Blood of Eve (Trilogy of Eve 2)

I felt the occasional internal vibrations of aphids, but they quickly snuffed out, which meant Link’s men were definitely in the area, keeping it clear of inhuman threats.

“Still den’ like this plan.” Roark narrowed his eyes on our self-proclaimed leader across the street.

My pulse sprinted. I didn’t know about a plan. “What plan?”

Link held his hands up as three youngish men stepped out of the crumbling building. Tension strained their filthy faces, their fingers tightly gripping knives and sledgehammers, their postures twitchy with distrust.

Facing the man in front—a lanky blond with a pistol aimed in two hands—Link kept his arms in the air as he talked, holding their attention.

I couldn’t hear a damned word he said. “What’s the plan?”

Jesse shushed me, his thumb stroking over my hand as he watched the confrontation.

Something wasn’t right. The creases spreading from the corners of Jesse’s eyes, the bob in his throat, and the way he caressed my fingers, it was all so…regretful. But why? We were relatively safe in the van. The keys dangled from the ignition. If Ballsy McBaldy’s little meet-and-greet ended with a bullet in his head, we could get the fuck out of Dodge before those weapons turned on us.

Link continued to run his mouth, one hand rubbing his head, the other gesturing as he talked. Whatever he was telling them made them widen their eyes and shake their heads.

Nodding, Link turned and pointed to the van.

My breath caught. “Somebody better tell me what’s going on.”

Jesse reached back and grabbed Darwin’s collar, his eyes on Roark. “That’s your cue.”

“Load of fecking rubbish,” Roark grumbled.

“Cue for what?” I spun to face Roark. “What’s he talking about?”

Roark slid around me and swung open the side door. Wordlessly, he grabbed me around the waist, threw me over his shoulder, exiting the van and striding toward the front bumper.

To do what? To carry me toward those men? What the hell?

“My bow!” I stretched for the van, but the door was already shutting on the worried eyes of Jesse and Darwin.

Roark restrained my thighs against his chest, circled the front of the vehicle, and crossed the street, whispering sternly in my ear. “Den’ ye touch the blades under those sleeves.”

Seriously? Whatever the plan was, it was too late to demand answers. Didn’t stop me from giving him a solid toe kick in the thigh.

“Oomph.” He lowered his grip on my legs and smacked my ass so hard I bit my tongue.

Bastard! I dug my nails into the back of his coat, frustrated I couldn’t get to his skin. “You’re going to pay for that, goddammit. Put me down.”

I attempted to jerk myself free as he closed the distance and stopped beside Link.

“See?” Link gripped the back of my thigh. “Told you I found a woman. Tight fucking cunt, too. Like I said, we’ll let each of you have ten minutes with her. We just need something to eat.”

The blood drained from my face, even though I knew Jesse and Roark would never allow those men to touch me. This was the plan? Tempt them with an unwilling woman and see how they responded?

I tried to scan the street for snipers, but hanging upside down with my pulse in my throat, I couldn’t see anything but broken asphalt and the back of Roark’s coat.

“How?” asked one of the men in hushed disbelief. “Women didn’t survive.”

Roark dropped me to my feet, spinning me to face three pale faces. His hand gripped my jaw roughly, and his fingers went for the zipper of my jacket, dragging it down and pulling it open. Then he reached for the hem of my shirt.

“Don’t do this.” I clutched the muscles in his forearms, shoving with wasted effort.

He yanked my shirt up and over my breasts.

“No!” My wretched shout cracked in the cool air. “No, dammit. Let go!”

My nipples pebbled in the crisp breeze as I tried to pull the shirt back down, twisting and bucking in Roark’s hold. One arm wrapped like a steel bar around my waist. The other hooked around my throat in a strangle hold.

I really needed to escape the arm beneath my chin, but it was a solid weight of iron and determination. He wasn’t cutting my air, hardly using any strength at all, and here I was, engaging every muscle in my body and burning my way to exhaustion.

Where was Jesse? Why was he allowing this? He and Roark were supposed to be my protectors, yet I felt anything but protected right now.

Link captured my hands, shackling them between my back and the immovable wall of Roark’s abs. My lungs wheezed, and my chest crushed beneath the shock of utter panic.

Roark kept his arm against my throat, his huge body stopping my backward retreat. As if manhandling me into submission and baring my scarred chest to Link and strangers wasn’t enough, he shoved his fingers down the front of my pants.