Read Online Protective Ink (Urban Fantasy) by Misty Simon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Misty Simon
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strained after that damn—fantastic—kiss.
“Let’s get down to business.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he widened his stance.
“Yes, let’s.” The words purred out of her mouth. There was no other way to describe it. The tightness in his abdomen moved south.
This was going to be a long night. Well, shit.
Chapter Six
It was night again and Jackson was no closer to figuring out who was after Garrett. He’d stayed with Lissa for almost two hours the previous night, the two of them combing over the guest list for her soiree. They’d come up with nothing. And now, though Garrett was still recovering from whatever bad juju had come his way, he’d insisted on going out tonight as bait to flush out the person or persons who were after him. Dory had done her best to dissuade him, but he was having none of it.
So Garrett was stalking the street in jeans and a leather jacket, weapons forged from his tattoos tucked into every available pocket and the tops of his boots, just waiting for someone to look at him the wrong way. Jackson was ghosting along behind him, thinking hard about being invisible and hoping it worked. He’d told Garrett he would follow him from a distance, staying out of sight. He hadn’t mentioned his dubious powers and might not until this whole mess was over. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the new situation himself and couldn’t see himself confiding about it in anyone other than Lissa.
Garrett turned the corner into the alley behind the house where Jackson had found him hanging in the bathroom. Noise exploded from the narrow space a heartbeat before Garrett was blown backward out of the alley, falling into a bleeding heap in the street.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Jackson concentrated hard on not being detected as he double-timed it toward the alley. Three men stood shoulder to shoulder with some kind of handheld cannon, cackling to themselves. Thank God Dory had convinced Garrett to wear a full chest shield before heading out tonight. A quick glance assured Jackson the majority of the blood was coming from a small cut on Garrett’s head. It began sealing itself with a thin line of dark from a tattoo on his neck, so Jackson averted his attention to his friends’ attackers.
These fuckers were in for the surprise of their lives.
Completely invisible, he went to work like he was in the trenches. He didn’t make any killing strikes with his knife, but he made good and sure that the men wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. The third man was spooked and then some by the time Jackson got to him.
“Show yourself, you fucker!” he screamed.
Jackson kept absolutely still and silent as the guy dropped the hand cannon, pulled out a gun and started firing it into the air every which way he could. Jackson waited until the clicking of an empty chamber echoed in the small space before he got right in the guy’s face. “You have another weapon you want to try that with?” he said in the deepest, most menacing voice he could muster.
He grabbed the back of the guy’s shirt in one hand and landed a punch right to his kidneys with the other. Though the hit had him down for the count, Jackson put in another one for good measure.
A sudden noise caused Jackson to jerk up his head. Someone dashed into the alley from a dark doorway then swung a left around the corner. The guy was tall, but not that tall, and had on a coat that covered him to his knees. A dull red scarf flapped over his shoulder and his light-colored hair glinted in the glow from the street lamps.
Was it someone running to avoid getting caught up in the drama, or perhaps the ringleader, who’d decided to leave his men to their fate and come back another day? The urge to tackle him for information was nearly overwhelming, but Garrett was groaning the street, and the three stooges on the ground wouldn’t remain there forever. Taking zip ties out of his back pocket, he trussed up the first and went for the
“Let’s get down to business.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he widened his stance.
“Yes, let’s.” The words purred out of her mouth. There was no other way to describe it. The tightness in his abdomen moved south.
This was going to be a long night. Well, shit.
Chapter Six
It was night again and Jackson was no closer to figuring out who was after Garrett. He’d stayed with Lissa for almost two hours the previous night, the two of them combing over the guest list for her soiree. They’d come up with nothing. And now, though Garrett was still recovering from whatever bad juju had come his way, he’d insisted on going out tonight as bait to flush out the person or persons who were after him. Dory had done her best to dissuade him, but he was having none of it.
So Garrett was stalking the street in jeans and a leather jacket, weapons forged from his tattoos tucked into every available pocket and the tops of his boots, just waiting for someone to look at him the wrong way. Jackson was ghosting along behind him, thinking hard about being invisible and hoping it worked. He’d told Garrett he would follow him from a distance, staying out of sight. He hadn’t mentioned his dubious powers and might not until this whole mess was over. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the new situation himself and couldn’t see himself confiding about it in anyone other than Lissa.
Garrett turned the corner into the alley behind the house where Jackson had found him hanging in the bathroom. Noise exploded from the narrow space a heartbeat before Garrett was blown backward out of the alley, falling into a bleeding heap in the street.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Jackson concentrated hard on not being detected as he double-timed it toward the alley. Three men stood shoulder to shoulder with some kind of handheld cannon, cackling to themselves. Thank God Dory had convinced Garrett to wear a full chest shield before heading out tonight. A quick glance assured Jackson the majority of the blood was coming from a small cut on Garrett’s head. It began sealing itself with a thin line of dark from a tattoo on his neck, so Jackson averted his attention to his friends’ attackers.
These fuckers were in for the surprise of their lives.
Completely invisible, he went to work like he was in the trenches. He didn’t make any killing strikes with his knife, but he made good and sure that the men wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. The third man was spooked and then some by the time Jackson got to him.
“Show yourself, you fucker!” he screamed.
Jackson kept absolutely still and silent as the guy dropped the hand cannon, pulled out a gun and started firing it into the air every which way he could. Jackson waited until the clicking of an empty chamber echoed in the small space before he got right in the guy’s face. “You have another weapon you want to try that with?” he said in the deepest, most menacing voice he could muster.
He grabbed the back of the guy’s shirt in one hand and landed a punch right to his kidneys with the other. Though the hit had him down for the count, Jackson put in another one for good measure.
A sudden noise caused Jackson to jerk up his head. Someone dashed into the alley from a dark doorway then swung a left around the corner. The guy was tall, but not that tall, and had on a coat that covered him to his knees. A dull red scarf flapped over his shoulder and his light-colored hair glinted in the glow from the street lamps.
Was it someone running to avoid getting caught up in the drama, or perhaps the ringleader, who’d decided to leave his men to their fate and come back another day? The urge to tackle him for information was nearly overwhelming, but Garrett was groaning the street, and the three stooges on the ground wouldn’t remain there forever. Taking zip ties out of his back pocket, he trussed up the first and went for the
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