They parked close to Craig’s house and jumped out. As Conall came around the SUV, he found Miki crouching down, adjusting the laces on her Docs. He growled. He couldn’t help it. Seeing her legs in those stockings was fucking killing him.
“I heard that.” She stood up and grinned at him. “Try not to start howling during the party.”
“Wearing those stockings, woman, I can’t promise you anything.”
She shook her head and moved toward the house. As she passed him, she grabbed hold of his wrist and dragged him behind her.
She’d touched him. The most innocent of touches, but it was the final nail in his coffin. Now he was hooked. And nothing would save him.
As soon as they walked into Craig’s house, he knew that Miki was in her element. When the standing-room-only crowd saw her the entire place erupted into a chant. “Mi-ki! Mi-ki! Mi-ki!”
Vintage eighties music pumped through the enormous standing speakers, as well as some recent tech. And there were enough high-tech geek supplies to take over the Pentagon. Everyone played games on the giant TV screens or plasma monitors or they were dancing…well, trying to dance. He realized that in her world, Miki was a great dancer. Because these people were the worst.
Of course, he was the biggest one there. Several guys were as tall or taller, but they were usually skinny. Like they hadn’t eaten in days. Or extremely overweight. Like they never left their computer chairs.
Conall tried to ignore the guys hugging Miki as she made her rounds. She was being friendly. They were groping. But when any of them got out of hand, she handled them expertly. She actually twisted one guy’s arm behind his back and slammed him up against the wall.
Conall loved watching her kick ass.
Miki had just finished singing “Love is a Battlefield” with five drunken skateboarders when Amy tackled her from behind.
“My best, best, best friend, Miki!”
She was toasted.
“Dudette. How much liquor did we have tonight?”
“Two beers.” Then Amy began to giggle hysterically.
Just like the bartender she was, Miki pulled the bottle of ale out of Amy’s hand and dragged her to the coffee pot.
“Drink coffee now. Or we’re going to have to give you a cold shower.” That way she could be a wet drunk.
“Maybe I like cold showers.”
“I’ll make Ben do it.” Since Ben had been trying for about ten years to get into Amy’s pants, Miki was confident she wouldn’t have to “make” Ben do anything.
“Bitch. Where’s the loyalty?”
Miki handed her a Styrofoam cup filled with coffee. “I have loyalty only to the Pack.” Then Miki laughed at her own joke.
Amy watched her with narrowed eyes. “You’re awfully perky, you know, for you.”
“I’m having a good time.” And she was in a good mood. Listening to Conall growl every time she moved had done wonders for her ego.
“It’s that guy, huh? Masters of the Universe’s He-Man.”
Miki had such geek friends. She’d already heard Conall referred to as Wolverine, The Punisher, Captain America and, her personal favorite, “One of those blond German guys from Die Hard”.
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“Oh, come on. I’m surprised the guy didn’t piss on your leg this morning when he saw you talking to Troy. And it’s been quite entertaining watching him watch you. While you do your damn best to ignore him.”
Kenny came up behind her. “What’s going on?”
“I’m drunk and Miki’s got Conan the Barbarian on her butt.”
“It has been a hell of a display between you two.”
“What are you talking about?” Miki snapped.
“Show her, Ken.”
Kenny suddenly hugged her. A big, friendly one. Completely asexual. When he pulled away, they all looked at Conall. She could see his glare from clear across the room.
“That’s what we’re talking about.”
“All of you are idiots,” Miki mumbled.
“Deny everything. Admit nothing. Demand proof,” her friends stated in unison.
Miki gave them the finger and walked away. Seeing Conall’s face had made her toes curl. This night was getting stranger and stranger.
Conall couldn’t stop watching her. He liked the way she moved. He liked the way she acted with her friends. He liked her. More and more with each passing second.
“You know some in law enforcement consider watching someone that closely as stalking.”
Conall looked down. Miki’s three male friends surrounded him. Craig. Ben and Kenny Liu who she always called by his entire name.
Conall crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Is that a fact?”
“Yeah,” Craig continued. “You may be bigger than us.”
“Freakishly bigger,” Kenny Liu added.
“But we can do things to you that you can’t even imagine.”
Ben adjusted his backward baseball cap. “Real shame if something happened to your bank account.”
“Or if you ended up on the FBI’s most wanted list.”
“Or if you were listed as dead.”
Conall stared at the three men. He had to admit he was impressed. He didn’t think they had any balls. He’d been wrong.
“So,” Craig finished up, “if you hurt her, we’ll make your life a living hell.”
“And we’ll enjoy every minute of it.” Kenny Liu reached up and patted Conall on his shoulder. “Remember that, Conan.”
Conall watched them walk away. True, he could tear their throats out, but he liked the fact Miki’s friends felt that strongly about protecting her.
His gaze moved across the crowd and he caught sight of her again. She was playing a video game with some guy. It was one of those fighting ones. He and Zach had to stop playing those because they kept getting into real fistfights over them. Whatever Miki had done, she clearly won because she threw the game controller on the ground, brought both her arms up, and screamed “In your face!” Then she did a sad, but hilarious little victory dance.
Conall sighed. “Sure, Conall. Why go for a normal girl?”
He was about to hit the food table again when he smelled it. Cutting through the throng of people. It was a she and she was moving fast. He caught sight of her dark spiky hair as she pushed through the crowded living room.
He glanced over at Miki. Craig had pulled out a karaoke machine and they were dragging Miki up to the front. She’d be fine. She had her dangerously psychotic friends protecting her. He followed the spiky head outside and around the side of the house.
He grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and lifted her off the ground. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She fought back, her claws coming out. He tossed her fifteen feet before she could slash him. She hit the ground and slid. Then she flipped herself over and stared at him. She was young. She’d dyed her golden hair black. But she couldn’t hide those gold eyes or that Pride smell.
She hissed like a house cat and backed away from him. Conall frowned and slowed his pursuit. Any other Pride female would have gone for his throat by now. This one was running from him.
“Stay away from me!”
Conall stared at her and, for a moment, he thought she might burst into tears.
“I was just here for the party. I…I don’t want to fight you.”
“Why aren’t you with your Pride?” He looked around, expecting them to suddenly appear. Females attacking from every side.
“I’m not part of the Pride anymore.”
“Why not?”
“That’s none of your business.” She scrambled to her feet. He sized her up. She was the alternative queen. All black clothes, silver jewelry, and deathly pale skin. And, of course, black eyeliner and shadow. A Goth chick. He could bet she didn’t get along too well with some of the other Pride females.