Dressed, I put the soiled panties in a pocket and turned to see Rafe pulling on his boots. He was watching me.
Damn him. He could be so damn infuriating. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be as charming as a snake-oil salesman, but he could also be a total ass. What kind of jerk told you that you were sleeping with him just to keep him from straying? Hell, it wasn’t as if we were married. I didn’t even love him, well, to be honest, I had serious feelings for him, but it wasn’t love. I think it was appreciation for what he’d done for me and what he continued to do. But the sex was just sex for God’s sake, a physical release from the pent-up tensions of our training together.
His son had been almost as charming but was down with sex without complications. Thinking of Alex made me think of his mother, Laura, and how Rafe had been forced to kill her. The image of him sliding his sword into her chest stayed with me. I shook my head, forcing my thoughts away from her death.
“Are you all right?” Rafe asked. He was dressed and standing a few feet from me while eyeing me cautiously.
“I’m fine. Drop the circle. I need a drink.”
Rafe glanced up at the sun, which was still a few degrees above the western mountain peaks. “It’s early, we should keep training.”
“Ain’t gonna happen. I’m done for the day,” I said.
When he made no motion to drop the circle, I felt for it with my mind, and then released the spell that held it. Since we were meshed when Rafe put up the circle, either of us could cancel it.
I turned away from him and walked across the soccer-field-sized clearing to my Harley. I slipped a leg over the seat and turned the key that I’d left in the ignition. My helmet was hanging from the handlebars, but I had my shield tattoo now, I didn’t need the damn helmet. I tossed it to the ground, dropped the transmission into gear, and left a cloud of dust in my wake as I accelerated toward the road.
Rafe shouted something behind me, but I ignored him. The arrogant bastard could just kiss my ass. The memory of just that brought a smile to my face, but then I shook the memory from my head and accelerated. Without the helmet, the wind teared my eyes and pushed my damp hair back against my scalp.
I triggered my shield and focused on it looking like a windshield in front of the handlebars. Immediately, the wind ceased to touch me. Cool.
But with the wind totally blocked, the ride lost some of its pleasure. I canceled the tat, feeling the warmth leave the tattoo on my back as it went cold. The wind buffeted me anew. Releasing the left handlebar, I fished out my sunglasses and slipped them on before leaning into the next curve on the road back to Raton.
It took almost twenty minutes to reach town. I’d been expecting Rafe and Beast to show up in my rear view mirrors at any moment, but there was still no sign of them when I slowed for the residential areas that bordered town.
I motored past our motel; the little restaurant had already closed for the day and I kept going toward the center of town. I’d seen several bars on our way into town, and any of them would fit the bill.
Shadows were stretching across the four-lane street when I pulled into the gravel parking lot of a bar called Cowboys. Although it was early, there were already several pickups and a half dozen motorcycles parked beside the squat building.
I backed my Harley in beside the other bikes, killed the engine, and then rested the Harley on its kickstand. A couple of bikers sat on a picnic table between the lot and the wall of the bar. They were smoking tobacco and watching me as I walked toward them.
“Evening,” I said when I was within ten feet of them.
“Evenin’,” said the one on my left. He was a thirty-something man with a trim beard and neatly cut blond hair.
The man on my right nodded in greeting. He was older than the blond, maybe old enough to be his father and while the younger man was fit and muscular, the older man had a paunch that shaded his enormous belt buckle.
“Does the bar serve food?” I asked.
The younger man made a point of looking me up and down, hesitating where my tight fitting leathers hugged my hips and then hesitating again at my chest. Guys are all about eye candy. Not that I consider myself eye candy. I’m fairly tall, about five feet ten, and I’m slim with nice curves in the right places. Before Rafe started restoring my missing limbs, I had maybe ten extra pounds on me, but the healing process had burned away any excess fat, and I was eating like six thousand calories a day just to try to put a little weight back on. My hair is sort of a deep auburn red, which shows the red more in bright sunlight than shade. It’s short, partially from my Army time and partially from having one side burned off in the explosion that cost me a hand and a leg. In the ten days or so since Rafe healed my burns, a stubble has grown out at least a half inch over the burn area.
Finally, the man’s eyes reached mine, and he nodded. “Yep, they have a short menu, but you can get hot pizza and a few sandwiches. If you talk nice to the bartender, he’ll even grill you a hamburger.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” I said and started past them.
“It’s not the kind of bar ladies usually enter alone. Would you like some company?”
I looked
