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“Now would you look at that,” someone murmured, though everyone already was. “Those guys sure know how to make an entrance.”
My dragon snorted.They think they’re so big and bad.
“Trouble?” someone muttered to the bartender.
My whole body tensed, sensing at least one supernatural among them.
My dragon growled.Trouble, for sure.
Chapter Three
NASH
The bartender laughed off the question.
“Trouble? Nah. Those guys wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Superficially, he had a point. The youngest of the gang were in their late fifties. The rest were older, with gray hair worn long to compensate for the bald spots. Most were big and broad-chested, but a little creaky swinging their legs over their bikes.
But those guys didn’t worry me. It was their leader I had my eye on.
Top Dog sauntered in like he owned the place. A fit, tough, sixtysomething, leather-clad guy with a big old handlebar mustache to complete the Hells Angels look. He took in the crowd with one dismissive fly-by, then lit up on spotting…Erin?
I did a double take, because she really didn’t seem like a biker-babe type.
But Erin it was, and my dragon immediately went on high alert.
If that guy so much as bothers her…
Then I gaped. Not only did he point to her like an old bag he’d come back to claim, but Erin jumped up with a happy squeak. When they met two steps away from her table, the big guy picked her up, twirled her around, and puckered up for a kiss.
Gross,my dragon rumbled.
I looked away just in time, deeply disappointed. She didn’t seem the type to hook up with a motorcycle dude twice her age. But, hey. There was no telling with some people.
Still, my stomach roiled, and something like jealousy slugged through my veins.
“Hey, baby,” he announced.
I scowled. Baby? She was a grown woman. And yet she fawned all over the guy — one of those silver-fox types women swooned over.
Every head in the place followed Top Dog, then jumped away at his glare of warning. The rest of his gang filed in, flooding the place.
“Mike! Ted! Bones!” Erin and her sisters cheered at each of them.
Bones? Hadn’t they outgrown dumb nicknames like that?
I swiveled slightly, studying Top Dog’s wide shoulders from the back. Or rather, studying the space around them. Was it shimmering?
I leaned this way and that, but it was impossible to tell. Finally, I strolled toward the restroom to check from a different angle.
My breath caught. The space around his shoulders was definitely shimmering.
I sniffed the air. The man had the commanding presence of a shifter but not the scent of one. On the other hand, he didn’t lack any odor at all, which would have beenreallybad news. The only beings with no scent — or, at most, the faint smell of ammonia — were vampires.
So, he wasn’t a shifter or a vampire. But definitely not human.
Warlock,my dragon growled.
