RedKnife (Skin Walkers Book 2) (3 page)

Cameron jumped and backed up as RedKnife spun on him.  Monroe stepped in front of RedKnife to block his path to the now pale detective.

“Mr. Cameron, my men don’t take kindly to being falsely accused of a crime, and they take it as a personal challenge when someone threatens their women.”

Backing up another step, Cameron straightened his tie as his face flushed in anger.  “It’s not a threat.  It’s my job, and I do my job very well, gentlemen.  You’d do well to remember that.”

“And you’d do well to remember to call next time.”  Monroe lifted his hand and King stepped forward.  “Get him off my land.”

King grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him toward the door.

“Wait,” Cameron yelled over his shoulder.  “I need Ms. Sambrano’s work schedule and employment history.”

King kept walking and Monroe growled without looking back, “Contact my attorney!”

Once the detective was gone Monroe eyed RedKnife warily.  “You alright?”

Without responding, RedKnife turned to eye the empty hall where Cindy had disappeared.

“She’s been with us for two years.  She’s a good woman, RedKnife.  I don’t want you causing her any trouble.”

A low growl rumbled loose as RedKnife flicked a scowl at the CEO.

“I mean it.  She only touched you to save your ass.  She wasn’t trying to offend you.”  Monroe stalked toward the elevator.  “Let it go.”

Alone in the hall RedKnife was shocked that Monroe would think he’d been offended by Cindy’s actions.  In fact, they had quite the opposite effect.  An emotion overcame him, one so foreign that it took RedKnife a minute to place it.  His lips thinned. 
Interest.
  It was the last thing he needed right now.  The Estate was only just up and running, he needed to look into Jenny’s actions, and Walkers were pouring in daily.  He didn’t have time for sudden flights of fancy where little Miss Cindy was concerned, but the pull to her was undeniable.

Chapter 4

As was typical for a Thursday afternoon, Cindy was alone in the bar.  The large, dimly-lit room was floor to ceiling cherry oak.  A deep mahogany bar curved in an elegant ‘L’ against the far wall, and in front of the bar intimate little tables sat scattered about the room under jeweled chandeliers.  It was called the Crow’s Nest, and it resembled a high-class private gentleman’s club.  When Cindy initially applied and took a tour of the facility, she expected the clientele to consist of crusty old men.  Instead, the stream of chiseled men and beautiful women who frequented the establishment was a delightful shock.

Cindy had been employed at the Crow’s Nest for the past two years and in that time she’d come to discover that StoneCrow was not the wildlife preserve and rehabilitation center it claimed to be.  Sure, she’d seen enough wild animals on the Estate to fool anyone who didn’t know better, but she knew better.  She’d kept her mouth shut, and her eyes and ears open.  Over her two-year employment she’d heard several heated arguments take place over too many beers, too many countless drunken confessions that left her fearful of ever asking questions or revealing exactly how much she knew.

She was aware that StoneCrow housed a private society of individuals who referred to themselves as Walkers.  Skin Walkers.  There seemed to be a hierarchy to their society, but she had no idea as to the criteria that created the chain of command, and she didn’t need, or want, to know.  She’d Googled the term the first time she’d heard it and was startled to find references to southwestern tribal stories that told of malevolent witches capable of transforming into animal form.  These witches also purportedly had the ability to absorb themselves into an individual’s body if eye contact was made.  Like an idiot, she’d avoided looking anyone in the eye for three weeks straight after she’d researched the term.  It was then she’d passed out from not eating and wound up in the infirmary.  Stoney was with her when she woke, and imagine her shock when her body wasn’t invaded when she made eye contact with the Nurse, or subsequently with Doctor Jenny.  She knew both Stoney and Jenny were Walkers because they wore the same silver necklaces the others wore.  No, necklace wasn’t the right word.  It was more of a stiff band around their throats.  She’d discreetly studied them as she’d delivered drinks to Crow’s Nest patrons over the past two years.  The band appeared to have no clasp, and she’d never seen any of them remove the band.  Over the two years, though, she had noted that a few of the Walker’s who’d entered into relationships had come absent their halo, a thick scar in its stead.  The marks almost looked like a burn that had healed.  Whatever it was, the bands were some form of symbol or sigil to these Walkers.

When she’d first started, several things struck her as odd.  First, the school and infirmary were not typical of any preserve she’d ever been to, and the pub she worked at was the strangest of all.  Who would want their employees drinking?  It wasn’t until a few days in that she realized StoneCrow was an actual community where these individuals worked, lived, and raised their young.

Secretly, she was a little flattered that they’d permitted her access.  Another part of her was equally terrified at the gesture.  What if these witches took over her body and made her into a demon?  What if they killed her and dumped her in a ditch?  What if she kept her mouth shut, head down, and did her job?  She’d opted for the latter.  The pay was too damn good to pass up.

Since then, Cindy did just that.  Careful to keep her head down, her mouth shut, and her eyes wide open, she’d gleaned little real information.  But the little she did learn was unbelievable.  Whatever this private society was, they were attempting to hide and live a peaceful existence.  She couldn’t fault them for wanting to live in peace.  That’s why she’d helped the Walker today.

She’d also partly done it to help out Monroe … or maybe just to kiss his ass in hopes of a raise.  Once, while she was working behind the bar in the Crow’s Nest, two of the giant Walker men had fought, and one was injured.  Cindy had rushed to the phone to call 9-1-1 when the phone was suddenly ripped from her fingers.  Monroe hung it up with a firm warning to “
Never invite any outsiders onto the Estate.  EVER!
”  The injured Walker had been carted off to the Estate’s infirmary, and Cindy had learned a valuable lesson about how secret Monroe wanted his community to remain.

So, she’d helped the tall, sexy Walker and prayed it bought her some points.

RedKnife
.  Her lips curled, thinking of the look on his face when she’d called him Kitten’s Eyelashes.  The endearment was outlandish, and such a contradiction to his real name.  RedKnife KillsPrettyEnemy.  It was a scary name, a beautiful name, a handsome name.  It exuded strength, and Cindy found herself smiling at the other feelings the memory of the man conjured up.  He was sexy as hell, dangerously so.  She’d pretended to head to work, only to hide down the hall and peek around the corner to ensure the nasty little detective didn’t attempt to arrest RedKnife.  She saw when he’d turned on the Agent, and the way he’d growled at Cameron when he’d threatened to look into her was so damn hot.  She’d felt protected, coveted.  It was a nice feeling, as brief as it may have been.

Pulling herself from her reverie, Cindy wiped down the already-clean tables and used the remote to flip on the large flat-screen TV that sat just behind the bar.  She scanned the channels until she found a hockey game then made herself a cherry coke before taking a seat on the other side of the bar.  She’d done it often, as she knew she’d be able watch for customers in the mirror that stretched the entire expanse of the wall behind the bar.

“Come on, Detroit!”  She yelled at the screen, deflated that the Colorado Avs had just scored on her team.  “Dominick Hasek would’ve never given up that goal!”  She shook her head in disgust.  “Amateurs.”

She startled at the sound of a chair being pulled out.  Her hand flew to her chest as she spun to what had only moments before been an empty bar.  Her eyes locked on RedKnife as he slowly sat, the wooden chair creaking under his weight.

“Jesus!  You scared me.”  She noted that, instead of decelerating, her heart actually quickened in pace.

RedKnife watched her curiously without responding.

Okay, not much of a talker. 
Cindy grabbed the remote and turned the TV off before walking to the other side of the bar and grabbing a dry towel, throwing it over her shoulder.

“What can I get you?”  She avoided eye contact as she fought the blush that crept over her.  Just a few short hours ago she’d lied about having sex with him, and then she’d kissed him unabashedly, pretending to be his girlfriend.

When he didn’t respond, she chanced a quick glance and pulled the towel from her shoulder to wipe her already-dry hands.

“Did you want something to drink?”  She was trying to play it cool.

“Beer,” he answered in a low rumble.

She couldn’t help but wonder if the deep timbre of his voice was natural, or if he was intentionally pitching it low to intimidate her.  She didn’t ask for specifics; she just reached in the cooler and retrieved a cold beer before twisting the cap off and crossing to set it on a napkin in front of him.  There was no charge.  For some reason, her boss provided free food and drinks to all under his employee.

Still refusing to meet his gaze, even though she knew she’d been under his careful scrutiny since he’d walked in, she made to pull her hand back, when his much larger one caught her wrist.

“Why did you lie?”

She felt a jolt shoot through her at his touch, and she lifted her eyes to his.  Christ, he was hot!  Full lips set in a square jaw, perfectly tanned skin stretched over sharp features.  She watched as his eyes seemed to darken even further.  His long, straight black hair was pulled back into a braid that hung down to his waist.  God what she’d give to see that hair unbound, to comb her fingers through it.

She tried to pull her hand back, knowing her pulse was pounding under his touch.  “A lie deserves a lie,” she stated simply.  Her brows furrowed when he refused to release her.

“Meaning?”

Cindy frowned at him.  “They were wrong, lying to try to pin you with a crime.  I just fibbed a little.”

His voice smoothed over her.  “You said we slept together.”

She didn’t even attempt to hide the flush that singed high on her cheeks at the statement.  “Do you mind?”  She glared down at where his hand held hers trapped.  When she looked back up, his eyes drifted down to her lips then back up to her eyes before he released her.

She wasted no time in turning her back on him and retreating behind the bar to open the dishwasher.  She worked furiously at pulling out clean glasses and stacking them on the back bar.  “The lie was a favor.”  She couldn’t help the annoyance that edged her tone.  “You’re welcome.”

“Why?”

Fuck, I wouldn’t have if I’d known it would turn into this.
  Exasperated at both the interrogation and the fact that he was making her so damn nervous, she faced him, planting both hands on her lean hips.  “Were you involved in that man’s disappearance?”

When he didn’t answer she crossed her arms over her chest.  “Well…were you?”  Her brows hiked with the last two words.

“No.”

“Then why should you pay for something you weren’t part of?”

“You didn’t know.”

“What?  That you were innocent?”  She uncrossed her arms and turned back to her glasses.  “Brock and Marko knew.”

“You trust them?”

“They’ve never given me any reason not to.”

She turned when she heard his stool scrape on the wood floor, watching as he paced to the end of the bar then around behind it, stalking her.

Chapter 5

Cindy eyed RedKnife nervously as he slowly approached.

His voice was low as he asked, “So you don’t
truly
know if I made him disappear or not.  You don’t know if I’m a killer or not.  You just trust that Brock and Marko know.”

Her heart slammed into the wall of her chest.  He was right!  She’d gotten him off without being certain he wasn’t a murderer.  She took a step back as he slowly approached.  “C-customers aren’t supposed to be behind the bar,” she whispered.

His lips tilted in a mocking smile, but he continued his approach.

“I could lose my job.”  She was trying to appeal to his sense of decency.  She’d done him a favor.  He should be happy about it.  She took several steps back, talking as she went.  “Monroe won’t like that you’re behind the bar.”  When her back hit the furthest end of the bar her heart fluttered.  She was trapped.  Her eyes darted to the door praying for a customer.  Nothing.  She was alone with a man whom the police were investigating in a missing person case.

“I do not fear Monroe.”  His eyes pinned her in place as he approached, towering over her.

Cindy shook her head but didn’t respond, her mouth falling open with a faint whimper.

“I fear
no
man.”  His expression hardened.

Seconds away from screaming for help, Cindy swallowed hard and drew in a deep breath.

“
Why
did you help me?” RedKnife demanded, now inches in front of her.

It was a gloomy winter’s day, but the sun shone through, bathing the forest outside the windows of the Crow’s Nest in filtered light.  The light quickly faded, and Cindy startled as a clap of thunder sounded loudly overhead. 
Thunder!  In winter?

Ignoring the sudden change in the weather, Cindy lifted her eyes to his, desperately trying to tamp down her fear of RedKnife.  He was so close that she had to tilt her head far back just to meet his eyes.  “B-because I believe you’re innocent.” 
Oh God, please be innocent!

He lifted a hand to touch her cheek.  The gesture was done awkwardly, as if he’d never stroked a woman’s cheek before.

Cindy flinched involuntarily, then cursed herself as a growl rumbled from his chest before his free hand gently—yet firmly—collared her throat to hold her in place as he once again lifted the fingers of his opposite hand to her cheek.

“You fear my touch?”

“N-no,” she stammered.

“You give me the benefit of the doubt?”

Taking a steadying breath, she resolutely looked up to meet his eyes, blinking back the fearful tears that pooled there.  “Yes.”  It was said with conviction, and she shuddered as she watched his eyes darken.

“It was not your place.”

She didn’t move, afraid the slightest gesture could set him off.  “If I’ve offended you … I-I apologize.”

RedKnife’s fingers slid down her cheek until his thumb eased over her bottom lip.  “Not offended.  Something
else
.”

Cindy tested a cautious lean back, but the hand around her throat tightened marginally as RedKnife tilted his head and stared down at her, studying her face.  Then he leaned in and inhaled deeply, and his chest rumbled.

Fuck!  What have I done?

Cindy lifted both hands, placing them firmly against his chest, and pushed.  “I…I have to get back to work.”

His lips peeled back in a snarl from perfect teeth as he growled his displeasure.  Long fangs flashed at the sides of his mouth, and Cindy’s heart nearly stopped.  At first, she thought she’d angered him with her words, but then she saw his gaze jerk to the side.

“RedKnife?”

Frozen in place, Cindy shifted just her eyes, startled to find Monroe standing right inside the door.  Relief washed over her as RedKnife loosened his grip by a fraction.  His eyes came back to her as he ignored the CEO, roving over her features as if taking in every detail.

“Ms. Sambrano needs to get back to work.  I’m not paying her to stand around.”

Something in Monroe’s voice let Cindy know that RedKnife shouldn’t be forced.  The CEO wasn’t as commanding as he typically would have been.  No, he was cajoling the larger Walker.  It was terrifying, even if the man was sexier than any she’d ever seen in her life.  She kept her hands on his chest, about to push at him again, when Monroe shook his head imperceptibly.

She stilled and lifted her eyes to slowly meet RedKnife’s.  Softly, she whispered, “I-I have to get back to work.  My boss is here.  I need this job.  I don’t want to get in trouble.”

RedKnife’s features contorted into a sneer.  “Do you fear him?”  RedKnife jerked his head to look at Monroe, anger and challenge evident in his scowl.

“No,” Cindy answered quickly.  “I just have a lot to do before I get off.”

He didn’t move.

“Please,” she quietly implored.  “I
need
this job.”

He turned back to stare into her eyes.  “When?”

She shook her head.  “When what?”

“
When
are you off?” he demanded impatiently.

Cindy swallowed hard. 
Why does it matter?
  Her eyes flitted to the clock that hung behind the bar.  “Two.”

RedKnife leaned in again, and Cindy’s heart stuttered to a halt.  For a fraction of a second she thought he intended to kiss her.  Instead, he inhaled deeply, his cheek brushing over hers as his nose brushed over her hair, another growl rumbling deep in his chest.

“Two,” he repeated, before releasing her and walking out from behind the bar, brushing past Monroe and leaving the Crow’s Nest without another word.

Cindy flattened both hands on the bar, suddenly needing the support to keep herself erect. 
What in the hell just happened?

“You alright?”  Monroe moved behind the bar, filling a glass with water and handing it to her.

“Fine.”  She took the glass, lifting it with a shaky hand to sip from it as the CEO led her around the bar to the stool RedKnife had vacated earlier.  “I’m sorry, M-Mr. StoneCrow.” Her words stuttered as the storm outside the window quickly dissipated and the weakened winter sun shone through.  “I don’t know what happened.  One second he was having a drink, and the next he was behind the bar.  I told him he couldn’t be back there, but …”  She didn’t finish the sentence.

The CEO stepped to the liquor shelves and poured himself a drink as he stared down at her.  “He didn’t mean any harm.  He’s just … different.”

Cindy looked up to meet his eyes.  “Understatement of the year.”  She lifted the glass for another sip, but paused, alarm bells going off in her head.  “Different how?  Should I be worried?”

Monroe stared over his glass of amber liquid and ice.  “On both accounts, I’m not sure.  He won’t harm you.  He’s just appreciative I think.”

“That’s a helluva reaction for appreciation.”

“He’s not sure how to express his gratitude.  I don’t think he’s experienced it much before.  Certainly not for someone so … unassuming.”  Monroe tilted his head at the last word, as if not sure if it was the appropriate term.

“Unassuming?” Cindy scoffed, slightly offended.

Monroe set his glass down.  “What I mean is that RedKnife is only used to individuals helping him that he believes can afford to help.  Men who are big, strong, wealthy.  I don’t think he’s ever received assistance from a small female who works as a bartender.  You’ve thrown him off.  He only ever responds to power and, no offense, but you’re about the most powerless person he’s ever encountered.  And yet, you offered him your aid.  You helped him, and he’s…confused.”

“Well what does he want?”

Monroe threw back his glass of whiskey, draining the contents.  “I’m not sure.”  His eyes turned to the door, shaking his head as he contemplated the question.  “But he does want something.”

“Why do you say that?”

Monroe’s eyes slid back to her.  “Because RedKnife doesn’t like confined spaces.”

Cindy’s eyebrow’s hiked as her eyes scanned the empty bar.  “This is hardly a confined space.”

“It is for him.  The last time he entered a building voluntarily, it was to protect the injured wife of his only friend.  He also doesn’t speak often, hardly ever as a matter of fact.  The few words he shared with you tonight is more than he’s ever shared, even with me.”

“It was more than a few words,” she clarified, then regretted mentioning it when she saw the shock that washed across Monroe’s features.

He tilted his head, a smile curling his lips.  “It would seem, Ms. Sambrano, that you have earned yourself an admirer.”

Shit!
  She should have kept her damn kisses to herself.