Chapter One
“I can see the headlines now: Martial arts expert taken out by bald tires,” Abby mumbled, sighing in relief once her Jeep finally slid to a stop on the icy driveway less than an inch from her friend Kaitlyn McKinney’s garage door. Cutting the engine, she rolled her head from one shoulder to the other. Her nerves were frazzled from trying to keep her car on the sleet-covered roads between Manhattan and the suburbs. The weather had become steadily worse the farther she traveled from the city. Still, even the “worse ice storm of the decade” wouldn’t make her go back to her apartment. Thanks to the fact that her roommate had hooked up with Abby’s ex-boyfriend, Abby had immediately called Kaitlyn and had never been more thankful for her friend’s offer of a place to stay while she looked for another apartment.
“You’re welcome to use my house. You know where I keep the spare key. Since you’ll be getting to my house late in the evening, I’ll call my neighbor across the street to let her know you’re coming. In her advanced years, Mrs Donohue gets overly worried when she sees strange cars parked in a neighbor’s driveway overnight.”
As she stared at the ice-covered, empty house, Abby wished Kaitlyn was home now but appreciated the fact that she wanted to spend as much time in the mountains with her new partner, Landon.
Pulling her red jacket’s hood over her head and zipping the jersey material closed, Abby climbed out of the car. Frozen leaves and pine needles crunched under her shoes as she entered the dense woods beside the house. Other than the sound of sleet pinging on the icy ground, the woods were eerily quiet as she made her way across the sparkling ground to the circular seating area. Abby started to lift the knee-high garden gnome statue when something large blurred through the woods ahead of her. She gasped and let the gnome fall back into place. Pushing her hood back, she tried to track the shadow that had now disappeared. Had she seen black fur?
“Who’s there?” she whispered into the woods. Even though the thick layer of ice gave off a bright glow, lighting up the woods, a cold shiver trickled down her spine as visions of grisly bears formed in her mind’s-eye. Nothing but an icy wonderland greeted her. Bears? In the suburbs?
Get a grip, Ab! You’re going on four hours of sleep. Your imagination is taking over. Shaking off the sensation she was being watched, Abby focused on her task and lifted the gnome once more. Only, the space where the key should’ve been was empty. Damn it! Setting the gnome back down, she considered calling Kaitlyn to ask if she’d changed the key’s hiding place. But it was after eleven and she was freezing her ass off, getting wetter by the minute in the thin sweat jacket. Plus, she did have another way to get into the house.
After spending a good ten minutes searching her car for her lock-picking kit, her hand finally landed on the kit tucked under her driver’s seat. Palming the kit, she grabbed her overnight bag and locked the car.
Thankful for the front porch’s overhang to keep the heavy sleet at bay, Abby slid the tools into the door’s lock and went to work. A few seconds later, she smiled when she felt the tumblers slip into place, unlocking the door. “Like riding a bike,” she murmured and quickly put the tools and the case away in her overnight bag.
But her confidence was short lived. The moment she entered the house, someone grabbed her arm and yanked her inside. Shutting the front door, the person cupped her throat and shoved her against the wood. “What the hell are you doing?” The man’s deadly snarl made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as they stood facing each other in the dimly lit entryway.
Heart thudding, Abby dropped her bag and she instinctively grabbed the man’s wrist. Her attacker’s wide-shouldered silhouette towered over her, and for a split-second, she thought she saw a bright green glow where his eyes should be. She blinked to clear her vision. Nothing glowed in the darkness shrouding his face, but she sure as hell felt his dangerous vise hold around her neck. He wasn’t choking her, but he definitely had her pinned in place with a steel lock.
His speed briefly stunned her, but this burglar had picked the wrong chick to try and intimidate. “I really don’t want to deal with this tonight.” Abby spoke calmly, despite her racing pulse.
“Huh?” the guy started to say when she twisted his wrist and yanked his fingers from her throat. His other hand came up in a blur so fast she would’ve missed it if she’d been waiting for it, but Abby acted on instinct, blocking his grab for her shoulder. At the same time, she kicked him hard in the groin. He bent forward, grunting in pain, and she swept her leg around, hammering the back of his thigh and then his calf with her foot as she swept his leg out from under him.
When he landed on his back on the wood floor, she gripped his hand in a painful lock and growled her answer to his question. “I was invited! If you move even one inch while I call the police, I’ll finish what I started and you won’t walk straight for a week. Got it?”
Abby didn’t expect an answer. He had to have lost his breath when he landed on his back. A low chuckle rumbled up from the floor a split second before the man pulled from her hold, grabbing her wrist. The room suddenly spun and she found herself flat on her back on the area hall rug, lying in the pool of dim light coming from somewhere upstairs.
His well-muscled chest rested on top of hers, smelling of soap and covered with water droplets, as if the man had just come from a shower. Jean-covered hips and hard legs locked hers in place underneath him, while he pulled her arms above her head. He peered at her, the hall’s darkness shrouding his face. “Considering the fact I used a key and you picked the lock, I think you’ll understand my doubts that you were invited.”
“A key that you stole from its hiding spot!” she shot back, right before she jerked a hand free and brought her fist down toward the side of his neck. Anticipating he’d shift his weight to avoid her hit, Abby jerked her hips free the moment he moved and then kneed him hard in his side.
The man grunted from the impact, and she thought she heard a rib crack, but she wasn’t giving up her advantage. This time she aimed for his jaw. His big hand encircled her fist in a crushing hold, and she cried out in pain when he slammed their hands to the floor and rolled back over her.
“Damn, you’re a scrapper. Hold still, little thief.”
Indignant heat crept across her cheeks. No one had so effectively beat her like this in years. “I’m not the thief here—” Her words died off when his face came into view. Most of his hair was pulled back, but several ink-black pieces had fallen loose to brush against his angular jaw. A stainless steel barbell boldly pierced through the inch long scar along the outer edge of his dark eyebrow. The piercing added a rebellious edge to his mid-thirties appearance, intentionally drawing attention to the imperfection as if to say, “Hell yeah, I’ve got a scar. What of it?”
“She protests too much.” His eyebrows slashed downward and crystal blue eyes skimmed her body.
Everywhere he looked, she burned. Why did his skin feel so much warmer than hers? Apparently her excursion in the woods had left her colder than she realized. “How did you know where to find the key?”
“I was told, but even if I hadn’t been, I could’ve found it easily enough.” For a brief second, he closed his eyes and inhaled before his penetrating gaze zeroed in on her face and narrowed slightly. “Oh, you are a thief, sweetness. Every last inch of you.”
The man had the sexiest drawl. It wasn’t Southern per se, but he spoke in a laidback speech pattern very different from most New Yorkers’ hyper-speak. Yet beyond the calm, still-water-runs-deep persona he exuded, something else had set her libido into a tailspin. When he spoke, the dim light caught on another glint of metal. He had a tongue piercing, and she had a feeling the intense man holding her down knew exactly how to use it.
Excerpt from Scions:Perception by Patrice Michelle
Copyright © 2008 by Patrice Michelle
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