“Faith, I say we come back later,” Hawke muttered as the men behind her became a bit more restless. “I don’t want to be fightin’ for your virtue, hon.”
So much for his willingness to fight, she sighed. Any other time he would be pitching head long into the fray. They had been searching for Jacob for two months now, and she was tired of being bruised and bloody from the fights he instigated.
She glanced over her shoulder, restraining the urge to roll her eyes. It wouldn’t be her first fight or her last, she was sure. But she definitely wasn’t in the mood tonight. She just wanted to find Jacob, give him the information and the message she had, then return home and sleep for a month.
Why she had to go traipsing after his ass, she didn’t know. Orders. She was Liaison, she mocked Wolfe’s words silently. It was her job. Like Jacob wanted her running around after him. He had shown how important she was to him when he walked away from her, again, six months ago.
“Don’t worry about my virtue, Hawke, it’s been in doubt for years,” she replied mockingly.
She pushed her hand impatiently through her short hair. She wasn’t going to think about it, she promised herself. She had more important things to deal with than the memory of her lost virtue or the man who had taken it. Or if it even counted as lost virtue.
She shifted impatiently, her hand falling to the revolver strapped to her thigh, thankful that she had checked it before entering the seedy little bar. If things got out of hand too much, it was there, but she sure as hell didn’t want to have to deal with the problems that would come with using it.
“Faith, this could be a bad thing,” Hawke drawled lazily. “We draw too much attention and we’re screwed. We’ll never find your man then. “
“He’s not my man,” she muttered as she sipped impatiently at her beer. “And he’s supposed to be here tonight. He better be, I sure as hell paid enough money for the information.” Damned good thing it was Wolfe’s money and not hers, she thought. She got testy where her money was involved.
“Uh oh, they’re getting up from the table. Gang rape time, baby. We better get the hell out of here,” Hawke warned her with a hard edge of amusement. Damn him, he sounded like he was enjoying the thought of the coming fight. Energy pulsed through her own veins, the restless, charged anticipation inside her longing to escalate into the hard driving fury the fight would produce.
“Shit!” She slapped her beer on the bar and turned to leave, furious that male morons were going to foul this up for her. She didn’t need another fight. Didn’t need the all consuming arousal it produced later. No vibrator, no mate. She would be in hell.
As she turned around, she came face to face with the first of the morons in question. Suddenly, a large area cleared around the bar, the two dozen or so patrons now watching with interest, but little intervention as the six goons faced her.
The biggest, a broad, football player sized behemoth stared down at Faith with lustful, dull brown eyes.
“You readee to play, leetle gurl?” He asked her in halting English.
Faith barely managed to keep from rolling her eyes. Oh yeah, she really wanted to play, her life’s ambition was to play with a King Kong wannabe with the brains of a gnat.
“With you?” She arched a slender, auburn brow with curious amusement. “Sorry, babe, but I already have a date tonight.” She moved back carefully, aware of the other three men lining along the other side of the bar.
If he didn’t understand the words completely, he definitely understood the sneer in her voice. One hand gripped the flesh between his legs as he smiled, displaying the rotten teeth he seemed so proud of.
“I say you play, leettle girl,” he grunted in rough English.
“I say you f**k off,” she said easily, her body tensing for the fight to come.
“Faith, your manners,” Hawke reminded her sarcastically. “Not every women gets such a gentle proposition.”
“Manners be damned.” She grimaced. “I’m going to kick Jacob’s ass for getting me into this.”
* * * * *
Hawke grinned. He needed her mad. Faith’s antipathy was beginning to worry Wolfe and the rest of the Pack. She lived, and that was all. She did her job as required, collected her pay, and the rest of the time she stayed holed up in that kick ass apartment she had managed to con someone out of. She was one of the few Pack members who didn’t live within the perimeters Wolfe had set out for them. She was their messenger, informer, and a general spy among spies from what he could figure out. But he liked her. Get her mad enough and she could kick ass with the best of them.
Her training was rusty though, as Wolfe had warned him it would be. He had spent two months getting her back into shape before steering her to Jacob’s true location. Not that she seemed too impressed with his efforts to get her back to peak ability. All she did was bitch about her bruises and scratches. Anytime he expected her to light into him over a broken nail. Damned woman, this was what he got for bringing her back to her mate? He controlled his snort. He would be smarter and mate with a much less stubborn female.
Hawke sighed, his attention momentarily diverted as a shadow moved along the end of the bar. His eyes widened, a shiver danced over his spine as his acute sense of smell picked up the animal that had moved closer. Perhaps not an animal, no more than he was himself, Hawke knew, but this was a prime male. His dark brown hair lay thick and heavy along his shoulders, pale blue eyes watched the scene with interest.
He lounged against the bar, clearly determined to be of no help at all despite his obvious link with Faith. And there was a link. The male across the room carried the same scent that Hawke often caught when he came too close to Faith. The smell was dark and elusive, a warning. A mark that Faith belonged to another, to the man making no move at all to save her. Hawke had finally led Faith to her mate, and he had a feeling Jacob wasn’t too pleased with his efforts either.
* * * * *
Jacob grimaced as Faith’s body tensed for the coming fight, her attention focused on the six men who were determined to rape her. Her body, lean and fit, lightly muscled and honed to peak condition was still small, fragile looking. The male with her was prepared as well, casting Jacob another look, this one filled with a message. Jacob smiled and shook his head, grunting at the fury that washed over the other man’s expression.
This new Faith was an enigma. He tilted his head, watching her, seeing irritation and impatience reflecting in her face. The savage pleasure of the coming fight was absent, but it was still something she was looking forward to. She was testing herself, he thought. Pitting some inner anger, a desperate surge of emotion against the bastards who dared to get in her way. It was—arousing—to watch. Her companion on the other hand, seemed more than worried.
Jacob had no intentions of letting Faith get hurt. If it even looked as though she was about to break a nail on the bastards she was fighting, he would rip their throats out. That was his woman. His blood mate. His teeth had marked her skin, her blood had filled his mouth as she screamed out beneath him. That was no small thing. The time in between then and now didn’t matter. Whether her scream was of pleasure or pain, was beside the point. Fact was fact. She was his. And as he watched her, he realized he was tired of waiting for her. Tired of needing her. Damn her to hell, it was time to rid her gaze of the fear it held each time she looked at him. If he could keep his control long enough to show her the tenderness he wanted so deeply to give her.