Owen turned back toward the front of the bar. He’d have to deal with this alone.
Watching Gideon Black did not help his mood. When the were halted his forward progress, paused and swung his head to the left, Owen’s mood got worse.
Despite his confidence in the plan when he’d explained it to Remy, Owen was not cool with what he was doing on a lot of levels, which made it just as well that his friend had deserted him.
Gideon Black stared at Tasha McNeil.
But Tasha was staring past the big alpha, her gaze lasered on Owen. Pain streaked from his gut up the back of his neck.
Shit, but he needed a run. As fast and as far from this moment as possible. Maybe run so fast and so far he’d escape this life for another.
The pink cocktail Tasha held in one hand began to tremble, and a flush suffused her face. She started to stand, reached out with the drink to place it on the ridiculously small table. About three-quarters of the glass base landed on the flat surface, tottered and crashed to the floor in a spray of fine glass. Surprisingly, the sound seemed loud to Owen, as if he’d filtered the boom and thump of the dance music and cued only on Tasha and Gideon.
Tasha jumped back from the spill. The redhead seated next to Tasha threw her head back in an exaggerated laugh and tried to stand at the same time, but managed to fall from her chair, landing in the pink puddle with her skirt hiked up on her thighs while she laughed and laughed.
Immediately, Tasha crouched to help the redhead, but Gideon moved faster. He was like a dark wave. One minute across the bar from the women and the next, smoothly assisting the redhead to her feet. Once she was settled, he turned to Tasha, took her hand in his giant paw and raised it to his mouth, pressed his lips to her wrist.
Pain arced through Owen. He bent double, his head grazing his knees, his vision swimming as the dark lager he’d consumed rose in his throat.
He forced himself upright in time to see Tasha’s gaze target Gideon, her eyes widen, her mouth round in a perfect pink O. The mark Owen had placed on her wrist blazed like a neon red beacon on a stormy coast in his were vision.
He strode forward, the filament of connection drawing him to her defense in what was, essentially, a rush to suicide. Only a were bent on certain death charged any alpha, let alone the leader of a pack other than his own. Some rational part of his brain yammered this eminently sensible argument against suicide all the while his thighs flexed and released, closing the distance with Gideon and Tasha.
The slam of a hard hand on his shoulder halted him. He stood there, swaying slightly. Slowly, his senses opened up, the beats of the music returning along with the rumble of conversation.
Remy’s voice cut through the noise. “—what you wanted, right? I thought this was your plan? Let Gideon take Tasha to save her from Lan’s retribution. Unless you’ve come up with something else, it’s too late to back out now. We’ve got to see this through.”
Owen looked at Remy. “Where were you just now?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
He gestured at Gideon and Tasha. “How did he know?”
Remy frowned and shook his head.
“About her,” Owen said. “Tasha. I never said anything to Gideon about her. We only talked about me submitting to him. That’s it. Nothing else.”
“Who knows?” Remy said. “This is Lost Legacy territory. Gideon wouldn’t walk in here blind, so he probably did some research.”
Owen took a step closer to Gideon and Tasha. The pressure of Remy’s hand on his arm tightened into a vice. “Let it go. She doesn’t matter, man. You made the deal. He’s come to collect. Only thing left to do is see it through the best we can.”
Pure comforting rage swirled through Owen. “We? What’s this we?” he snarled. “Since when are you going over to the dark side with me?”
Remy spread his palms wide. “Whatever you want. However you want it to go down. It’s your deal. I’m only here to help.”#p#分页标题#e#
In some dim part of his brain, Owen knew he was acting like an asshole, but the part that was driving him didn’t give a shit. No way could a cold-blooded lyr know his pain. What had he been thinking to allow a beast like Gideon Black take Tasha?
His Tasha.
He could smell her from here, would have been able to detect her unique signature from a throng of women on a crowded city street. He remembered the silk of her skin against his fingertips, her bright hair splayed against the white pillowcase, the wet heat of her that was for him and him alone.
Not fucking Gideon Black.
Owen surged forward.
Nine by Night: A Multi-Author Urban Fantasy Bundle of Kickass Heroines, Adventure, Magic