Free Blackthorne (The Brotherhood of the Gate Book 1) by Katt Grimm

catch her breath after her second narrow escape of the day. The worst part of this one hadn’t been the reappearance of her mystery guy , but the eerie laughter she heard as she was hauled up onto the sidewalk.
    “Did you hear someone laughing?” she asked Pam, who was still gazing in awe at the retreating figure of Rhi’s rescuer.
    “Was he hot or is it just me?” Pam asked, still breathless. “Did you see that butt?”
    Rhi snapped her fingers in front of her friend’s face. “Concentrate, Pam. I think someone is trying to kill me. Or freak me out. And that guy has mistaken me for someone else because I’ve never seen him before in my life and have done nothing to make him act like such a jerk.”
    “Are you sure there’s no drunken one night stand you want to tell me about from your days of dealing blackjack and poker on the mighty Mississippi? That would bump you up a few notches on my wild child scale.”
    “Believe me, if I had met that guy before, I’d remember him.” She wrapped her arms around her body and looked away. “And you’re right…he was hot . But he gives me the willies, Pam. That was the second time tonight I almost began the trip to meet my maker. He has a bad habit of being around for these little accidents.”
    Pam sobered up immediately and grabbed Rhi by the arm, heading for the bar. “There is more to this than is dreamed of in my philosophy, my friend, to paraphrase that bard guy,” she said. “I think we should do the sensible thing: drink heavily and discuss the invisible men attacking you while someone giggles in the background and the incredibly hot ones save you.”
    “Honestly Pam, did you and your ex ever have sex? Because you act like you haven’t ever gotten any. What am I going to do? I am freaking out a bit here.”
    They stood before the battered pine door of the bar and Pam turned to her. “My ex? It wasn’t quantity, but the quality I found lacking, sweetie. And what are we going to do? I don’t think the cops have a form for ‘attack of snickering entities’ in their files. We need to talk to the freaky people in town…and most of them are usually in this bar.”

Chapter Nine
    The interior of the Dancing Elkwas the cliché mountain bar. Pine paneling covered the walls and the tables were fashioned from old barrels. Mismatched chairs and stools were scattered about the cavernous space. It was hopping for a weeknight, but Monday and Tuesday substituted for weekends in the gaming world, since most casino employees worked during the actual weekend. There was an abundance of cowboy hats, flannel, and worn skiwear. The bar was smoke free, so all patrons who were smokers stayed bundled up in their parkas on the back patio near the dubious warmth of the outdoor fireplace. The air inside was thick with the odor of secondhand smoke from the patio, food, beer, several gallons of Kentucky bourbon, and cactus juice. Most of the pollution emanated from the tables toward the back, which Pam determinedly made her way toward, dragging Rhi along behind her. Two very large men, dressed in the western-themed uniforms of one of the Pearl’scompetitors, were arguing as the women passed them by. “I told you, Earl…gremlins. Little bastards stalked me for two miles through the woods until I got to my truck…popping up in and out of nowhere. They could have gotten me at any time…I think they were playing with me. Think they’re some kind of experiment that got loose from Fort Carson?”
    The other man looked around nervously, “Clay…I think this is one you might want to keep to yourself for now.”
    Pam turned to wiggle her eyebrows at her friend, having also heard the entire conversation. She plunked down in a scarred wooden chair next to a worn bearded man of middling age, his blond hair covered with a black Stetson, which had not seen better days in a few decades. His was a face that showed evidence of once being brash and handsome. But the blue eyes were faded with