat, nada, nothing. It’s bullshit!”

“Diddly squat?” Adam gave Steve a sideways glance.

“Yeah, fucking diddly squat,” Steve spat out. “I’m sick and tired of waiting for my power when everyone else has one. It’s bullshit.” Steve kicked a rock and farted.

Adam busted out laughing, as did Katrina and Becky. Becky was the first to stop because she felt so sorry for Steve, but even at a time like this, he made her laugh and it was something she needed so badly.

“Oh, great!” Steve dropped his head back and stared at the sky. “Thanks for having my back!” he shouted toward the heavens.

“You know, Steve.” Adam was still laughing and holding his stomach. “That could be your power. Killer farts.”

Becky covered her mouth, hiding her grin as Steve actually seemed to consider that. “You know”—Steve frowned then looked pissed—“that probably is my fucking power. I’ve had a lot of lethal gas lately. Dammit!”

Jared was just walking up as Steve stormed off. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I fucking farted!” Steve shouted as he marched off.

Becky couldn’t help it, she laughed so hard she cried. God love Steve. She needed that so bad. Just when she thought she was going to lose her mind with what had transpired in the last few hours, Steve had found a way to make her forget and laugh.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jared asked, still watching Steve pace around.

“Don’t ask,” Adam warned, between laughing. “God, that kid is going to kill me one day.”

Sloan had also walked up, his eyes following Steve. “What’s wrong with Steve?”

“He farted is about all I know.” Jared frowned, then looked at Becky, Katrina, and Adam, who were trying to stop laughing.

“Jesus.” Sloan shook his head. “What the fuck is wrong with that kid?”

Adam started to talk, but couldn’t. He just turned to walk toward Steve, waving whatever he was going to say away. “I can’t.”

Becky finally stopped laughing. She didn’t want to get Steve in trouble. They were in a serious situation; hell, she’d almost died, but one thing she had learned in her short time was the Warriors had a definite sense of humor at the strangest time. Or maybe the right time.

“We are going to take you and Katrina back to the compound.” Sloan led her to his bike. “It’s closer and we really need to question these assholes.”

“We can get a cab,” Becky volunteered with a frown. “I don’t want to be a bother. I know you have more important stuff here to do.”

Sloan slid on his bike and stared at her. “Get on the bike, Becky.”

Knowing it would be fighting a losing battle, she hopped on behind him and wrapped her arms around his firm waist. Yeah, she could get used to this. What the hell was she talking about? She was already used to it.

Deciding to not even look toward the van, she rested her head on his back and closed her eyes, trusting Sloan completely.

Chapter 23

Sloan headed toward the interrogation rooms. He had let Becky, who was asleep on her feet, go into his private room to lie down. It took everything he had not to undress her, lay her down, and bury himself deep inside her. Tonight had opened his eyes to his exact feelings for Becky Spencer and it went beyond fucking her.

Hitting the elevator button, he cursed as the doors shut and he leaned against the wall. This was it. He knew it. He felt it. She was his fucking mate and he felt sorry for her. He was demanding, a prick, and had no time for anyone other than his duties. She would end up hating him, but he seriously didn’t know if he could live without her.

Slamming the Stop button on the elevator, Sloan slid down the wall into a crouched position, his head in his hands as he tried to clear his thoughts. He’d known that if he’d found her dead inside that van he would have taken his own life. Only a mated male would have thought that way and meant it. She was doomed by his hand.

“Goddammit!” Sloan stood and punched the elevator wall, denting the steel. It was not supposed to happen to him. He wasn’t supposed to find his mate. He had made it his main priority to steer clear of any feelings toward a woman. Regardless, she’d appeared in his life and before he knew what was happening… that was a lie. He’d known it, felt it the first time he’d laid eyes on her, yet he hadn’t fought hard enough to let her go. He was a selfish bastard. He wanted her. Plain and simple.

She was his and no other motherfucker would ever have her. “Shit!” Sloan cursed at his thoughts, panic throbbing through him. And wouldn’t the other Warriors get a fucking kick out of this shit. Not that he really cared. He could take their shit, but he didn’t want to hear it. He was having a hard enough time accepting it himself.

Knowing he needed to get to work, he hit the button again and the elevator began to move. The doors opened and he stomped down the hall, busting into one of the rooms.

“Anything?” he growled at Duncan, who watched Jared and Sid interrogate one of the six men who had shot up the van.

“Oh, yeah. They’re telling everything.” Duncan nodded with an angry frown. “And it’s not good. It looked like anti-vampire humans are taking things into their own hands. Seems they feel if they get rid of the VC Warriors, then the human government will have to take over and kill all the vampires because there will be no vampire justice with us gone.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Sloan leaned closer to get a look at the asshole in the chair; he looked scared to death. Understandable, since Jared and Sid looked pretty intimidating.

“Wish I was,” Duncan replied. “Seems it’s just random acts, no set plan. Total chaos. They even have a Facebook page for them to boast about how many Warriors or trainees they kill.”

Sloan looked at the laptop Duncan scooted toward him. Disgusted, Sloan scrolled through the page before slamming it shut. “You informed the other chapters?”

“I’m streaming the interrogation to them now,” Duncan replied, hitting a few buttons. “They are seeing it live, just as we are.”

“What about the guy in the sedan?” Sloan stared into the interrogation room.

“He’s a scout. They drive around finding the locations and putting them on the page. Whoever wants it, takes it.” Duncan opened the laptop and searched before shoving the computer back toward Sloan. “They also take pictures to post.”

Sloan looked down and his eyes changed instantly to black as rage filled him. Staring at him was Becky, her eyes wide with fear as he lay on top of her, protecting her right after the blast.

“Over 5,000 people have liked their page and seen that photo.” Duncan nodded toward the computer. “This isn’t good. There is no organization and so far, we haven’t found a name of a leader. If this truly is an unorganized group, we are fucked.”

Once again, Sloan’s eyes fell on Becky’s picture and the fear in her eyes was his undoing. Slamming out of the room, he headed straight for the interrogation room, almost ripping the door off its hinges. Walking past Sid and Jared, who got out of his way, Sloan picked the human up by the throat and slammed him against the wall.

“You have five fucking seconds to give me a name, motherfucker.” Sloan’s face and fangs were inches from the terrified man’s face. “Before I rip your goddamn throat out.”

The man sputtered something, but was too terrified to speak legible English. Sloan slammed him against the wall once again and tightened his grip.

“Time’s up!” Sloan opened his mouth and tilted his head, an inhuman growl leaving his throat. The man screamed.

“Okay!” he managed to get past his closed-off throat.

“Okay, what, you piece of shit?” Sloan straightened out his arm so the man went higher on the wall.

“Evan Nico is the name I’ve heard,” the man squeaked out. “That’s all I know. I swear it.”

Sloan glared at the man for a few more minutes. “Get Adam in here, now.”

“He’s interrogating with Blaze in another room. Hold on.” Sid rushed out and then came right back with Adam.

“Evan Nico?” Sloan questioned.

“Seems that name is popping up with all of them.” Adam nodded, then looked at the ground where Sloan had dropped the man. He lay on the floor, crying.

Sloan looked toward the two-way mirror. “Run that name,” Sloan ordered, then turned to leave the room. “I want that son of a bitch and I want him now.”

“What do you want us to do with these guys?” Jared asked, grinning at the man on the floor.

“Lock them up.” Sloan didn’t even glance at the sobbing man.

“Should we give him some clean clothes?” Jared raised his eyebrows then creased his nose. “I think he shit himself.”

“Damn, Sloan.” Sid backed out of the room, waving his hand in front of his face. “You literally scared the shit out of him. I’m fucking impressed.”

Sloan didn’t answer as he disappeared down the hallway. He was pissed beyond words. To see Becky’s terrified face on a page where others could enjoy her fear was a huge mistake for those fuckers. Evan Nico, whoever the fuck he was, had signed his own death warrant.

******

Waking with a jolt, Becky shot up in bed. She looked around frantically, the events of the blast all coming back to her. She was in Sloan’s private room at the compound. With a calming sigh, she grabbed her phone off the small table and squinted at the time. Eight in the morning. Her internal clock was a little off, but then again, she’d only fallen asleep a few hours earlier. She tilted her head and strained to hear, but only silence greeted her. Sloan’s usually bustling office was silent.

Glancing around, she spotted what appeared to be the bathroom and got up. After doing her business, she glanced at the shower. She felt gross. Even though she didn’t have any clean clothes, she figured her body would at least be clean. Picking up a towel on the floor, she sniffed. It smelled like Sloan. She took another long whiff, heat filling her cheeks, forcing her to drop the towel.

Quickly shedding her clothes, she turned the shower on and stepped inside. The water felt amazing. She stood there for a while, letting it pour down her body, over her face, moaning in relief the whole time. Grabbing the soap, she quickly lathered up and then searched for the shampoo. Seeing it near the drain, she bent, poured some in her hand, then scrubbed her hair. Once clean, she relaxed and didn’t move until the water started to cool. With a sigh, she turned it off as chill bumps pimpled across her skin.

Peeking out of the shower curtain for the towel, her eyes landed on a pair of boots before her gaze lifted to muscled jeans-covered legs, a nice bulging area, on to a black T-shirt and then finally to Sloan’s gorgeous face.

“Looking for this?” He held out the towel on his finger.

“Thought I’d take a quick shower,” Becky said, stating the obvious. “Hope that’s okay.”

His eyes dropped, lingering on her body, then rose again. “You can use my shower anytime.”

Becky nodded, glancing down herself to see that the shower curtain was practically see-through. Her eyes shot back up to his. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” His grin was so masculine it made all her girl parts scream out in need.

“Well, that wasn’t very gentlemanly.” Becky raised an eyebrow at him, then reached for the towel.

“Never have I admitted to being a gentleman.” He cocked his eyebrow right back at her and pulled the towel back toward him so when she reached, she almost took a step out of the shower. “Unfortunately, there are some women out there ready to take you shopping for a dress.”

“You were serious about that?” Becky frowned.

“Yes.”

“I just thought you were trying to make me feel better.” Becky was starting to freeze and was ready for that towel, but he didn’t seem to be willing to give it up yet.

“No.”

Okay, his one-word responses were about to drive her crazy. No, that was a lie. It was his stare; he had such an intense stare. A stare so bold she wanted to know what he was thinking. She couldn’t help but wonder if his thoughts were dirty ones about her.

“Can I have my towel?” Becky knew her voice quivered and it wasn’t from being cold.

“Come and get it,” he teased with a cocky grin. She could tell by his face he didn’t think she would.

One thing about her was she wasn’t really shy. She smirked at his challenge. If a man didn’t like her body, he could go kick rocks and it would be his loss. Though in all honesty, she would probably die if Sloan looked at her in disgust, but she’d live and then go work out. She chuckled to herself at that thought.

So he had thrown out a dare and she was never one to turn down a dare. Ripping open the shower curtain, Becky stepped out of the shower. She had to give him credit, he showed no emotion other than a flare in his darkening golden eyes.

She held out her hand for the towel. With a growl, he handed it to her as his eyes roamed her body. “Thank you,” she said with a prissy tone as she passed him, only putting the towel to her front, her ass bare for his gaze.
Take that, Mr. Warrior
. She grinned, but then gasped when she was pulled up against his hard body.

“You are very lucky that there are people in the other room,” he whispered in her ear. One hand wrapped around her waist and the other cupped her breast, squeezing before his hand stroked down her stomach to the V of her thighs, his finger slowly rubbing her entrance.

She leaned her head back against him, moaning softly at his touch. “And why is that?”

“I would be so deep inside you, but I don’t believe in twenty-minute fucks.” His gravelly voice vibrated against her neck. He bit her softly as his finger penetrated her and then he pulled away and headed for the door.

Becky wanted to shout, “I do! I believe in twenty-minute fucks,” but words were beyond her. Her body was on fire, her legs barely keeping her upright, and when he turned to give her a sexy wink, she sighed. She fucking sighed. No man in her life had made her sigh.

“I will pick you up at six tomorrow night,” Sloan instructed, all business and bosslike. “You have the rest of the day off. Have a nice day.” His smile was the sexiest she’d ever seen. He then walked out and closed the door.

“Ah, but, ah….” She trailed off. Holy shit, she had lost the upper hand, and quickly.

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