Wicked Ride by Rebecca Zanetti
This book is dedicated to all of the energetic Dark Protector fans who asked for more of those wild immortals and their mates. Thank you for your support, for the reviews, for the fan emails, for the tweets, and for the Facebook posts through the years! I very much hope you like this spinoff series, The Realm Enforcers.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I have many people to thank for help in getting this new series to readers, and I sincerely apologize to anyone I’ve forgotten.
Thank you to Big Tone for giving me tons to write about and for being supportive from the very first time I sat down to write. Thanks also to Gabe and Karlina for being such awesome kids and for making life so much fun.
Thank you to my talented agents, Caitlin Blasdell and Liza Dawson, who have been with me from the first book and who have supported, guided, and protected me in this wild industry.
Thank you to my amazing editor, Alicia Condon, who is brilliant, willing to take a risk, and has absolutely fantastic taste in shoes. She also has the knack of finding the coolest restaurants in any city.
Thank you Alexandra Nicolajsen, who has been known to tear up while making guacamole upon finding out one of her authors has hit the Times; and thank you to Vida Engstrand, who throws the best parties in the universe, because they make shy and introverted authors feel comfortable. Thanks to Arthur Maisel for the excellent production. I can’t remember in which book I learned that pistoning wasn’t a verb, but I’ve never forgotten it; and thank you to Fiona Jayde for creating just the right cover.
Thanks also to Steven Zacharius and Adam Zacharius for taking a family company and including everyone, especially authors, in that family.
Thank you to Romance Writers of America for all the great classes, contacts, and conferences. Thanks to my RWA chapters and friends: IECRWA, KOD, FF&P, and PASIC.
And thanks also to my constant support system: Gail and Jim English, Debbie and Travis Smith, Stephanie and Don West, Brandie and Mike Chapman, Jessica and Jonah Namson, and Kathy and Herb Zanetti. Thanks to Augustina Van Hoven for such skill in naming books.
Chapter 1
Kellach Dunne held his fire and turned the corner, keeping his prey in sight. Rain smattered the concrete sidewalk in a weary Seattle fashion, while garish lights from bars and massage parlors marred the comforting darkness of the midnight hour. He stepped over the legs of a bum and ignored the stench of piss, absently wishing for his bed and a good night’s sleep.
He’d left his Harley parked in a side alley to follow the bastard who stalked a woman through the city’s underbelly.
The woman scurried ahead, glancing over her shoulder, her instincts obviously kicking in. Her tight neon blue mini-dress hampered her movements, but he could appreciate the outfit—the kind that curved in just under the ass. The woman had a hell of an ass. Too bad she tottered in five-inch heels and from what smelled like Fireball whiskey.
He opened his senses to the night and the universe, scenting what humans couldn’t even imagine. Yep. Fireball and tequila. Dangerous combination. Although a lingering smell, just under the surface, sped up his blood.
Woman. Fresh and clean . . . all woman.
The man ahead of him stank of body odor, dime store cologne, and cigarette smoke. And something else, something that made Kellach’s temples pound.
Damn it, hells fire, and motherfucker. The bastard had taken the drug. The human had somehow ingested the drug right under Kell’s nose.
Kell had hung out in the Seattle underground bar for nearly a week, and somehow, the dealer had gotten past him. No wonder the foul smelling human was hunting the woman. He wouldn’t be able to help himself.
She broke into a run, surprisingly agile on the heels. As she reacted to the imminent danger, she leaped over a mud puddle and turned down a barely lit alley.
Why the fuck did they always run down an alley? Shaking his head, Kellach increased his strides while the human male in front of him did the same. Idiot didn’t even know Kellach tracked him.
Dim light from the upper apartments filtered down through the fog to barely light the way, although Kell could see fine in the dark.
The woman ran by two overflowing dumpsters, a couple garbage cans, a cardboard box housing a vagrant smelling like marijuana, and an odd arrangement of yellow flower pots perched on the back stoop of a porn shop. She reached the end of the alley blocked by a brick building and whirled around.
Gorgeous. Meager light shone down, highlighting a stunning face. Even with a ridiculous amount of blue eye shadow, pink blush, and bright red lipstick, she was a looker. Deep blue eyes, the color of the witching hour, stared out from a fine-boned face.