someone, cher ?”
She gasped as a man’s voice—thick with the accent of a Cajun—came lilting from the darkness. She moved away from the sound, only to end up with her back against a wall. A large, hulking figure started toward her, blocking the way out. Her heart leapt into her throat as he came into view—the biggest man she’d ever seen. Wearing a white t-shirt that appeared to be stretched to its limits by his bulging biceps, he lumbered forward, his boots pounding a heavy tread on the pavement. A messy mop of dirty blond curls fell in disarray around a rugged, hard face, the jaw covered in days’ worth of stubble. His piercing, cool green stare seemed a bit disdainful as he stared at her.
Addison scowled. “Look, I’m off the clock, and I’m not that kind of stripper. Some of the other girls are down for this kind of stuff, but I’m not, so get out of my way before I kick your ass.”
To her surprise, he laughed, his chest trembling with amusement. “You, hurt me?”
“Leave her alone, Micah.”
Addison started and turned to find that the wall she’d knocked into was actually a person. She backed away as he peeled himself away from the shadows.
“I apologize for my friend,” he said.
He had a bit of an accent, but he wasn’t Southern. New York, maybe?
“He doesn’t have manners, which is why I never take him anywhere,” he continued.
“My foot!” the one named Micah protested. “I got more manners in my thumb than a Yankee like you has in his whole body.”
Addison heaved a heavy sigh, relieved she didn’t need to kill these guys. They didn’t seem to be a threat, and if they’d wanted to hurt her, they would have already. She scowled and turned back to the Yankee. He was tall, but not as intimidating as his friend. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, and his skin a beautiful shade of dark chocolate brown, his features full-bodied. Grey, soulful eyes hooded by dark brows stared bat at her. Tension around his mouth hinted at more beneath the surface. This guy looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and it was killing him a little each day. She instantly empathized with him.
“You must be the ones Elle told me were coming,” she said. She supposed the reprieve she’d wanted wasn’t an option here. It seemed that once God decided something was going to happen, He worked fast. “Let me see your marks.”
The dark man with the glittering gunmetal eyes smirked at her. “You met Elle?”
She nodded. “Yeah, and she said I could trust you, but to ask for marks first because there are demons out there that might want me dead.”
Reaching up, he loosened the first three buttons of his deep red shirt and pulled it aside, revealing a wide swath of bare, smooth chest. Addison leaned close to better see the dark tattoo. She swallowed noisily as his spicy scent met her nostrils.
“You can touch it if you need to,” he murmured, gazing down at her. “To make sure it isn’t fake. It won’t rub off. It’s burned into my skin.”
Addison took several steps back—the last thing she needed was to touch him. “I believe you. I know a tattoo when I see one. How about you?”
She turned to the big Cajun and waited.
Pursing his lips in annoyance, he yanked at the collar of his t-shirt, revealing the matching black mark branded into his sun-tanned skin. A cross with a dove carrying an olive branch perched on one of its beams; Elle had told her about the symbol of the Guardians.
“I guess you guys want to talk,” she said. “We shouldn’t do it out in the open, though. If you want, we can go back to my place and I’ll hear you out. I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”
“Jackson Bennett, Jr., but everyone just calls me Jack,” he said, extending a hand to her. “This is my partner, Micah Boudreaux.”
Addison lifted one eyebrow. “Partner?”
Micah cleared his throat. “All Guardians work in pairs. We aren’t those kinds of
She gasped as a man’s voice—thick with the accent of a Cajun—came lilting from the darkness. She moved away from the sound, only to end up with her back against a wall. A large, hulking figure started toward her, blocking the way out. Her heart leapt into her throat as he came into view—the biggest man she’d ever seen. Wearing a white t-shirt that appeared to be stretched to its limits by his bulging biceps, he lumbered forward, his boots pounding a heavy tread on the pavement. A messy mop of dirty blond curls fell in disarray around a rugged, hard face, the jaw covered in days’ worth of stubble. His piercing, cool green stare seemed a bit disdainful as he stared at her.
Addison scowled. “Look, I’m off the clock, and I’m not that kind of stripper. Some of the other girls are down for this kind of stuff, but I’m not, so get out of my way before I kick your ass.”
To her surprise, he laughed, his chest trembling with amusement. “You, hurt me?”
“Leave her alone, Micah.”
Addison started and turned to find that the wall she’d knocked into was actually a person. She backed away as he peeled himself away from the shadows.
“I apologize for my friend,” he said.
He had a bit of an accent, but he wasn’t Southern. New York, maybe?
“He doesn’t have manners, which is why I never take him anywhere,” he continued.
“My foot!” the one named Micah protested. “I got more manners in my thumb than a Yankee like you has in his whole body.”
Addison heaved a heavy sigh, relieved she didn’t need to kill these guys. They didn’t seem to be a threat, and if they’d wanted to hurt her, they would have already. She scowled and turned back to the Yankee. He was tall, but not as intimidating as his friend. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, and his skin a beautiful shade of dark chocolate brown, his features full-bodied. Grey, soulful eyes hooded by dark brows stared bat at her. Tension around his mouth hinted at more beneath the surface. This guy looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and it was killing him a little each day. She instantly empathized with him.
“You must be the ones Elle told me were coming,” she said. She supposed the reprieve she’d wanted wasn’t an option here. It seemed that once God decided something was going to happen, He worked fast. “Let me see your marks.”
The dark man with the glittering gunmetal eyes smirked at her. “You met Elle?”
She nodded. “Yeah, and she said I could trust you, but to ask for marks first because there are demons out there that might want me dead.”
Reaching up, he loosened the first three buttons of his deep red shirt and pulled it aside, revealing a wide swath of bare, smooth chest. Addison leaned close to better see the dark tattoo. She swallowed noisily as his spicy scent met her nostrils.
“You can touch it if you need to,” he murmured, gazing down at her. “To make sure it isn’t fake. It won’t rub off. It’s burned into my skin.”
Addison took several steps back—the last thing she needed was to touch him. “I believe you. I know a tattoo when I see one. How about you?”
She turned to the big Cajun and waited.
Pursing his lips in annoyance, he yanked at the collar of his t-shirt, revealing the matching black mark branded into his sun-tanned skin. A cross with a dove carrying an olive branch perched on one of its beams; Elle had told her about the symbol of the Guardians.
“I guess you guys want to talk,” she said. “We shouldn’t do it out in the open, though. If you want, we can go back to my place and I’ll hear you out. I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”
“Jackson Bennett, Jr., but everyone just calls me Jack,” he said, extending a hand to her. “This is my partner, Micah Boudreaux.”
Addison lifted one eyebrow. “Partner?”
Micah cleared his throat. “All Guardians work in pairs. We aren’t those kinds of
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