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Without Regret

Without Regret (Pyte/Sentinel #2)(63)
Author: R.L. Mathewson

“Ah, Carl?” Jill said, chewing her bottom lip nervously as she shot the bartender a sheepish look.

He sighed heavily, but Logan noted the amusement in the man’s eyes and the twitch of his lips. “Again?”

“Maybe,” she mumbled, looking embarrassed.

Carl folded his arms over his lean chest and glared mockingly down at the small woman. “You know you’re far too trusting, don’t you?”

She returned the glare, but on her it looked cute. “It’s my job to care. Now, do you want me to work off my meal by scrubbing the floors or the dishes?”

“The toilets,” Carl said with a straight face.

Jill pursed her lips up in thought. “In that case I’d have to demand dessert.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Jill,” he said, smiling and causing Logan’s teeth to grind.

“Can we possibly put this on my tab and not tell my father or brother about this?” she asked, sounding very hopeful.

The smile dropped from Carl’s face as he held up his hands and backed a foot away from Jill. “There is no way in hell I’m keeping this from them, Jill. They’d kick my ass up and down the street.”

“But I love you, doesn’t that mean anything?” she asked, pouting adorably.

Since when did he find anything human woman did adorable? Apparently since now, he mused.

Carl shook his head stubbornly. “Not a damn thing when it comes to your family, Jill. Sorry.”

“Rats,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry about paying me. Your brother came in last week after this happened on Tuesday and set you up with a five hundred dollar credit,” Carl explained as he shot a look at his watch. “Speaking of which, do you want me to call Chris or your dad to walk you home?”

“Neither. I’m more than capable of walking myself home,” she said, climbing off the stool and giving Logan a glimpse of slender beautiful pale legs.

“Jill,-“

“Goodnight, Carl,” Jill said, giving the man a small wave as she headed for the door.

“They’re going to kill me,” Carl grumbled, but Logan couldn’t care less about the man’s problems. Not when his meal and entertainment for the night was walking out the front door.

He threw a hundred dollar bill on the bar and made his way to the door. Anticipation of the hunt coursed through his veins, hardening his body as his fangs tingled in his gums. Kale would have to wait for awhile and luckily for him the man was a slow eater. Hopefully by the time he returned Kale would just be sitting down to his meal.

What he wouldn’t give for shifter senses at that moment, he thought as he stepped onto the sidewalk and looked around the dimly lit area. When he didn’t find her among the few humans walking along the street he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he scented blood that was sweet and slightly spicy he knew without a doubt that it was hers.

He followed the scent towards the area of shops that were already closed for the night and frowned. Why the hell was this small woman headed towards an unsafe area? He shoved the concern aside since it worked in his favor.

“It took you long enough,” the soft voice said, surprising the hell out of him, but he didn’t show it as he turned to find the beautiful red head leaning against the white brick wall in the wide alleyway.

“You knew I would follow?” he asked, taking a step towards her. When she didn’t immediately move away he couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes,” she said, giving him what could only be described as a coy smile.

“Then you know what I’m after?” he asked, wondering if she truly did know. Even after all these years it still surprised him that humans were oblivious to the world around them.

“Of course I do,” she said with absolutely no fear or hesitation.

He knew he should question this and worry that it might be some sort of trap, but at the moment nothing else mattered but this woman. Without a second thought he walked into the alleyway and stepped in front of her until her chest almost touched his stomach.

She was very short, he noticed.

“Then tell me what I want,” he said, reaching up to brush his fingertips across her delicate jaw.

“Something that’s off the menu,” she whispered huskily.

“Oh?” he murmured, running the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “What if all I want is a little taste?”

“Then you’ll just have to look elsewhere. In another town.”

“But I like it here,” he said, allowing his fangs to drop and his eyes to shift to silver so that he could see her better. In a matter of seconds the darkness of the night disappeared and he could see everything as clearly as if the sun was out.

“That’s too bad, because you’re going to have to leave,”

she said, reaching up with one hand, almost as if she couldn’t herself and traced his lips with her finger before dropping her hand away with a disappointed little sigh.

“Before I experienced the sweetest thing this town has to offer?” he asked, shaking his head in regret. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Jill.”

Surprise flickered across her features before she hid it.

“You know my name?”

“Yes.”

“What else do you know about me?” she asked, leaning into his touch.

“That you’re beautiful, sweet and tonight you’re all mine,” he said, leaning down to have a taste, of her lips or blood, he wasn’t sure and didn’t care. He wanted this woman more than his next unnecessary breath and nothing was going to stop him.

“Hold up there, big guy,” she said at the same time he felt something hard and sharp press against his balls through his pants.

“Big guy?” he asked, somewhat amused as he pulled back to look down. His brows arched as he took in her small hand holding an equally small, but very sharp dagger between his legs.

“Mmmhmm,” she said unconcerned. “Now, I realize that you’re capable of regenerating a lost limb or a……..,” she let her voice trail off as a rather pretty blush that he found rather endearing. “But, I’ve been told that the silver in this knife was cooled in holy water, polished in holy oil and finished with Sentinel blood,” she explained as dread filled him.

“Now, I’m not really an expert with these things, but according to my brother and father if I removed something,” she said, emphasizing “something” with a slight twist of her hand that had him sweating, “you would never be able to grow it back.”

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