Free Night Angel by Lisa Kessler

Walker was truly a monster.
    She’d run to Benedict’s arms for comfort.
    She would be his.
    If the Night Walker didn’t leave Ireland, then Benedict would relish taking everything from him, almost as much as he would enjoy killing the Mayan god himself.
    If he could figure out how.
    Juliana stood before him, breaking his train of thought.
    He smiled. “Ready to go?”
    She nodded and led him out. After setting the alarm and locking up, she made a note on her pad. Where to?
    “There’s a great restaurant on the waterfront near the docks. Their Bangers and Mash is amazing.”
    Sounds good.
    He offered his arm, but she pretended not to notice, fiddling with her pen and pad and walking ahead of him. He ground his teeth. The damned Night Walker had already charmed his Irish rose. He matched her step. If the filthy Mayan had touched her, he’d rip his arms off. And then he’d give Juliana a lesson in loyalty.
    The restaurant was a good six blocks from her shop. Since she couldn’t write and walk at the same time, Benedict lost himself in the swell of revenge brewing in his gut. With the restaurant finally in sight, he pointed it out and guided her to the door.
    After they were seated, he ordered for them both. For his plan to work, he’d need to lure the Night Walker in and catch him in the act. Inebriated men, hungry for extra money, were exactly what he needed.
    Benedict reached for his silent cell phone and frowned. “Juliana will you excuse me for a minute? I need to take this call.”
    She nodded, and he made his way to the door, the dead phone pressed to his ear. He didn’t bother speaking into it; she couldn’t hear him anyway. Once he was outside, he made his way across the parking lot to where a live band played. Boisterous laughter echoed through the alley. Benedict almost smiled, pocketing his phone.
    He jogged to the door and slipped inside the pub. The reek of beer, fried fish, and sweat assaulted his senses. Benedict walked through the crowd, parting them without effort. Reveling in the grumbles and threats from the men cast aside, he reached the bar. He scanned the patrons and spied two men at the end of the bar, preening like drunken peacocks.
    Benedict put himself between them.
    “Git out of the way ya bloody arse!” The tall blond man shoved Benedict, frowning when he didn’t move.
    “I have a proposition for you blokes. There’s money in it, and you’ll still get to beat the shit out of each other. Interested?”
    The dark-haired one shook his head. “Yer full o’ shit.”
    Benedict withdrew a few large bills from his pocket. “And there’s more where this came from.”
    The first man took a step closer. “An’ all I gotta do is kick the ever-lovin’ crap outta him?” He pointed at his mate.
    “More or less.” Benedict shrugged. “Meet me in the alley.”
    He turned around, heading for the back door. He didn’t check to see if the oafs were following. They’d practically drooled over the cash. He had no doubt they’d be trailing after him like a couple of starving puppies.
    When he got to the back alley, he stopped. The blond crossed his arms. “Money first.”
    Benedict handed each of them some bills and then produced a switchblade. “I’ll leave this here for whoever grabs it first.” The weapon clinked on the pavement, echoing though the empty alley. “To make things more interesting.”
    He walked away, smiling when he heard the punches land. With any luck, blood would flow soon.
     

     
    Colin snapped awake the moment the sun set in the sky. Memories of his night with Juliana filled his head, warming his heart. But there was still so much to tell her. First, he needed to feed.
    After a quick shower, he dressed and grabbed his coat. He’d hunt near the docks and then head over to Juliana’s cottage. Anxiousness coiled in his chest, a unique sensation he’d never experienced before.
    As Colin reached for the front door, Bartley came inside. “Good to see ya, Colin.”