Sam shot me a devilish grin and headed to the door. “The good news is you’re going to look unbelievably hot doing it.”
I retracted my claws and texted Casey as we took the elevator to the parking deck. He’d sent me a dozen alternately worried, angry, and mildly inappropriate texts.
Sorry. Worked late at the bar. Crashed with Sam. Jaxson and I did none of the things you’re insinuating, so get your mind out of the gutter.
Not that some of his suggestions weren’t mentally stimulating.
When I didn’t pick up his subsequent call, he immediately hit me with a barrage of texts like a mother hen, so I had to put him on mute as we stepped out of the elevator.
Jaxson was waiting by a pair of Harleys in the parking deck. He tensed the moment he laid eyes on me, and his jaw dropped. “Your hair…”
I tossed it defiantly. “Sam dyed it—technically a temporary glamor—but it seemed prudent since they’re on the hunt for a redhead. Her idea.”
“Smart,” he muttered absently as his eyes traced every curve and assessed every buckle. He was taking a long time, and it was obvious his mind wasn’t on my words. I could feel his approval, a heady scent of desire and praise. Heat rushed into me, and part of me wanted him to be inspecting me with more than just his gaze.
“Up here, Laurent,” I sniped, pointing to my eyes.
He jerked his head.
Jaxson was fucking hot himself, and to my embarrassment, I actually licked my lips. I couldn’t help it. His muscles looked like they were going to rip his leather jacket apart at the seams.
Sam cleared her throat. “Savy’s pretty as a biker chick, huh?”
Jaxson growled in irritation. “Are you two ready?”
I crossed my arms and cocked my head. “We’re all dressed up. What’s the plan?”
“I was able to track down some information on the Arrowhead MC. They’re a werewolf motorcycle club known for running drugs and potions, but not magical weapons, so that’s a plus. We found a bar where a few of their members hang out in Indiana, though it’s not their main club. Just a place one or two guys frequent—which is exactly what we want.”
“So we’re going to tap one of them on the shoulder, and they’re just going to answer our questions?” I asked.
He shook his head. “We go in and wait for a chance to get one of their members alone. They’re werewolves, and though they’re not our pack, I’m an alpha. I can make them talk.”
“Something tells me they won’t go quietly,” Sam muttered.
“I can keep them in line,” Jaxson muttered.
Sam cocked her head to the side. “And who’s going to keep you in line? You think you’re going to play nice and forget what their gang did? The last time you saw someone touch Savannah, you smashed their face in.”
Darkness flushed his cheeks as his eyes turned a deep gold. I could see the first signs of a shift. “Then nobody better touch her.”
His voice was ice, and the implication hung in the air, chilling the whole parking deck. He’d kill anyone who even thought about touching me. I could smell the undercurrent of rage, but there was something more. A scent, a look, that was utterly feral. Lupine.
He’s alpha. They abducted his mate from his den, my wolf whispered in my mind.
My eyes flicked across the man, and suddenly, I saw him in a very different light. He was calm but operating with a razor-thin edge of control. He wasn’t just ready to kill any biker who touched me. He was ready to gut the whole MC, if given an excuse.
Trembling beneath his steely gaze, I stepped up and laid my fingers gently on his arm. His skin immediately responded to my touch. The tension in his muscles drained, and just like that, he was back to normal, his iron control restored.
I shuddered. Possessiveness was one thing, but what Jaxson had was off the charts. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the consequences of him thinking of me as his mate.
Or of being his mate.
He looked down at me, his voice low and gravelly, dragging over my nerve endings. “Are you ready to get answers?”
His words refocused my thoughts, and an angry rush of heat seared my neck. “Yes.”
“Then let’s ride.”
I glanced at the pair of shining chrome and black Harleys behind him. “There’s only two bikes. Does that mean—”
Jaxson swung his leg over the Harley and nodded. “You ride pillion with me.”
Of course.
“Sucker.” Sam laughed and winked as she mounted up on the second bike.
“Hey!” I exclaimed.
“Have you ridden two up before?” Jax asked as he pulled on a black helmet.
He knew I hated being a passenger. Sometimes, he could be absolutely infuriating. In this case, he was also correct. “No. I’ve never ridden a motorcycle.”
He chucked me a heavy blue helmet, and I grabbed it instinctively when it hit my gut. He patted the seat. “It’s simple. Just sit behind me and don’t make any sudden movements. Lean with the bike, and don’t try to compensate. It’s just like a dance—follow my lead.”
I flexed my fingers, put on my helmet, and popped the visor up. “Fine. Let’s go dancing.”
Jax took a moment to explain how to mount up, and I got on. Steadying myself with a hand on his shoulder, I put my right foot on one of the pegs, then swung my other leg up and over.
He looked back. “Sit up, but hold low around my waist, and don’t grab my arms or shoulders.”
I put my visor down and slowly slipped my arms around him in a soft embrace. I could feel his strength beneath my touch, grounding me. Even through the leather jackets, currents passed between us like prickling static on a cold winter’s day.
I took a deep breath. “Okay. If we’re going to do this, let’s get out of here.”
The motorcycles roared to life, and we rumbled out of the parking garage and down the road.