Van Helsing Rising - Helen Scott Page 0,39

they shouldn't still be standing.

My body is aching from holding the same position for so long and my ass is going numb from the vibrations of the bike. When we pull off onto a dirt path in the middle of fucking nowhere, I want to sigh in relief. I let my hands unclench from around the leather and drop, landing on Striker's thighs.

He jerks at the movement.

A sliver of guilt moves through me, but they had barely given me enough time to pee this morning before putting me on the back of a motorcycle and driving for what had to be hours. It’s because I can be a vindictive bitch when I want to that I leave my hands there, splayed across Striker's powerful thighs.

Part of me wants to tease him, to rub my hands all over him, but I know he won't be able to do anything about it to stop me, and that’s not fair. I've been on the receiving end of that treatment too many times to want to do it to someone else. So I just rest my hands there, feeling his muscles flex under my fingertips as his feet move the pedals, switching between gears as we slow, and tense as we turn.

If I'd thought we were on a dirt path before it’s nothing compared to what we’re on now. I’m glad to have my helmet because we are winding through trees, and branches are hitting me on the head as we go.

Finally, after what feels like days on the back of Striker's bike, we stop. The area we are in is like an old quarry or something similar. Piles of rock and sand fill the area, but the whole place is surrounded by trees. The flat area itself is bigger than my high school. Hell, it might have even been bigger than the compound the Immortal Hunters live in. It’s huge.

Why we'd had to take some weird back path and ride through the woods to get here I’m not sure, but it makes me wonder who exactly this land or quarry or whatever belongs to.

Striker pulls his helmet off, his hair falling down around his face, just a little, in wavy curls. He turns to me and looks at me through the locks of his hair. "You can get off now," he says.

I snort and mutter, "That's what she said."

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you a fuckin' teenager?"

"I have the mind of one, according to some people," I say, trying not to let the bitterness creep into my voice. Henry hated that I giggled at stupid shit, that I couldn't keep a straight face when people weren't paying attention to the way they phrased things.

Before he can ask me about it, I push from the bike and swing my leg over so I can hop off. Though hop wasn't exactly what I would call the stumble I take when I try to stand up straight once more.

"You might want to stretch," Dragon says quietly as though he’s giving me top secret information.

When I catch the scowl that Striker is giving him, I actually worry that he might have been.

"What the hell are we out in the boonies for?" I demand, remembering that I don't know where we are because they never bothered to tell me where we'd been going, and I don't know why we are here either.

"To test you," Striker says point-blank.

"Test? Like the scientists?" I ask, hating that my voice quivers as I speak.

"Something like that," Striker mutters.

Fuck. What the hell have I gotten myself into with these guys? Had I really been thinking that they were the closest thing to good guys I'd ever seen just now?

18

Striker

Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? It had been bad enough having her pressed up against me the whole ride over, and when her hands landed on my thighs I almost lost it like a fucking teenager. But now my stupid ass has to go and compare us to the fucking Necron Order?

"No, not like the scientists," Dragon says, jumping in and scowling at me.

His words don't erase the look of fear on Dani's face though. One that I put there. If I’m honest with myself, it was probably a little intentional. I have orders, orders I don't want to have to carry out, so if she’s scared of me then maybe it will make those orders easier to follow.

"We have to test your abilities," I say.

"What? What do you mean 'abilities'?" she demands.