Cowboy Bikers MC Werewolves - Esther E. Schmidt Page 0,6
the information I received in an email about the job I’m working on, I let him know, “Allen Miles is an alias for Melvin Parkers.”
His eyes narrow. “And you know this, how?”
I roll my eyes at the fact that he turns defensive the second I spill some information. “Bounty hunter by day, fly on a broomstick by night.”
“Cute,” he rumbles and turns his head in Night’s direction as he whistles a short, sharp tone.
He instantly trots our way. What a proud stallion. He’s all shiny, tail in the air, nostrils flared, and self-confident. Figor holds his hand in front of him and Night presses his nose against it. Clearly these two have bonded, even if he mentioned he’s working on earning his trust completely.
“Some might think it’s weird for werewolves to train horses. You know, the wolf part and scaring the horses,” I blurt.
He gives me an all telling smirk. “Fear is healthy. It’s something we work with and get the animal exposed to many things like being herded by wolves, our bikes, or a combination of both. It’s the very reason we love training them and as a result we sell fearless horses who can handle any task the owner wishes to use the horse for.”
“Herd them with bikes?” I muse while his horse shoves his nose right into my face, making me giggle and feather my fingers over his head.
“He likes you,” Figor says, the look in his eyes unreadable.
“It’s the guardian part, or so I’ve been told when I started riding horses. It’s best explained to see it as a low hum vibrating off me, giving them instant calmness.”
“When did you start riding?”
I concentrate on petting his horse while answering his question. “Ever since I could walk. Ugh. I wish. No, I’m exaggerating, but I have been riding for years. All my siblings had the same interest: to work within the supernatural world. And since most had the hellhound right at the surface, they could. Ridding the world of tainted souls and protecting humankind. I found myself lacking and yet still wanted to contribute in some ways. There was this horse thief, who killed the owners and no one was able to track and capture him. I used my laptop and common sense.”
Figor grins. “And you were able to capture him. Bounty hunter is indeed a perfect job for you. This way you’re still in the same line of work, so to say. Minus the supernatural angle.”
“Well, sort of.” My cheeks heat, not used to the way a man looks at me the way Figor is glancing at me.
Pride mixed with appreciation along with a truckload of desire.
I tear my eyes away from him and concentrate on Night as I continue my story, “My father didn’t trust me for a long time with handling cases myself. I’ve worked hard and trained hard. In return he allowed me to follow my heart and passion. Eventually I got a job as a bounty hunter and bought a trailer I call home and my horse.”
“Admirable,” he whispers right beside my ear.
My body involuntarily shivers at the feel of his breath sliding over my skin.
“What do you know about eternal mates?” he questions.
I have to blink a few times before staring at him. “Weird shift of topic.”
He shrugs. “Werewolf, remember? I thrive on getting what I want and I’ve been circling around my prey, looking for the right moment, long enough.”
“Your body recognizes an eternal mate by instinct, didn’t your parents teach you this?”
He leans in, our foreheads touching. “My father did, I’m just making sure yours did too so you know what I’m talking about when I say you, Ophelia, are mine.”
My heart stops before it starts to slam against my rib cage. My lips part and I want to deny, tell him he’s crazy, and yet I have no words.
He pulls back slightly, places a featherlight kiss on my forehead, and clears his throat before he says, “So, Allen Miles is an alias for Melvin Parkers? Any other information you have on the guy?”
I’m still processing the whole statement he threw out–about me being his eternal mate–and can’t shuffle topics as fast as he seems to be able to.
“Would you rather we have something to drink first?” he questions.
“Could you put a pin in your brain for one freaking moment and let me focus?” I huff. “No, I don’t want something to drink. I came here to get the one responsible for beating up my friend.”
“Your friend?” he growls