Hit List(65)

“Anita, it’s Bernardo Spotted-Horse.”

That stopped me for a second. The last time I’d seen Bernardo had been in Las Vegas when he, Edward, and another marshal were after a preternatural serial killer. He was using his real and only name as a marshal, but before he got a badge he’d worked with Edward as a mercenary, bounty hunter, and assassin.

I unlocked the door, gun at my side, and opened the door. The towel chose that moment to begin to slip off me, so I was grabbing for it as the door swung inward.

“Now this is the way for a woman to open the door,” Bernardo said.

I glared up at him. I had the towel hugged to my breasts, and no nipple was showing, but way more flesh than I’d planned was on display.

He grinned down at me. With the wraparound sunglasses still on he looked model perfect, if you were into tall, dark, and handsome. I’d once thought he was American Indian GQ gorgeous, but the attitude was way more Playgirl. His nearly waist-length hair spilled around his shoulders, a black so dark that it had blue highlights in the sunshine that slanted across the cement upper story. His wide-shouldered upper body was encased in a black leather jacket that fit like a second skin and emphasized the black jeans that damn near outlined his lower body and ended in midcalf boots.

“I was in the shower,” I said.

“I can see that.” The grin was not his usual come-hither smile, it was just pure delight.

“Oh, stop it,” I said, “and give me a second to refasten the towel.”

“Tease,” he said.

I frowned at him and ducked behind the partially open door to secure the towel again. When it was as secure as I could make it, I opened the door and ushered him inside. “You were wearing nothing but a sheet the first time I saw you,” I said.

He entered the room close to the wall, eyes searching the room as he took his sunglasses off. His eyes were as pure a brown as my own. He nodded. “I’d have come across the moment I met you, so it wasn’t false advertising on my part. But unless you’ve changed a great deal you aren’t going to offer me that much hospitality.” His eyes were searching the room, taking in the details. Ethan had stripped the far bed down to its mattress. He must have done it while I was in the bathroom, but he’d been right to do it, unless we wanted to owe the motel a new mattress.

I knew that Bernardo had taken in the stripped bed, the pile of bedding. Hell, sometimes you can smell sex in a room if it’s recent enough. He looked at me, face softening to something more serious. “I saw a shadow a lot taller than you through the drapes. Why are you hiding him?”

“I thought it was one of the local marshals,” I said.

“You’re a big girl, why hide?” he asked. He gave me a very direct look. When we’d first met years ago he’d played the handsome flirt and hidden that there was a good mind to go with the great body. Smart is way more dangerous than cute when you’re hiding things.

I called out, “Ethan, it’s all right, you can come out.” I made sure to watch Bernardo’s face. His eyes widened, just a bit. He made one of those, well, faces, as in, Well, I didn’t expect that. He tried to cover that I had shocked him, or at least surprised him, by sliding the earpiece of his sunglasses into a pocket on his chest. He busied himself unzipping his jacket.

I glanced behind me to find that Ethan had stopped about halfway across the small room. The sunlight streaming through the big window was barely filtered by the thin curtains; no wonder Bernardo had seen a shadow from outside. But now Ethan was half revealed in that bright filtered light, and half in the room’s dimness, as if he stood in the midst of trees and sunlight streaming through leaves. It was almost as if even standing in the bland motel room, an echo of jungle and wildness touched that shining yellow and gold fur. He was also at least six-six, maybe six-eight in this form. Bernardo was six-one and used to being tall. He had his left hand sort of half behind the swell of his ass, and I knew that the short, stylish jacket was short for a reason. He was carrying his main gun at the small of his back. In a short jacket he could be warm and still do a quick draw. Winter concealed carry was always a fight between staying warm and not getting yourself killed because you couldn’t get to your weapons in time.

“Ease down, Bernardo, he’s okay.” I held my hand out to Ethan.

He shook his head. “He’s armed, and he’s scared of me. I’ll stay farther away.”

I glared at Bernardo. “Stand down, Bernardo. He’s my”—what word should I use?—“lover. It’s okay.”

“Edward said that you were with a local weretiger. He said you were feeding the ardeur.”