Chapter 8
Ezra
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“This is going to bean adjustment.”
Soren laughs and it sends a shiver down my spine. “Anything I can do to make you more at ease, little dragon?”
I try to quell my hormones, but fuck, he’s making it hard to keep track of my priorities. “I...will let you know as soon as I think of it.”
I ignore his deep rumble, reminding myself that my hormones are in overdrive and not to trust anything I feel under the influence. Decisions made in the heat of the moment aren’t rational, but fuck, I want to climb him like a tree.
We dropped Elias at school and even though my brothers make the best weapons in the area, I insist on driving across town to a dealer that gets out of city imports for a very specific reason; he ships in the popular weapons from out of town.
This means I can be prepared for what outsiders are learning to fight with, not just my brothers’ weapons of choice. A girl needs to be versatile and I pride myself in being prepared for anything.
Too bad that only applies to combat and not men.
We walk into the storefront, weapons displayed beneath glass counters. Soren remains my monumental shadow, always hovering a few steps behind me. I should be annoyed after how many years I’ve spent trying to prove my independence, but fuck, something about knowing this man has my back adds an extra bounce to my step, practically daring someone to try something.
I run my hand over the showcase reverently, appreciating the attention to detail I find. This place doesn’t sell cheap knock offs, only the real deal. And damn, my brothers may hate me for it, but a girl can appreciate a fine quality weapon when she sees one.
I ask to see the 9mm, feeling the balance and weight. I get approval to step over to the range to test fire it and have a tiny orgasm, absolutely in love. I buy it along with a bow, making sure to add extra arrows to the pile. It seems a little archaic to me with everything available now, but Vyrian is having one commissioned, so I should brush up on my skills. I’d hate to have the newblood show me up.
As much as I’d rather spend the money paying off the house, if the triplets refuse it, this is a close second. I always throw some into the bank, building up a safety net in case anything were to happen because I’m paranoid.
I’m especially looking forward to my training sessions with my brothers this week. It’s the only time I really get to spend with them and I’ve been experimenting with a few new techniques. I live for that look of surprise when I’m able to catch them off guard. It doesn’t happen frequently, but when it does, it’s glorious.
Soren steps away to speak to Garret, the owner of the shop, for a bit while I browse. Despite the fact Garret imports the best variety, I still take notice how some things fail in comparison to the triplets’ work. I have no doubt these weapons would kill a man, but there isn’t the same artistic flair that makes each piece unique that I’ve come to be spoiled by. Just because it’s an instrument of death doesn’t mean it can’t be beautiful too.
I can’t help but breathe easier knowing the pheromone problem isn’t a constant just yet. I squeezed the information out of Kinsley, the poor guy looking like he’d rather cut off his own ears than have the conversation. Yeah, I went to him on purpose; a girl has to get her kicks somewhere and this town is boring as hell. Apparently the issue will come and go, increasing in frequency the closer it gets to my heat. So, happy fucking birthday to me, I guess.
“Ezra, how’d I know I’d find you here?” a man asks, leaning on the counter next to me.
He’s decked out in camouflage pants and a tight, black t-shirt, his blonde hair buzzed close to his scalp. His hazel eyes stay trained on me, and I can’t help but to narrow mine at him in return. He gives off the air of a hunter that has his sights set on his prey, and if there’s one thing I absolutely am not, it’s prey.
I’m the motherfuckin’ predator.
“Come to ask for tips?” I throw out there, raising an eyebrow.
He grins, stretching his hand out. “I’m Vince.”
I rest my elbow on the counter and my cheek on my fist instead of shaking his hand. “Good for you?”
He laughs, and a moment later a shadow falls over Vince’s face, to which I don’t even fight my amusement. I can feel Soren’s presence behind me, radiating menace. He may be a sweet gentleman with me, but I have no doubt that he could tear a man apart with his bare hands if he so chose. He wouldn’t have gotten third place in the race if he wasn’t dangerous and I’d love a glimpse at the brutal man hiding beneath his kind surface.
“I never took you as the sort that needed protecting, Veles,” Vince continues without batting an eye at Soren’s arrival. “Or did your brothers finally decide you needed a babysitter?”
So he’s not just cocky, he’s a dick too. Lovely.
I’m not blind; I know exactly what he’s trying to goad me into, but I don’t walk away just yet.
