Silas Read online

  I drew in breath.

  She peered up at me. “Are you going to kiss me or what?”

  I let out a little laugh. “I could maybe do that.”

  She pressed close.

  I wrapped my arms around her, placing my palm against the small of her back.

  I pressed my lips against hers.

  She was so lovely and delicate, her body fitting into my arms, her mouth wet and warm and responsive. I adored kissing her. It was the nicest thing I’d felt in months. I clung to her, not wanting to let go of her.

  When our lips parted, she kept her eyes closed.

  I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

  She sighed. “I love you,” she whispered, her eyes still closed.

  My chest tightened. “I love you too.”

  Her eyes popped open. “That’s why you wanted to come see me, isn’t it? Because I said it on the phone.”

  I hesitated.

  “It feels good to say it. It’s true you know,” she said. “I don’t know why I had to wait so long to admit it. But I’ve known for… oh god, since about a week after I left West Virginia. But I kept telling myself that it might go away, or that it was too inconvenient because we live miles apart, and—”

  “You know,” I said, “I’ve thought about this, and there’s really nothing keeping me in Morgantown. I was in West Virginia to find Rolf. I knew his hunting grounds were there. That was the only reason. And now that he’s dead, I could leave. I want to leave. I don’t want to be tied to anything that has to do with him. I told you that you could transfer, but I could transfer.”

  She took a step back.

  “What?” I said. “Was that too fast? Did I freak you out?”

  “No. You surprised me is all.” She shook her head. “What about Sloane?”

  “She says I scare off all her prospective dates,” I said. “She wouldn’t mind, I don’t think.”

  Christa smiled. “Well, you are terrifying.”

  “I can be terrifying,” I said, feigning offense.

  She stroked my jaw. “No, I know you can.”

  “Look,” I said. “We don’t have to decide anything. I mean, I’m only here to visit.”

  She looked into my eyes. “But you’d want to stay? To be with me?”

  “I want to be with you more than anything else on earth.”

  She kissed me again.

  I crushed her against me. She felt so good in my arms.

  “Well,” she said, tracing her finger over my chest, “you did sort of imply that you wanted to go down on me. So, how about you eat my pussy, and if you do a good job, then maybe I’ll think about keeping you.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, I have mad skills. Once you feel my lips between your legs, you’re going to, you know, worship me.”

  “Right,” she agreed. “I’d forgotten how humble you are.”

  “What can I say? I’m very talented. You’re a lucky woman to have snagged me.” I reached down to find the button of her jeans. I undid it.

  “Big talk,” she said. “But now you’re going to have to blow my mind.”

  “Challenge accepted.” I slid my hand inside her pants.

  She squealed.

  Sloane, Assassins Book Four, is forthcoming.

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  Like strong, larger-than-life, bad boy heroes?

  Keep reading for a sneak peak at Vigil, a billionaire superhero romance.

  VIGIL

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  I turned in a tight circle, searching for the source of the voice. I couldn’t see anyone.

  It was a deep voice, a little scratchy, but still commanding. A male voice. A voice that was used to being obeyed.

  I clutched my purse tighter, reaching inside to turn on my voice recorder. It made me feel irrationally safer to think that I would have this mysterious, disembodied voice on tape. Well, not literal tape. It was a digital recorder. But that hardly mattered. I was nervous, and my thoughts always got scattered when I was nervous, no matter how hard I tried to rein them in. “I prefer to conduct conversations with people I can see.”

  Good. My voice hadn’t even shook.

  “What are you doing wandering around alone out here?” the voice continued, plowing over me as if I hadn’t spoken. “Don’t you know that two women have disappeared from this part of the city, and they’ve only uncovered pieces of their bodies washing up on the shore of the bay?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do know that,” I said. What did he think I was doing out here?

  Then it hit me hard and cold in the pit of my stomach. What kind of man hides in the darkness and reminds women that they aren’t safe? The killer, that’s who.

  My throat felt dry. I tried to swallow but couldn’t.

  I forced myself to stay calm. I’d come out here to investigate things. That was my job. I was an investigative journalist. Well, I was a summer intern, but that hardly mattered. I had my press pass in my purse. I’d come to the seedy part of the city because I wanted to find things out.

  Now, here I was, possibly talking to the killer. I couldn’t afford to be frightened. I had to be bold.

  “Hayden Barclay?” I said. “Is that you?”

  He melted out of a shadowed alley. He wore all black—skin tight spandex that hugged every curve and bulge of his body. He was hulking. Huge. His shoulders were broad, his gloved hands powerful and enormous. He was wearing a mask that covered his nose and face, leaving only his lips and chin bare.

  I took a step backwards.

  “Why would you call me that?”

  This wasn’t Hayden Barclay. I knew Hayden Barclay. Hayden Barclay wasn’t nearly this… muscular.

  But Darlene had been seeing Hayden. She’d told me about Hayden’s obsession with legs. And then I hadn’t heard anything from Darlene. Ever again. Because they’d found her torso on the shore. Minus her legs.

  I’d assumed the killer had to be Hayden Barclay. Never mind the fact that police claimed he’d alibied out. I knew. It was him. I’d come to the city of Aurora precisely because Hayden was here, and I was going to catch him.

  But this man standing in front of me was lethal and powerful and someone else. Someone else completely.

  I was stunned. I kept moving backwards, slowly shaking my head.

  The masked man sprang for me.

  I turned, picking up my feet, and began to run.

  “Wait,” he yelled after me. “What do you know about Hayden?”

  Was that something a killer would yell? Why wasn’t he running after me?

  Was he running after me?

  I looked over my shoulder, down at the street. It was dark except under the small pools of light from the street lamps. The summer heat settled on the streets, creating a faint mist around everything. The masked man stood in the fog, faint lights reflecting against his muscular shoulders.

  He wasn’t pursuing me.

  Maybe he liked to watch girls run before he caught them and cut their legs off.

  If so, did that mean I should stop running?

  I wasn’t looking where I was going, so I turned around.

  And ran straight into a man who was coming out of the back door of a club. There were several out here, real down-and-dirty places. Most were owned by mobsters. Organized crime was prevalent in the city, and this part of town was its pulsing heartbeat.

  The man nearly lost his balance.

  He was wearing a flashy suit with a big purple tie and a black silk shirt.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I looked back over my shoulder. The masked man wasn’t there anymore.

  The man righted himself. He sneered at me. He had a gold to
oth. “You should watch where you’re going.”

  “I know.” My heart was pounding and sweat popped out above my upper lip. Because I’d been running? Because I was nervous? All of my instincts told me not to piss this guy off. “I’m really sorry. So, so sorry.”

  He eyed me. “That so?”

  I nodded.

  “Make it up to me then. Buy me a drink.” He gestured towards the door that he’d just come out of.

  “In there?” I said. “Oh, I’m not sure if… What if I just gave you the money for a drink and then you could get whatever you want?”

  His gaze raked my body. “But then I’d be denied the pleasure of your company.”

  Okay. This was starting to make me feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t a stranger to men ogling me, but I’d never experienced it in a situation like this, where there weren’t any rules, where the man could do anything he wanted to me.

  I tried a smile. “I’m flattered. But, you know, I have a boyfriend. And he’s just around the corner.”

  The man chortled. “Is he?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said.

  “He the one you were running from?”

  Damn it.

  The man grabbed me by the arm and pulled me against him. His hot breath spilled out over my skin, smelling of cigar smoke and liquor. “I’ll protect you, baby. Just buy me a drink, okay?”

  My heart exploded, going at breakneck speed. “Let go of me.”

  “Oh, don’t be like that, baby.” His hands were moving over me, exploring the dip of my waist.

  I shoved him.

  He just laughed. “Calm down.”

  I was the complete opposite of calm. I was panicking. What was this guy going to do to me? Would it be better if I stopped struggling and played along? If I did go into that club and have a drink with him, would that pacify him?

  No. No way. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pretend that what this guy was doing was okay.

  “You’re going to want to let me go,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “Because of your boyfriend?” The thought clearly amused him.

  “Because—”

  But I never finished what I was saying, not that I knew what I was going to say anyway, because the man was ripped away from me.

  At first I couldn’t see how it had happened. But then the masked man from earlier became clear to me. He moved quickly, like some kind of lithe animal taking down its prey.

  He yanked the man with the purple tie away from me, and then let go of him.

  Purple Tie was confused. He looked around, trying to figure out who’d touched him.

  The masked man darted in front of Purple Tie, landing two quick punches on the man’s chin.

  Purple Tie lashed out, trying to hit back. But his fists only struck air.

  Because the masked man had danced out of the way again. Now, he was behind Purple Tie. He propelled him face first into the side of the building.

  He drove Purple Tie’s forehead into the concrete wall.

  Purple Tie grunted.

  The masked man smashed Purple Tie’s forehead against the building again.

  Purple Tie slumped to the sidewalk, lifeless.

  The masked man glared at me. “I told you it wasn’t safe out here.”

  * * *

  The masked man shoved a helmet at me. “Put this on.”

  “What kind of motorcycle is this?” I’d never seen anything like it before. It was black and sleek and stylized. Not as big as I might expect but obviously powerful and rugged.

  “You could say it’s unique,” he said.

  I narrowed my eyes. “How do I know that you won’t be taking me to your secret lair where you keep your collection of women’s legs?”

  He looked startled. “You think I’m the one killing these women?”

  I fingered the helmet. “Well, let’s see. You’re running around in the dark wearing a mask and driving a unique motorcycle. To say that anything about you is typical would be a big exaggeration.”

  He moved closer, his deep voice flowing over me. “I would never do something like that. I’m here to find the killer and stop him.”

  Was he? I wasn’t sure if I believed him. “Prove it.”

  “I just saved you from that man on the street.”

  “Maybe you did that because you want me all to yourself. Maybe you had to get me away from him so that you could kill me.”

  He let out a frustrated sigh. “All I want to do is get you home and safe. That’s it. I have no desire to hurt you.”

  Wow. He was so… big and powerful. I wasn’t exactly the shortest girl on earth. I was a little taller than average at five feet, seven inches. There were lots of guys who were taller and bigger than me, but he was like… a giant. A huge, sturdy, sensuous giant.

  Sensuous?

  I must be nervous again. My thoughts were getting scattered.

  There was no reason to think he was sensuous. Sure, I could see every curve and outline of his body, from his rippling, hard chest to his impressively muscled thighs. And sure, he was kind of close right now, and I could look up at his masked face. I could stare at his lips, the only feature I could see. They were nice lips. Kissable lips.

  I gulped, looking down at the ground.

  “Put on the helmet,” he told me. “I’m taking you home. It isn’t safe out here.”

  Maybe not. But I didn’t know that it would be safe with him either. I seemed to find him inexplicably attractive, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t dangerous. After all, Ted Bundy looked pretty hot in pictures. I could understand why girls let him into their cars. I turned the helmet over in my hands. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  He sighed again. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already done it, wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t think so, no,” I said. “I think you’d want to lure me into a false sense of security so that you could get me someplace out of the way. Someplace where no one would hear me scream.”

  He snatched the helmet from me and slammed it onto my head. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to take the chance, then. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I fastened the straps under the helmet below my chin.

  “Get on the bike.” He gestured.

  I hesitated.

  He took me by the shoulders and turned me toward the motorcycle. Then he gave me a little shove.

  I looked over my shoulder at him. “You’re very pushy, you know that?”

  His hand rested on the small of my back, and he guided me over to the bike. “Why did you say what you did about Hayden Barclay?”

  I gasped at his touch. It seemed like such an intimate place to touch me. His hand was large and warm, even through his gloves. My legs felt weak. “Why do you care?”

  His voice rumbled in my ear. “What were you doing out there tonight?”

  “I…” What could I tell him? Should I tell him the truth? How much of it? “I know that Hayden Barclay is the killer.”

  “You do?” he said. “But according to the authorities, he’s got an alibi.”

  I raised my gaze to meet his. “Bullshit. He’s the heir to the biggest organized crime family in the city. He could have paid off any number of people to swear that they were with him on the evenings in question. Besides, the fact that the bodies are found in the bay makes it tough to pinpoint the time of death with precision. He could capture the girls and keep them somewhere until he’s ready to kill them.”

  It was hard to read the expression on the masked man’s face, but he seemed almost impressed. “You’re right. I’ve had similar thoughts.”

  “You have?”

  “The entire police system in the city is corrupt. The gangs pay off everyone. Three fourths of our fine boys in blue are taking bribes and looking the other way. They aren’t going to stop Barclay. Someone has to.”

  “Exactly,” I said.

  His gaze caught mine. I looked deep into his eyes. They were blue, I realized. Light blue like the sky in the early mo
rning.

  He gestured to the motorcycle. I swung a leg over it and sat down.

  I felt him settle in behind me. His body wrapped around mine, taut and massive. I could feel his chest against my back, his thighs against my backside, against my thighs. Suddenly, the masked man was touching me in so many places. I felt light headed. It was hard to stay sitting up. I collapsed into him, and he was pressing against me even more.

  He grasped my hips, positioning me on the seat of bike. He seemed to pull me closer to him, my ass against his crotch.

  I felt hot all over. Possibly from his closeness. Possibly because I was starting to feel inappropriately turned on.

  “What are you?” I whispered. “Some kind of masked vigilante, here to clean up corruption in our fair city?”

  He didn’t deny it. He didn’t say anything at all. Instead, he turned the key in the motorcycle and pumped the throttle.

  It came to life between my legs, roaring and purring, vibrating through me.

  And the experience was suddenly violently sexual.

  I made a little sound in the back of my throat, but he couldn’t have heard it over the motor.

  He squeezed his powerful thighs around me, holding me tightly in place.

  And the bike took off.

  We sped down the street, the city streaming by us—only brightly colored lights and gleaming pavement.

  My heart raced, pounding in my throat. The speed, the wind in my face, the hard male body at my back… it was an intoxicating combination.

  We careened around corners, past tall buildings and parked cars. We blasted through the city, so fast that my breath couldn’t catch up.

  But then, abruptly, he pulled to a stop.

  “I forgot to ask where you lived,” he said.

  I unfastened my helmet, took it off, and set it down. I turned to look at him. He wasn’t wearing a helmet on his head. Daredevil. I looked into his blue eyes, my heart still stuttering in my chest. I felt out of control of my own body.

  “What are you?” His voice seemed harsher, like it had come down a few more octaves.

  “I’m an intern.” I was still staring into his eyes.

  “An intern?”

  “For The Sun-Times,” I said.