Chapter 26
The village faded out the back glass as Jo tried to pry her eyes away from the rearview mirror. Night was falling fast, and it wasn’t long until the tips of the rooftops vanished. But it wasn’t the town her eyes were drawn to; it was the strange man sitting behind her, his hood still pulled up around his ears as he huddled in the back seat, his uneasiness pervasive enough to fill the entire vehicle.
They hadn’t gone far when he ordered Zane to stop the car. He turned from one side to the other, carefully looking through the darkness for any signs that they weren’t alone. When he was satisfied, he opened the car door and got out.
Jo looked at the others, unsure of exactly what was going on. Zane gestured for her to get out as well. The American was standing in front of the Jeep, his hands in his pockets as he waited, the falling snow catching the headlights as it swirled around him. With a deep breath, she pushed out of the Jeep, wondering what, if anything, he might have to say.
Her feet crunched ice the few steps she had to take to reach him, but she wasn’t cold. He was, clearly. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of the thick brown coat he wore, the fur blowing in the wind. A vague remembrance of being a cold human came to mind, and she might’ve felt sorry for him if his expression wasn’t set in a snarl when she came around to catch his eyes.
“What the fuck were you thinking, approaching me in a goddamn bar like that? You trying to get me killed?”
“Excuse me?” Jo asked, glancing over her shoulders as if he might be talking to someone else. “How the hell was I supposed to know that? I did what the barkeep told me to do.”
“The fact that he would even suggest that should’ve told you I’m not quite accepted as one of the gang around here.” He swore underneath his breath and shifted on his feet.
“I’m sorry.” She meant it. She hadn’t meant to get him in trouble. “We are desperate for help. If I did any damage, I’ll do whatever I can to fix it.”
“You can’t fix it!” He growled and toed the ice with a thick brown boot, swearing again. “Why are you here?”
“Like you said--I’m looking for the redheaded vampire. I need to find her.”
“Why? What’s the difference between her and the rest of the assholes? They all drink the same blood.”
Jo wasn’t going to go into details with a man whose name she didn’t even know. “I’m leading a group to find her. This is my first mission.” She saw his expression soften slightly and wondered why she was turning this into a confession. Still, the words poured out of her mouth. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But I have to find her.”
He glanced around again, muttering a few curse words under his breath once more. “Look, I cannot be seen talking to you. If anyone suspects that I am, it’ll be worse than death for me.”
“We can protect you.”
He snickered. “Yeah, I’ll just become part of your team. How long will the lone human last when you decide to move in and attack the Vamps, huh?”
She couldn’t blame him for doubting her abilities. That seemed like all she did anymore. “Any help at all--”
“Shut up!”
Jo took a few steps backward, shocked at his reaction, but then she realized he was listening. After a moment, he relaxed slightly. “Meet me here, tomorrow. Same time. I’ll come up with a reason why I won’t be home on time, but I have no reason tonight, and as it is, the bitch is going to tear me a new one.”
An eyebrow arched of its own accord as she wondered if Mrs. American was truly a bitch or if she just hated the fact that her husband spent all his time at the tavern. A tinge of disappointment also washed over her now that she had to assume he was married. She wasn’t sure why. He was handsome, if a person liked the rugged mountain man type. His shaggy hair and scruffy jaw didn’t match his physique, though. He wasn’t that tall, and while it was impossible to say under his clothes, she didn’t think he had the broad shoulders of a lumberjack.
Before Jo could verbally agree, he turned and started heading back toward town. “We can drive you!” she shouted, rushing to catch up with him. Zane asked if she was okay over her IAC, and she shot him back a quick message that she was fine, on the American’s heels.
“No, you can’t.” He didn’t even turn around to look at her.
She realized he was saying that would put him in danger.
“Well, at least let me follow. At a distance.”
“Get the hell away from me--”
He paused that time, looking over his shoulder expectantly, and she realized she hadn’t told him her name. “Jo.”
“Jo?” he repeated, as if he wasn’t expecting that. Or maybe he wanted a last name. He wasn’t getting one. He turned and began walking again, fast for a human.
“What’s your name?” she called, letting him get ahead of her. She’d circle away and give him some space, follow at a distance.
He turned and looked at her again, the scowl on his face telling her he didn’t want to say either. When he growled his name at her, she almost didn’t catch it. “Ryker.” He was off again, hurrying now, almost running.
Jo let him go. As far as she could tell, there were no Vampires in the area, not that she could always pick up on them through her gut anymore, not since there were so many variations of them now. The Souled were always hard to feel coming. But she thought he was relatively safe. Still, she had to protect her interests, so she headed toward the tree line, intending to follow him home.
“Stay there,” she told Zane.
“Be careful.”
Jo nodded, not that he could see from this distance, and she didn’t have visuals turned on through her IAC. Ryker was almost halfway to town now, running. She stayed back, her hand on her gun still resting in its holster.
When he made it to the perimeter of houses, she swung around through a neighboring yard, keeping an eye on him, her eyes cutting through the darkness in a way a mere human could never do. The stars were beginning to fill the sky, but the moon was nowhere to be found making it even more difficult for human eyes to pick up threats in the shadows.
Ryker slowed as he reached the backdoor of one of the larger houses toward the middle of town. It was a two-story in distressed condition, like the others, but it seemed to have several rooms. For a moment, she thought perhaps he was better at poker than she’d given him credit for, but then the shouting began, and the situation became clearer.
“Where have you been, Mr. Ryker?” a woman shouted in broken English. “I cannot lock the door until all tenants are inside, and you are twenty minutes late!”
“I apologize, Mrs. Ivanov. Some thugs wanted a share of my winnings, and I had to fight them off.”
If she believed him, it was hard to tell. She continued to shout, but the words were all in Russian, and Jo’s translator was having trouble keeping up at this distance and velocity. She kept trying to listen, a smirk on her face as she thought it served Ryker right to have to listen to the woman go on when he was such a jackass himself. Eventually, a light came on in an upstairs window, and her eyes moved to see his form standing there, sans the coat and the thick black sweater he’d worn in the bar. She was right. He was no lumberjack. But as her eyes met his, Jo found herself swallowing hard.
Circling around a nearby tree, she paused to catch her breath and get her head together. There was no time to let herself be attracted to anyone, especially not an informant--a human informant. Satisfied that Mr. Ryker was safe for the night, she headed back toward the Jeep to fill in the rest of her team and figure out what the hell they were going to do the next day as they waited to see whether or not Ryker had any information of value. Something told her tomorrow would be another long, disappointing day.