He wanted her.
Ignoring the sudden pounding of her heart, Hudson wrenched her eyes away and gulped down some more beer. She felt flushed, her hair like a heavy curtain smothering her shoulders and back, but she didn’t dare pin it up. Even though the tattoo at the base of her neck was buried under layers of makeup, she still wasn’t taking any chances. If anyone so much as suspected who she was, she’d be killed in a heartbeat.
A high-pitched giggle sounded from the other end of the room, and Hudson turned to see a woman with blond hair and double D’s emerge from a dark corridor, flanked by a tall man with piercing blue eyes and a killer grin. He had the arrogant swagger of a guy who’d just gotten laid, and his companion’s bee-stung lips and tousled hair confirmed it. The man gave the woman’s ass a playful spank, then sauntered over to the table Hudson had been observing.
Surprise, surprise. Sexy blond guy was with the sexy foursome.
As he sat, his gaze collided with hers, and a faint smile lifted the corner of his mouth. It faded when the dark-haired outlaw she’d been trying not to ogle muttered something that silenced the group.
Hudson sighed. Now definitely wasn’t the time to get all hot for a sinfully sexy stranger. She had more pressing matters to deal with, so many of them her head was starting to spin.
Find a place where she could lie low for a while. Scavenge some supplies. Figure out how to get the hell out of West Colony. Evade Dominik, who’d no doubt sent an army after her.
Maybe the folks who ran this place would help her find a safe haven —
“Down on the floor, assholes!”
She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t sensed the danger until it was too late. She didn’t have time to unsheathe the knife on her hip, because cold fingers grabbed her arm and yanked her to the dirty cement floor.
“Stay down, bitch!”
There was a blur of movement, loud expletives, and angry shouts as a dozen men stormed the bar and advanced on its patrons.
Bandits.
Shit.
The man who’d thrown her down had neglected to search her for weapons, so she still had possession of her knife, along with the rest of the sharp steel blades strapped to her body. She gripped the bone handle and slowly slid the hunting knife down to her side, lifting her head to assess the situation. She’d heard of bandits, but this was her first encounter with them.
They looked a lot like the homeless people she’d seen in her father’s photographs of prewar Los Angeles. Threadbare clothing, dirty, reeking of booze. The Enforcers didn’t differentiate between bandits and outlaws, but Hudson needed only two seconds to recognize the difference. Outlaws fought for freedom, and sure, they raided GC supply compounds when it was needed, but they were fighting against a government they opposed, not with one another.
These men were scavengers. Broken, desperate vultures that didn’t belong, not in GC society and not among the rebels. She’d heard that bandits had no consciences, no remorse about robbing and killing and raping anything in their paths.
Her heartbeat accelerated as she stayed flat on the floor while the bandits manhandled the patrons in the smoky room, kicking anyone who so much as yelped. The leader of the band, a man with dark hair and a bushy overgrown beard, hopped the counter, assault rifle in hand.
“We want all the booze,” he snapped at the bartender.
Hudson slithered under the table. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that the five outlaws had remained seated and were watching events unfold with bored expressions on their respective handsome faces.
“Get down on the ground!” shouted one of the bandits. He was a short, skinny man with a shaved head, his unimposing physique made deadly only by the gun he waved at the group.
“No, thanks,” the outlaw with black hair and an even blacker scowl replied.
“You wanna die? Is that it?” The bandit cocked his pistol. “Because I’m perfectly happy to —”
The five men sprang into action. One second the table was upright; the next it was whipped on its side with two of them diving behind it for cover. Hudson saw a blur of arms and legs, flashes of steel and silver.
An outraged moan cut the air as the skinny bandit suddenly found a knife lodged in his upper arm. He staggered forward while his fellow robbers launched themselves at the men, their quest for alcohol forgotten.
It was a bloodbath. A gunshot boomed, sending one of the bandits crashing to the floor two feet from her head. More shots echoed in the room, making her ears ring.