“Tess, drop your shield,” Rafe said.
“What?” I asked, looking at him.
He nodded toward the bed.
The older biker had apparently passed out and was lying limp on the covers.
“As you wish,” I snarled and canceled the tat’s energy.
The man’s head dropped a couple of inches to the mattress. He might have still been breathing.
I fastened my blouse back on and shrugged into my jacket before gathering my socks and boots.
When I was fully dressed, I picked the Colt back up and looked at the three men who had tried to rape me. How many times had they done this to other women? How many times would they do it again?
“I’m not letting them get away with this,” I said to Rafe.
He turned, studied my face for a few moments, and then nodded. “Certainly not, but we don’t want to leave bodies for the police either. Get your bra; we don’t want to leave anything of ours behind.”
I picked it up and shoved it in the pocket with my panties.
“Now what?” I asked.
Rafe raised a hand toward the back wall and triggered a tat. A blast of energy blew out the cement block wall.
Dust swirled around the opening. It blew all around us on the night breeze.
Rafe picked up each one of my attackers and threw them bodily through the opening into the alley behind the bar. The older man was starting to wake up. I guess he hadn’t suffocated after all. Too bad. The bartender was begging for his life, and the younger biker was sobbing while clutching at the wound in his shoulder.
Rafe and I followed them through the hole in the wall. Outside, I could hear several motorcycles racing away from the bar and in the distance came the sound of sirens.
“Beast, come here,” Rafe called loudly.
A few seconds passed and then Beast, in Harley form, roared around the edge of the building. He stopped beside Rafe.
All three rapist were staring at the Harley.
“Beast, morph, please. I need you to open a portal for me,” Rafe said.
A few seconds passed as Beast shifted forms from a 1965 Harley-Davidson Electra-glide to eight-hundred pound manticore.
The bartender screamed, and the two bikers started scrambling away from the massive beast.
“Where to?” Beast growled.
“How about to your home? You said your wife had a taste for human flesh, right?” Rafe said.
“You want to encourage her rude behavior?” Beast asked.
Rafe shrugged. “She doesn’t have to eat them. You don’t even have to put them anywhere near her, just to your world.”
“They won’t last an hour,” Beast growled.
Rafe shrugged. “That’s up to them.”
Beast turned toward the three men and spoke a spell in his own language. A shimmering portal opened in the alley behind them.
“Excellent,” Rafe said. “Now, if any of you survive, perhaps you will learn a lesson about attacking women who appear helpless.”
With that, Rafe activated another blast that shoved all three rapists through the portal.
A second later, Beast closed the portal.
“Now that this mess is cleaned up, perhaps we should leave before the police arrive,” Rafe said.
“Fine by me,” I said, returning Rafe’s Colt to its pocket.
I walked around the corner of the building toward the gravel lot where I’d parked my own Harley. There were still two bikes in the lot, but no sign of the owners. I guessed they belonged to two of the rapists.
I mounted up and cranked the engine as Rafe joined me astride Beast, once again in Harley form.
Rafe motioned, and I accelerated away from the bar, back toward our motel. A police car passed us, heading toward Cowboys, about a block down the street. The officer looked at me but didn’t give me a second glance.
At the motel, I parked in my usual spot outside our room. Rafe pulled up beside me and slid off of Beast.
“You can go,” he said. “Be back by sunrise.”
“Certainly,” Beast growled. He shifted back into his manticore form and, with a blast of wind, leapt into the sky.
I got our door open and shoved in before Rafe. He paused at the open door long enough to set a ward and then turned to me.
He seemed calm, while I still felt like killing something. I still couldn’t believe that bastard bartender had roofied me. I was careful when I was out. The Army spent a lot of time training me to keep an eye on my surroundings and on my drink. I just never expected the rat-bastard bartender to be the one I needed to watch.
“I need a shower,” I said.
“Okay,” Rafe replied. “I’ll order pizza.”
I shucked off my jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. Unbuttoning my blouse, I walked to the bath, tossing my blouse into the corner near the shower as I turned and pushed the door shut. Rafe still stood near the front door, watching me.
I finished stripping and got under the water without waiting for it to warm up. I reached for the faucets and saw my hands shaking. I’d never been so close to killing anyone in the heat of the moment. Sure, I may or may not have killed some Taliban bastards while in the ’Stan, but you can’t always tell if your bullet took someone down or if it was the guy’s next to you. I was pretty sure I had a couple of kills, but each time I’d been doing my job, helping protect my buds. I’d always been calm in a firefight, not like a stone cold killer, but not like a nervous ninny either. I was well trained and calm as bullets buzzed past me and I returned fire. It was never like tonight. I had wanted to kill
