Chapter One
The Silver Wolf was not the kind of establishment you go to for a drink. It was the kind of hole you crawled in to die.
That didn’t explain why my target had been sitting at the beat-up bar for the past three hours. I smoothed my features for the thousandth time as I sat in a booth peering at him. I needed my target to leave this hell hole so I could capture him properly. There were rules about who I could arrest, and where. And this guy wasn’t... officially on my docket. This was personal.
Until then... I stared down at my cherry red nails. Throwing a few punches would screw up my fresh manicure. Rule number one of bounty hunting for bad ass females: never let the target fuck with your self-care.
The stale beer I’d been nursing for an hour definitely wasn’t adding anything to the care column, though.
My target shifted on his bar stool and I tensed, ready to bounce up and go after him. But he merely waved for another drink and I sank back with a sigh. Five beers in... At least he would be too sloshed to run away when the time came to grab him. His inky black hair flopped over his forehead and eyes. It looked like he needed a wash. His nails were as grime-crusted as The Silver Wolf’s linoleum.
The asshole better not puke on me when I snatch him.
The bartender, a heavy, bearded man, skirted my table and glared at me. It might have been time to order another beer or I risk being kicked out. Or drop a bigger tip. That might buy me some more surveillance time.
I slapped a ten on the table and narrowed my eyes at him. He sauntered back behind the bar to leave me in peace.
The door slammed open, and a posse of frat boys swarmed in. The scent of stale liquor and body spray assaulted me as they sidled up to the bar top. Damn, I thought guys had learned to stop wearing that shit years ago. Even my nose hairs burned from the smell.
I watched my target from under the cover of my black hoodie, but even the lumpy sweatshirt didn’t stop a couple of the college dickheads from sliding toward my table. Being the only chick in the place, I should have seen it coming.
“Not interested,” I said, pitching my voice low.
I tucked my chin and tried to keep my face out of sight. At thirty years old, I was a little out of their age range, but my blonde hair might be enough for their needs. At least they would like to think so.
One of the guys leaned over the tabletop, pressing into the grimy surface. “Aw, come on, baby, don’t play with me.”
I rolled my eyes. Play with you? Oh... you’d know if I was playing with you.
I risked a glance up at his face. He looked like a Pete, or maybe a Chip. A little boy who belonged on Daddy’s yacht with his unbuttoned polo and artfully torn jeans.
I sighed. “Go away before you hurt yourself.”
He chuckled and the sound sent a strange shiver along my skin. I would bet a hundred bucks this douchebag knew his way around a date rape drug. I clenched my fist to keep from launching it at his pretty face. The gorgeous ones always ended up being the worst.
Well, that was the story of my dating life, at least.
“Not interested,” I repeated.
He reached over to flick back my hood. I ducked his grabby hands and smashed my beer bottle on the table. The bottle shattered loudly into a thousand pieces.
I grabbed it by the neck and held the edge to his throat. “If you don’t back away very slowly, I’ll cut you into small enough pieces that even Daddy’s money won’t be able to find enough of you to bury.”
A hint of fear flashed in his eyes. He had about a foot of height on me, but almost everyone did. At five-foot-two, there were few people I towered over.
When they thought they could bully me because of being tiny, I always showed them they were wrong.
I pointed to his back up dancers. “Go back to your dorm and hit the liquor store. This place isn’t your scene.”
His friends circled around him and no one in the bar even flinched my way. No backup, not that I expected any in a shit hole like this. I was tempted to pull the twin knives out of my boot sheathes but I’d figured the boys would take off running the minute I brandished a broken bottle at one of them.