Embrace of the Damned Read Online Free Page A

parking structure. Just as she’d nearly reached the exit ramp, the rough sound of an engine reached her ears and a black motorcycle appeared in front of her car … and stopped, blocking her path.
     
    Jessa slammed on the brakes, sliding on the pavement, hot rubber scenting the air, and stopped the car a breath’s space from Biker Guy’s leg—he looked completely unworried.
     
    Her breath shuddered out of her. She gripped the steering wheel and stared through the windshield at the man, taking stock. A chunk of her long hair had come free from her ponytail and lay over her face. It rose and fell with her panicked breaths.
     
    Her savior was good-looking. Intimidating, for sure. Dangerous seeming, no doubt. Not
GQ
handsome like Dmitri. This guy looked like he’d just been sprung from prison with that heated scowl on his face.
     
    He was tall and he was ripped. The roll of his muscles could be seen easily underneath his clothes. What was worse,
and completely inappropriate
, was how he made her respond—like a woman to a man. It was instant, primal, and wholly unwelcome. This man made her whole body sit up and take notice.
     
    Even so, he was definitely not someone she’d want to encounter in an empty parking garage late at night.
     
    Yet, she’d thought Fanged Thing had looked completely harmless before he’d vamped out on her, and this man had probably saved her life. She thought about that Dmitri guy and his creepy warning—which had turned out to be true. Could it be that this was Opposite Night, when all the decent-looking men were dangerous and all dangerous-looking men were decent?
     
    Biker Guy swung off the cycle, leaving the admittedly beautiful thing blocking her way, and stalked toward her, long worn leather coat trailing behind him like the wings of a fallen angel. He walked with anger set into his shoulders and a hint of menace and easy arrogance in his swagger. That anger made his body seem like it would be hot to the touch, as if he identified so strongly with rage that it affected him physically.
     
    She hoped his eyes didn’t bleed black. She’d have a heart attack and save everyone the trouble of having to kill her.
     
    “You!”
he bellowed through the window. She jumped at the commanding sound of his voice.
     
    “I don’t know you,” she said in a shaky voice, glancing at him, then moving her gaze to fix on the cycle blocking her path. “Move your bike. I gotta go.”
     
    “No.” He paused. “Roll down the window.” Absently, she noticed he spoke with an odd accent she couldn’t place.
     
    Jessa took a deep breath and tried her mojo—funneling all of it she possibly could at the man. She didn’t know exactly how it worked, why she could do it, or really
how
she was even able to do it, but if she concentrated hard enough, she could make people bend to her will. Sort of like a Jedi mind trick—
This is not the woman you’re interested in. Move away from the vehicle.
     
    The man lifted his brows. “Roll down the window,” he repeated, slower this time, as if she were an idiot.
     
    Damn it! Why wasn’t it working?
     
    When she remained still and unresponsive, completely freaked out and unmoving, he tapped the glass. With effort, she peeled her fingers off the steering wheel and rolled down her window a crack. She glanced up at him. God, he was stunning. Sculpted, strong jaw; full lips that compelled a girl to want to suck on them; deep, oddly expressive brown eyes.
     
    “Uh, thanks … for your help. I appreciate it.” She looked at his motorcycle. “Really. I have to go now. Can you move that, please?”
     
    “Why was he targeting you?” The man’s voice was deepand rough, like he didn’t use it very much—like honey and gravel.
     
    “Who? That guy back there? Listen, I’m still processing all that, okay? I have no idea who or
what
he was, let alone what he wanted to do with me.” She set her jaw. Savior or not, gorgeous or not, this man was starting to