There wasn’t a night that Winchesters wasn’t busy. Tuesday night was no exception, but Val and Angel managed to find an empty table. They sprawled across the booth benches. When the waitress came, they put in their orders for beers. The dance floor was throbbing with the bass of country music and boots on wood floors. Val sent a look around the room.
There was a woman sitting at the bar. He recognized her slim shoulders and narrow waist, not to mention the purple, spiky hair. A man was sitting next to her at the bar. Val couldn’t tell if they were together. He discovered his answer when Ace’s posture changed to create more separation between her and the idiot next to her.
Angel turned to see what Val was watching. “That Ace?”
“Yep.” Val was getting increasingly ticked off that the guy couldn’t take a cue. When he leaned over too closely to Ace, Val caught the quick movement she did with her foot that destabilized the stool he sat on, tossing him to the ground. Ace banged her beer bottle on the bar top then got up and walked out.
And damn if the bastard didn’t follow her.
“I’ll be right back,” Val told Angel.
Angel leaned back in his seat. “You good? ’Cause I think I’ve had enough fighting tonight.” He grinned at Val.
“Yeah, I got it.”
“If you’re not back in five, I’ll come save your ass.”
“Thanks. For nothing.”
Val trailed the guy outside. He was lit up like a beer fountain. He was searching in his pocket for the key to his truck, leaning heavily against his driver’s-side door while he did it. When he fished the keys out, Val swiped them from him.
“What ’er you doing, man? Those are mine.”
“So they are. This your truck?” Val asked.
“Yeah. Gimme ’em. I got to follow that chick.”
“No, you don’t.” Val pushed the guy’s head against the side of his truck.
“Ouch! That hurt!” he complained.
“Whoa. Be careful where you step.”
“I didn’t do that, you did.”
Val unlocked his door and opened it, managing to clip the guy in the nose.
Ace was watching them. “Do you have a crazy need to ride a white horse or something?” she called from a couple of cars over.
Val grinned, thinking that was not what he wanted to ride.
A couple other guys came out of the bar—friends of the drunk who was now holding his face. Val tossed them his keys. “Glad he has friends here. Save him from rounding up a ride home. He’s not too stable on his feet. Don’t let him get behind that wheel.”
“We got him.”
Val walked over to Ace’s beater, watching the guys out of the corner of his eye. They loaded their drunken friend into one of their cars and headed out.
“You think I couldn’t have dealt with that shitpouch by myself?”
“Sure you could have. But what kind of a friend would I be if I saw trouble coming your way and did nothing about it?” He opened her door for her. “You got my number, right?” She nodded. “Call it if you need it.”
He watched her drive off, then went back inside. Angel had just rebuffed a couple of women, if he were to judge from the disappointed looks on their faces as they turned away from the table.
Val slipped into the booth. Coming here hadn’t really improved his mood. It didn’t look like it had done anything for Angel’s either. He nodded toward the women. “Didn’t feel like company?”
“No.”
Val made a circle around his face as he looked at Angel. “Maybe they dig all the bruises.”
Angel shrugged.
“You got a beef with Rocco?”
“No.”
“Hmm. That wasn’t a regular sparring match I interrupted.”
“Drop it, Val.”
Val leaned against the seat back. “Fine. We’ll just sit here and be miserable. Alone.”
Angel nodded toward the girls. “Want me go get them for you?”
Val considered that and laughed. For a long time, it had been him getting the girls for Angel. A pair of lichen-green eyes flashed in his mind. There really was only one girl he wanted right then. And she had an agenda he couldn’t quite figure out…that probably didn’t include him.
“Nah. I’m good with the beer.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kelan stepped into Fiona’s room. They’d spent the whole night together. Though short, it was the most satisfying night of his life. Fiona had come back to her room to shower and dress this morning.
It was too early yet for breakfast, but he wanted to check on her state of mind. She’d left his ankle sheath on his nightstand. If she was at all waffly about staying, he was going to make her wear it.
He leaned on her dresser, waiting for her to come out of her closet. When she did, she was adjusting the two layers of tank tops she wore, one pink, one white. Over both of them, she wore a flower-print sweatshirt that was cut off at her midriff. Her tight blue jeans showed her skinny legs. Peach flip-flops were her sandals.
She lifted her head and looked at him. He could see the shadows were back in her eyes. He sighed, trying to figure out what to do about her persistent belief that her leaving would protect them all.
Like any of them needed an itty-bitty thing like her to stand between them and their enemies.
They could have another round of amazing sex to try and settle the matter…but maybe what she needed most was to hear it from the fighters who would put their lives in danger to retrieve her if she left.
She didn’t say anything, so he broke the silence. “Can we sell the car you bought yesterday?”
Her jaw opened. “You know about that?”
“Yeah, and the bank account you cleaned out.”
“Kelan—”
“If we knew about it, you don’t think our enemies do too? We know they’re watching you.” He went to her door and held it for her. “Let’s take a walk.”
“Where?”
“Down to the bunker. I told you about Blade’s stepdad’s papers that his mom hid away. Maybe it would be a good thing if you helped us record and analyze them.” He looked at her as they entered the foyer downstairs. “That would give you an important way to strike back at your father while we wait for this be over.”
She put her hand in his. “You’d let me do that?”