Silver Blade Read Free

twitched as he admired Angela’s ass in her tight jeans. Down, boy! Now was not the time for him to be thinking about a woman. The only thing that should be on his mind was catching and killing the demon.
    He searched the closet and drawer for his stuff. He found some of his clothes and headed into the small bathroom. He was just coming back out as Angela returned to the room.
    “What do you think?” he asked.
    He was still in his boxer briefs, but now he wore his motorcycle boots, a leather jacket, and a belt. No shirt, no jeans. Angela started to laugh.
    “They had to cut off the shirt and pants,” said the nurse as he walked into the room behind Angela. “I’m sure they would have cut off the jacket too, if I hadn’t stopped them. Great jacket by the way. Here.” He handed a pair of green scrub pants to Oz. “I had an extra pair of pants in the car.”
    “Thanks. You must be Tracy.”
    “And you must be Oscar.”
    “Just Oz.”
    “Okay, ‘Just Oz,’ how are you feeling this morning?”
    “Well, I’d be lying if I didn’t say my ribs were a little stiff. And my shoulder hurts like shit.”
    “Your ribs are bruised up pretty good. Your shoulder was dislocated, but the doctor managed to pop it back in. No broken bones. You’ll probably want to go see your doctor in a few days. By the way, nice collection of scars. Does your job involve acting as a human knife block?”
    “That’s a new one.” He would remember that one to tell his brothers.
    “Seriously, do you get that many scars winning or losing?”
    “Winning mostly. You should see the other guys. I’m sorta what you would call a bounty hunter.” The answer wasn’t a complete lie. He and many of the other demon hunters acted as bounty hunters, not only for the money but to help explain injuries, and to account for their unusual and well-stocked collection of weapons.
    “‘Sort of’, eh? It would appear that it’s a rather dangerous line of work. You must meet some really mean dudes.”
    “The chicks are just as bad. I started shaving my head after a young lady of—shall we say—low moral standards got a good chunk of my scalp along with a handful of hair she pulled out.” Oz turned his head and showed them both a ragged scar above his ear. That situation had earned him a good deal of teasing from his brothers.
    Angela didn’t see the humor in guys getting beaten and bloodied. She never understood the appeal of Fight Club ; even Brad Pitt could not hold her attention for long in that movie.
    The two men continued to banter back and forth. She studied Oz’s broad shoulders and tapered waist, and the promise that the tight boxer briefs hinted lay beneath. What deep and secret desires could this big scarred man awaken in her? A sudden heat spread through her body. Although the offers came regularly, she hadn’t had sex in almost a year. For some reason, the guys she dated thought, because she wore a skimpy costume, her morals were also small and sparse. Usually that was not the case. This man, however, was making her think otherwise. Once again, she forced her eyes back up to his face.
    “I’m assuming there is no medical reason I need to stay?” Oz asked.
    “No, but sorry, I’m not allowed to let you leave. Police should be here shortly. They want to talk to you about the accident,” Tracy said.
    “Of course they do.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in Oz’s voice. “Is there any place we can get some breakfast first?”
    “We’ve got cereal and juice and milk. I’ll go bring you guys a tray.”
    “Thanks,” said Oz.
    “You should be prepared for the cops to ask you about the scars, too. The doctor had to make a note in your file about them, and Pettiworth was in the room.”
    “Of course. Thanks for the warning.”
    “No problem,” replied Tracy. “I’ll go find you some cereal.”
    “Thanks, Tracy,” added Angela as the nurse left the room.
    “No rest for the wicked,” Oz said.
    “I think the expression