Dark Lies: Chapter 12

Savannah

The next morning, I woke in Jaxson’s bed with a groan. My body felt like I’d thrown myself from the back of a van at sixty miles an hour.

Shocking.

On the upside, werewolf healing was amazing. A quick check revealed that my broken arm and almost all my lacerations had healed, and only faint scars remained. But that didn’t mean every single part of me didn’t scream bloody murder every time I moved.

I rolled over in the sheets, which smelled intoxicatingly like Jaxson, and searched the bed and pillows for my phone, but I couldn’t find it. Rousting myself with a groan, I slipped into Sam’s spare clothes and checked the bathroom. It wasn’t there, so I stumbled to the kitchen.

There was a tall glass of carrot juice and a pile of painkillers on the black counter waiting for me. I popped them in my mouth and washed them down with the juice. It tingled and danced across my tastebuds, and I looked at the glass with surprise.

Sam stomped around the corner in tall black boots and a sexy leather jacket. “You’re awake!”

“Apparently,” I grumbled. “I assumed that this stuff was for me, but maybe I shouldn’t have. What’s in it?”

“Just a little drop of an elixir Alia whips up for us from time to time. After last night, I figured you’d need it. Also, you need lunch. It’s not going to feel great on an empty belly.”

“Lunch?”

She checked her phone. “Yeah. It’s two p.m.”

“Holy shit.” I hadn’t woken once. There was something soothing about sleeping in Jaxson’s bed, surrounded by his scent, even if he wasn’t in it.

If he’d been in it, you wouldn’t have gotten much sleep, thus defeating the purpose, Wolfie observed.

Yeah. Probably. But as much as my libido was into Jaxson, I wasn’t into domineering, over-possessive, thoughtless alpha types.

Sure, you’re not.

I looked around. “Seen my phone?”

Busy in the middle of a text, Sam nodded absently to the table by the couch. “Jax got you a new one. It’s all set up.”

My eyes widened as I approached the end table. A brand-new iPhone sat atop its rectangular white box. The thing had to be worth over a grand, while my old one had been a bottom-shelf brick from Walmart that barely ran Google Maps.

With delight and trepidation vying for control of my nerves, I picked it up and turned it over. “Let me guess—no strings attached.”

She laughed. “Plenty of strings. You’re going to spend a lot of time on call for bar duty. The customers really like you.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t know about that plan. Some of those customers tried to take me home last night.”

Sam tucked her phone in her back pocket. “That’s why we’re going to pay them a visit. So grab something out of the fridge. Jaxson is on his way and will meet us downstairs in thirty.”

“Where are we headed?”

“Jax got a lead on the Arrowhead Disciples, so the three of us are going to shake down a biker bar.”

My fingers itched as images of the night before flashed into my mind: the greasy bastard who grabbed me at the bar, the asshole decking me in the face, the pricks who forced me down and bound my hands and feet.

I couldn’t hold back my claws, which ripped out of my fingertips. “Let’s go. I’m ready now.”

Sam laughed. “Not looking like that, you aren’t. We’re taking bikes.” She pointed to a stack of clothes on the couch. “I picked out an appropriate outfit for you this morning. Jaxson’s expense, so I got real nice stuff.”

Ten minutes and a Naked smoothie later, I was admiring myself in the mirror: killer jeans, T-shirt, and a hot-as-shit leather vest with straps and buckles, topped with a pair of designer shades.

Biker-chick chic.

But the best part of the outfit was something Jaxson had already bought for me: my Swiftley speed boots from The Cordswainer’s Curiosities. Kicking ass and chasing down bad guys was the job they were made for.

The part that I wasn’t certain about was my hair. Sam had quickly dyed it with a potion, turning it dark brown with a few faint red highlights. She figured that since the bikers were looking for a redhead, we shouldn’t tip them off immediately.

It was going to take some getting used to, but at least it would wash right out. I pulled it to the side and wondered what Jaxson would think. Not that it mattered.

Turning, I checked out my frankly amazing backside. “You really know my size, Sam.”

She laughed. “Duh. I’m like your personal wardrobe assistant at this point.”

True. She was as tough as nails but patient and generous with me, despite my early attempts to push her away. I gave her a warm smile. “Owe you big time.”

She shoved her hands in her back pockets and kicked out her hip. “Yeah, well, that’s true. You can start paying me back by ripping those assholes a new one.”

I flexed my claws as my wolf leapt against my chest. “Try to stop me.”

Sam shot me a devilish grin and headed to the door. “The good news is you’re going to look unbelievably hot doing it.”

I retracted my claws and texted Casey as we took the elevator to the parking deck. He’d sent me a dozen alternately worried, angry, and mildly inappropriate texts.

Sorry. Worked late at the bar. Crashed with Sam. Jaxson and I did none of the things you’re insinuating, so get your mind out of the gutter.

Not that some of his suggestions weren’t mentally stimulating.

When I didn’t pick up his subsequent call, he immediately hit me with a barrage of texts like a mother hen, so I had to put him on mute as we stepped out of the elevator.

Jaxson was waiting by a pair of Harleys in the parking deck. He tensed the moment he laid eyes on me, and his jaw dropped. “Your hair…”

I tossed it defiantly. “Sam dyed it—technically a temporary glamor—but it seemed prudent since they’re on the hunt for a redhead. Her idea.”

“Smart,” he muttered absently as his eyes traced every curve and assessed every buckle. He was taking a long time, and it was obvious his mind wasn’t on my words. I could feel his approval, a heady scent of desire and praise. Heat rushed into me, and part of me wanted him to be inspecting me with more than just his gaze.

“Up here, Laurent,” I sniped, pointing to my eyes.

He jerked his head.

Jaxson was fucking hot himself, and to my embarrassment, I actually licked my lips. I couldn’t help it. His muscles looked like they were going to rip his leather jacket apart at the seams.

Sam cleared her throat. “Savy’s pretty as a biker chick, huh?”

Jaxson growled in irritation. “Are you two ready?”

I crossed my arms and cocked my head. “We’re all dressed up. What’s the plan?”

“I was able to track down some information on the Arrowhead MC. They’re a werewolf motorcycle club known for running drugs and potions, but not magical weapons, so that’s a plus. We found a bar where a few of their members hang out in Indiana, though it’s not their main club. Just a place one or two guys frequent—which is exactly what we want.”

“So we’re going to tap one of them on the shoulder, and they’re just going to answer our questions?” I asked.

He shook his head. “We go in and wait for a chance to get one of their members alone. They’re werewolves, and though they’re not our pack, I’m an alpha. I can make them talk.”

“Something tells me they won’t go quietly,” Sam muttered.

“I can keep them in line,” Jaxson muttered.

Sam cocked her head to the side. “And who’s going to keep you in line? You think you’re going to play nice and forget what their gang did? The last time you saw someone touch Savannah, you smashed their face in.”

Darkness flushed his cheeks as his eyes turned a deep gold. I could see the first signs of a shift. “Then nobody better touch her.”

His voice was ice, and the implication hung in the air, chilling the whole parking deck. He’d kill anyone who even thought about touching me. I could smell the undercurrent of rage, but there was something more. A scent, a look, that was utterly feral. Lupine.

He’s alpha. They abducted his mate from his den, my wolf whispered in my mind.

My eyes flicked across the man, and suddenly, I saw him in a very different light. He was calm but operating with a razor-thin edge of control. He wasn’t just ready to kill any biker who touched me. He was ready to gut the whole MC, if given an excuse.

Trembling beneath his steely gaze, I stepped up and laid my fingers gently on his arm. His skin immediately responded to my touch. The tension in his muscles drained, and just like that, he was back to normal, his iron control restored.

I shuddered. Possessiveness was one thing, but what Jaxson had was off the charts. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the consequences of him thinking of me as his mate.

Or of being his mate.

He looked down at me, his voice low and gravelly, dragging over my nerve endings. “Are you ready to get answers?”

His words refocused my thoughts, and an angry rush of heat seared my neck. “Yes.”

“Then let’s ride.”

I glanced at the pair of shining chrome and black Harleys behind him. “There’s only two bikes. Does that mean—”

Jaxson swung his leg over the Harley and nodded. “You ride pillion with me.”

Of course.

“Sucker.” Sam laughed and winked as she mounted up on the second bike.

“Hey!” I exclaimed.

“Have you ridden two up before?” Jax asked as he pulled on a black helmet.

He knew I hated being a passenger. Sometimes, he could be absolutely infuriating. In this case, he was also correct. “No. I’ve never ridden a motorcycle.”

He chucked me a heavy blue helmet, and I grabbed it instinctively when it hit my gut. He patted the seat. “It’s simple. Just sit behind me and don’t make any sudden movements. Lean with the bike, and don’t try to compensate. It’s just like a dance—follow my lead.”

I flexed my fingers, put on my helmet, and popped the visor up. “Fine. Let’s go dancing.”

Jax took a moment to explain how to mount up, and I got on. Steadying myself with a hand on his shoulder, I put my right foot on one of the pegs, then swung my other leg up and over.

He looked back. “Sit up, but hold low around my waist, and don’t grab my arms or shoulders.”

I put my visor down and slowly slipped my arms around him in a soft embrace. I could feel his strength beneath my touch, grounding me. Even through the leather jackets, currents passed between us like prickling static on a cold winter’s day.

I took a deep breath. “Okay. If we’re going to do this, let’s get out of here.”

The motorcycles roared to life, and we rumbled out of the parking garage and down the road.