Bound Guardian Angel Read Free Page A

was she ever going to chase a
bounty six hundred feet underwater? But the watch was boss-ass
matte black, durable, cool as shit, and each was individually
numbered and shipped in its own watertight tactical case. So top
that, Rolex. Anyone who thought she was being a diva over her
choice of timepiece could suck it. She liked what she liked, and
while she wouldn’t be wearing her Predator to any cocktail parties,
it made her feel extra badass in the field when she was tracking a
bounty, a suspicious dreck, or a wayward vampire who’d jumped to
the wrong side of Bain’s law.
    Tonight, she was on the hunt for information
that would help her unravel the truth behind Bishop’s operation.
Someone had to bring that maniacal asshole down and put a stop to
his war-provoking lab experiments on vampires. And since Premier
Royce seemed too preoccupied with staring at his own reflection,
masturbating to the sound of his own voice, or whatever else he did
to turn a blind eye to the destruction a member of his own race was
causing, it looked like stopping Bishop was up to her. After all,
there was only so much her half-brother, King Bain, could do
without risking all-out war.
    In the last several months, she and the
members of AKM had uncovered a shit storm of dreck activity, and it
all pointed back to Bishop. Including this bit of intel about
Grudge Match.
    From what she’d picked up from the thoughts
of the pair of drecks making out in one of the bar’s back booths,
Grudge Match was a secret fight club where vampires and drecks
alike beat the shit out of each other for fun. Not only did this
pose a possible peace treaty violation, but it also gave any drecks
working for Bishop a prime opportunity to scout and kidnap vampires
he could use in his fucked-up experiments.
    If only she had more time. This lead looked
promising, but duty called. She was due to meet Micah in twenty
minutes to sign Trace over to him upon his release, which meant if
she didn’t leave right now, she would be late. Hell, even if she
left this very second, she’d probably be late. She still had to
hoof it back to her Range Rover.
    Trace, otherwise known as the thorn in her
side, was supposed to be released into her custody, but he and
Micah apparently needed to flog each other’s logs or some shit to
get Trace’s beast under control before she could put him to work at
the ranch, so she’d agreed to sign him over to Micah for
twenty-four hours upon his release. Putting a lit fuse like Trace
around her kids wasn’t going to happen, so she had no problem
letting Micah do whatever the hell it was Micah did to tame Trace’s
itchy hand first, and then she would take him to the ranch when he
was nice and docile. Or as docile as a raging, irritatingly virile
male like Trace could be.
    She took a shaky breath at the thought of
being near him. There was just something about Trace that flicked
her Bic. All the more reason to make Trace’s life as miserable as
she could for the next three months so he stayed away from her. She
didn’t need him touching her and setting off any more waves of
physical sensation inside her body. She enjoyed her lack of feeling
very much, thank you. As long as Trace and his wicked hand gave her
a wide berth for the next three months, nobody would get hurt. He’d
already awakened too many of her memories as it was. She didn’t
want to remember any more.
    The wind picked up on her way back to the
Range Rover, and a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.
Looked like the storms were arriving a few hours earlier than
expected. Good thing she hadn’t listened to the weather
forecasters, otherwise she would have ridden her Ducati into the
city. And wouldn’t that have just put the shit-flavored icing on
her roadkill cake if she’d been caught in the storm on her way
back?
    For the love of God, how hard was it for
meteorologists to use all that science at their fingertips to come
up with an accurate—
    Movement caught her eye out