She’d never seen two more terrifying men in all her life.
A whimper clawed its way up her throat, but she couldn’t turn and run no matter how much she wanted to. Instinct told her not to give these predators her back. The flickering lantern light made them look like monsters.
“Take another step closer to her, and I’ll kill you,” Gentry said blandly from where he stood in the doorway. His voice threatened violence, and for a moment, she thought he would kill them. He stood stone-like against the blue moonlight, every muscle in his body rigid as he chugged frozen breath. His eyes were reflecting oddly, like an animal’s, and a sudden trill of fear zinged up her spine.
Gentry wasn’t human.
She dragged her gaze to the others, both staring at her with matching hungry expressions.
They didn’t just look like monsters.
They were monsters.
“Blaire?” the tall silver-eyed one asked in a snarling voice.
Blood was dripping from his hand to the floor in a puddle, but he didn’t favor any of his injuries, and they were many.
“H-how do you know my name?”
The man snarled up his lips over bright white teeth and gave Gentry a hate-filled glare. “You know what she is. That’s not a question, Favorite. I know you can fuckin’ smell her.”
“Yeah, she also smells like sex, and you,” the bearded man crouched on the bar top said to Gentry. “Are you fucking humans—”
“Roman, stop!” the tall one barked out, cutting him off.
Humans. He’d been about to ask Gentry if he was fucking humans now. Blaire backed toward the wall slowly.
Movements slow and calculated, Gentry maneuvered himself gracefully between Blaire and the others, his back to her, and now she could hear it clearly—that snarl in his throat. She’d thought it was habit, and he’d been quiet about it, but now it sounded like an animal. It sounded like a wolf.
Tears blurred her vision as her back hit the wall. She’d never been more terrified in her life.
“Blaire, no one will hurt you.” Gentry tossed her a glance over his shoulder. “You have to settle down or you’ll set them off.”
“No one will hurt her?” Roman asked, jumping off the counter and barely making a sound as he landed. “What you’re doing is punishable by death, Gentry. Yours and hers.”
“Roman,” the other man warned.
“Fuck off, Asher.” Roman cast him a glare and dragged his attention back to Blaire before Gentry cut off her line of sight with his wide shoulders. “No wonder you were a favorite, Gentry. No wonder! Dad saw you in him, right? Human fucker? He was doing it and saw the same weakness in his favorite boy. Made him love you even more. Made me and Asher invisible because we weren’t weak like you!” Roman yelled the last three words, and Blaire jumped hard. “This will get you killed. It’ll get her killed. It’ll get me and Asher killed. This ain’t your town anymore! It’s Rhett’s, and he will use this as an excuse to end the Striker line. And why the fuck is Winter’s Edge trashed?”
“I don’t know, Roman! Back the fuck off!”
“You were supposed to be running this place, right? Destiny and all. Instead, Dad died alone, unprotected, and his legacy is trashed, and what are you doing?” Roman jammed a finger at Blaire and raised his eyebrows at Gentry.
One last step was all Gentry allowed before he blurred to the man and blasted him across the face. But Roman was ready and hooked his arm around the back of Gentry’s neck, taking them both to the ground. And there they went to work pummeling each other.
“Gentry!” Blaire screamed as he slammed the man against the hardwood floor.
Asher was searching the thrashed liquor cabinet like there wasn’t this awful frenzied fight happening in the middle of the bar.
“Do something!” she pleaded with Asher as Gentry lifted Roman into the air and slammed him onto a table, shattering it to splinters.
Asher tossed her a slit-eyed glare as though offended she’d even talk to him and went back to searching cabinets. He found a bottle of what looked like Jim Beam and took a long drag, tossed the cap onto the counter, and then walked out the way he came without a second glance for the two clashing titans.
Fury blasted through her. Enough was enough, and everyone had bled all over the brand new clean floors. She’d been lied to, and she was pissed! Adrenaline pumping through her, she screeched at Roman, who was straddling Gentry, pounding his face. Dicks everywhere. Dicks and blood and bruises and scars and tattoos, and these men were freaking ridiculous. Blaire picked up a ladder back chair, and before she could stop herself, she swung it like a bat and shattered the old wooden seat across Roman’s back.