Two for Tamara (4 page)

The little brunette that reminded him of a smaller version of Tamara shook her head. “I’m sorry I bothered you.” Her hair swung in an arc as she pivoted around and hurried back to the men—or assholes—waiting. The one Rafe had pegged as the leader jerked her to him with more force than necessary and covered her lips with his own, staking his claim.

It was unnecessary in Rafe’s mind. He walked to the front desk. Even though he could’ve easily manifested everything he needed to acquire a room, anywhere he wanted, they’d adapted to blend into society. This small roadside motel—
notel
—had called to him on a deeper level. He was beginning to wonder if it had something to do with the young girl being manhandled behind him.

Not all the Ravens had the same abilities gifted to them from the gods and goddesses who had created them. Each man was similar but different. Rafe kept his differences hidden, knowing the others wouldn’t understand, would assume if he had a part of that in him then he was evil.

After paying for a single-occupancy room with cash, Rafe walked back outside, not surprised to see the group still there. His boots crunched the loose gravel beneath his feet. The young girl was the only one who looked too young to be out. The others were clearly over the drinking age, and he wondered where her parents were.

His bike was still where he’d left it, but his helmet was no longer hanging from the bars. His eyes widened. Not that he couldn’t conjure up another one, but damn he loved that skull cap.

“Yo, where’d my shit go?” Rafe stopped next to his bike.

The pin cushion stood behind the too-young girl. With the brown hair and emerald-green eyes, the Irish blood was clearly evident in her appearance. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Pin Cushion spat a stream of brown shit from his mouth.

Rafe nodded his head.

There were several ways he could handle this. One, he could ignore it and go to his room, or two, he could make the little shits give him his helmet back. Rafe pivoted on his booted heel and walked toward the door with the room number that matched his key.

Pin Cushion must’ve done something to the little brunette, because the whimper he’d recognized from before echoed across the parking lot, followed by a pain-filled gasp.

A red haze filled Rafe’s gaze.

In a blink, he was in the face of the idiot who thought it was cute to torment a little girl. “You think you’re tough?” Rafe squeezed the man by the throat, bringing him up off the ground to eye level with Rafe.

The young girl, who was probably five foot two, jumped up and down trying to grab onto his bicep. “Please don’t hurt him.”

Rafe looked down into her face. “Why are you with him?”

Surrounded by over fifteen members of what was more than likely a gang, Rafe probably should have been a little scared. But he was a Raven, blah, blah, blah. Scared wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“He’s turning blue. Please let him go.”

Several figures rushed at him from all sides, and he pushed a pulse of power out, sending them falling on their asses.

Dropping Pin Cushion, who fell on his back, Rafe squatted next to his head. “I suggest you and your homies get the fuck out of my presence ASAP, before I lose my temper. You don’t want me to lose my temper, now do you, boy?” Rafe let his dark eyes turn red. The smell of fresh urine hit Rafe’s nose.

He blinked before turning to the young girl. “You will sever all ties with these asshats and all association with them. Make better choices.” He probed her mind to find she was indeed only sixteen. Her parents were wealthy and probably had no clue she’d snuck out with her friend who was nineteen. Rafe looked over her head to see the girl in question. Drugs wafted off the entire group, except the young girl in front of him. He sighed.

He’d shielded the parking lot from the outside world, keeping anyone from seeing what was happening. Now he needed to wipe the minds of a group of drug-addicted fools and get a young girl home. His night just kept getting better and better.

Manipulating the minds of sober humans was tricky, but kids hopped up on shit was like child’s play. Getting them to believe they’d all had one fucked-up hallucination was an option, but then Rafe wanted to make them…better.
Shit.
Call him Dr. Fucking Rafe.

* * * *

Tamara groaned. Of course Asteria didn’t, couldn’t have known to stock the fridge. She was a goddess for crying out loud. All they had to do was think what they needed, and
poof
, there it was.

Knowing she couldn’t put it off any longer, Tamara pulled her cell phone out and called the cab company she used the last time she was out. She hoped the same cabby who gave her the creeps wasn’t the one they sent this time. On the off chance luck wasn’t with her, she made sure her can of mace was in her bag, her trusty blade was within reach, and she was dressed more appropriately than the last time. Not that she thought how a woman dressed gave any man the right to accost her, but she didn’t want to give him a peep show. She shuddered at the memory of his beady eyes on her through the rearview mirror. Yeah, he was a total creeper.

Karma was not on her side today obviously. The cab drew up with none other than the balding head of the man who had picked her up before.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Tamara yelled, shutting the door to the cottage.

“When the call came in for a pick up this far out, I volunteered for the long drive.” The driver smiled, showing yellowing teeth.

Barely suppressing a shiver, Tamara hefted her bag onto her shoulder. “Oh, that’s great.”

“Would you like to sit in the front instead of the back? My name is Carl by the way.”

Unable to come up with a nice way to say no, she gave a small nod. “Sure, that would be fine.”

Carl took chivalry a little too far for Tamara’s peace of mind. His hand brushed her lower back like he was guiding her into the passenger side. She controlled the urge to elbow him in the gut, glad she wore a pair of palazzo pants and a silk tank top in deference to the heat. Still, she had a premonition the man was not exactly who he was pretending to be. At least she didn’t see any black crows lingering around his head.

“So…you and your husband are here for vacation?”

Tamara noticed the way he paused over husband. “Si.” She pulled her phone out and did a quick google search of car rentals. If she was going to spend any amount of time here, even if she only had a few weeks or months left on Earth, she’d be damned if she got stuck in a car with creepy Carl again. Google maps showed the nearest car rental was within walking distance of the market she was having Carl drop her at. A few taps of her fingers and she’d secured a small convertible for the duration of her stay. Technology really was a wonderful thing.

She didn’t think anyone would be searching for her, although that was the reason she’d run the first time. A silly notion to be sure, since they were all not human and they could probably track her with only a thought, or less.

“It is rude to ignore your host when they are speaking to you,” Carl snarled.

She turned in her seat to see they had in fact left the highway, and were parked at a lookout used for sightseeing. “I’m sorry, I was sort of lost in my own thoughts. Um, why are we stopped here?” Tamara stammered, but kept thinking she could calm the crazy. Her heart was racing like mad.

Carl reached across the space separating them and put his hand on her thigh. She flinched at the heat from his palm. “I think you are very beautiful, Tamara.”

Do not feed the crazy. Do not feed the crazy
. She patted his hand like she would a child. “While I appreciate the compliment, Carl, it’s very inappropriate. I’m a married woman. My husband wouldn’t be happy to find out that you were making advances on me.” She tried to lift his hand off her leg.

His fingers tightened, his features on his already ugly face twisted into something evil. “Don’t lie to me. You have no husband.” Spittle flew from his mouth, hitting Tamara on her cheek his face was close to hers.

Time for niceties was up. Humans had a fight or flight response, and Tamara chose to do both. Her right hand had crept into her bag, fingers closing around the can of mace. As his face came closer, he was within kissing range, something Tamara wanted to avoid at all costs. She pulled the can out and sprayed him at point-blank range. She turned her own face away, knowing the offending stuff would have enough potency at such close proximity to cause her injury too.

Carl cursed and fell back into his own seat. She reached over and pulled the keys from the vehicle before jerking the handle up and hurrying from the cab.

Tamara didn’t stop running until she hit the highway. The place that Carl had chosen was relatively close, but far enough away he could’ve done anything he wanted to her. She pulled her phone out and dialed 9-1-1, explained to the operator what had happened, and told them she didn’t feel safe waiting, in case he came looking for her.

Several cars drove past her without stopping, not that she would’ve accepted a ride, but still it would’ve been nice. The sound of a motorcycle with really loud pipes, one she was sure hundreds of thousands of people had, seemed to be getting closer.

At some point her hair had fallen out of the messy bun from the top of her head. She hoped the bike passed her by, like all the other drivers had.

Again, luck wasn’t on her side. The loud engine throttled down the closer it got to her, making Tamara’s skin tingle, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Maybe if she kept walking the rider would get the hint and take off?

The engine cut off.

Tamara kept walking along the side of the coastal highway. Her feet were beginning to hurt in her sensible shoes that weren’t meant for walking, or running from a creeper. The sound of gravel crunching under two-hundred-plus pounds of man in shitkickers echoed behind her. She was surprised it had taken him so long to find her. Rafe.

For now, she’d go on the offensive. She spun to face him. “Why are you following me?”

If he was shocked at her temper he didn’t show it. “Why are you walking on an almost deserted highway,
omorfia mou
?”

Tamara wrapped her arms around her waist. Reaction was beginning to settle in. She was beginning to shake so damn hard, she was worried her teeth were going to start chattering. The attack in the cab brought back the memory of the alley when she was a helpless teen.

* * * *

Rafe sensed the torment in Tamara, the tears she fought to hold inside, the burning ache she’d buried so many years ago, a ball of pain that somehow had resurfaced today. Her walls were thick, but whatever had happened, he found a small crack and took advantage to slip inside. The images he found made him angrier than he’d ever been. He memorized each and every face of the men from ten years ago to the man today.

For now the only thing he could do was offer her the warmth and shelter of him. He held his arms out, expecting her to reject him, hoping she wouldn’t.

As he waited, he realized just how much he needed her to trust him. How much he would regret for the rest of his long life if she rejected him. Rafe wasn’t one to dwell on things that he couldn’t change or control. He’d always been the one that found a way around an immovable object, or if not around, then through it.

It would be the hardest thing he’d ever do to turn his back on Tamara, but if she rejected him, he would do it. He’d make sure she was safe and always protected. Just not by him.

The nightmares clouding her mind were something he couldn’t change, but he could make damn sure she never faced another one alone.

Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, Tamara stepped into his arms. Rafe did what he’d dreamt of for months. He held the woman who owned his heart. His black heart.

Her hair smelled like sunshine and fruit.

He tucked her body into his, her head barely reaching his chin. She shook so hard he felt goose bumps up and down her arms. “Here.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, not giving her a chance to accept or reject. Her sigh was music to his ears. He brought her into his frame again, widened his stance, and rocked her back and forth a little in a soothing motion.

He’d read in her mind that she’d called the cops, but he wanted to handle Carl on his own terms. Before he could manipulate things, the unmistakable sound of sirens broke into the sweetest moment of his life. Tamara pushed at shoulders, trying to put space between them.

“Hey, let me be here for you. Okay?” He put a bit of force behind his words. Not compulsion, he’d never want her that way, just a hint of authority. For all Tamara’s bluster, he had a feeling she had a submissive side a mile wide.

She nodded.

Rafe hated the red tape that came with police and their bullshit. When Tamara gave the description of the man named Carl and the cab company, they wrote it all down, nodded, and made all the appropriate noises. When another cruiser went to the location where Tamara had last seen the man, he was long gone. After checking with the cab company, they had informed the police they didn’t have a cab driver named Carl.

At that point, his little firecracker was ready to claw the eyes out of the police officer, who asked if she was sure she wasn’t just making up the story to
make her boyfriend jealous.
Rafe still laughed at the mix of Cajun and Spanish that flew from her gorgeous lips. He and Vin were in for a fun ride. He opened his mind to link with his best friend.

“
Yo, Vin. Where you at?”
Rafe blinked at the lady police officer who chose that moment to look him up and down.

“Just dropped a drunken priest off at his parish with a healthy donation. You?”

Rafe was good at multitasking, but even he didn’t want to fend off a cop and hold a conversation with his best friend. “You need to go back to the station. Lots of paperwork to be done.” He pushed the compulsion into her without any remorse.