Chapter One
Libras hate injustice.
“You were supposed to be on a plane to Dublin three hours ago, Teagan. What are you doing here?” Jeffrey Williamson peeked into her office. “You’re biting your lip again. What’s happened?”
The click of Teagan Rees’s pen echoed off the wall, followed by her sigh. “You know the Felix Austin case?”
“The young man accused of grand theft auto?”
“Yes.” She touched her screen. “This was sent to me anonymously a few minutes ago. The video is grainy but doesn’t appear altered.”
She turned the screen so the other lawyer could watch the footage. She played it again after it finished as the other man lifted his glasses and leaned in. “That’s the stolen car?”
“It is…or was before they burned it.”
“Is there a back seat?”
“Not in that model.” She pushed a shiny car brochure across the desk.
“So, where is your defendant? Unless he grew a half foot or is into cross-dressing, this is the proof you’ve been looking for.”
“I’ve sent a copy down to the lab to get their thoughts. If it’s genuine, I won’t be heading off for vacation for a couple of days yet.”
Jeffrey crossed to the door and closed it. “Are you safe here?”
“I’ll be fine.” She hoped her voice conveyed the confidence she didn’t feel. “The moon moves into Libra tomorrow. The hardest part will be getting to the Hill of Tara once I land in Ireland. The Foniás know our protective lands lie somewhere in the UK. I can only hope they don’t know the entrances.”
“How are you getting there?”
“You mean, once I land in Ireland? I’ve reserved a spot with a tour group heading to Tara. It should offer me cover.”
“You know as well as I do they can sense you. Why don’t I take on this client, and you get on the next plane out of town. You will be in Ireland before sundown tomorrow.” The lion shifter moved into full protective mode.
She might have taken any other client up on his offer. Her people were rushing to Ireland from all over the world. Thousands of years ago, long before Jesus walked the earth, her people had been the guardians of the gods. They ruled the air. Protectors of the sky, the first line of defense before Mount Olympus. But when the gods no longer needed protection, her people and those of all shifters were banished to earth. Soon after Foniás—slayers—were sent to destroy all magical beasts. When the Minotaurs perished, Dike, the spirit of justice, decreed that the Foniás could only hunt the shifters during their month of the zodiac. So Jeffrey could only be hunted during Leo. And her people, Libra. Libra’s reign rose tomorrow at sunset, and with it her powers would increase but so would the possibility a slayer would find her. As of tomorrow, the slayers could sense and hunt her.
But—her client had never had anyone stand by him. He had been abandoned by everyone, and she would not be the next on the long list to do so. She’d told him she would be there, fighting in his corner every step of the way, and if that meant delaying her pilgrimage back to Tara, so be it. “I appreciate the offer.”
“You are too pigheaded for your own good. At least stay with me and my mate until you can fly out.”
“I’m not putting you or Sheila in danger. It’s only a thirty-minute drive home. Besides, what is the chance a Foniás is nearby? Unless they have a reason to hunt this area, why would they choose small town Virginia?”
“You don’t know what Virgo they were hunting who might have led them here. The truth is, until they make their move, you won’t know.” He stood. “Wrap this trial up and get the hell out of Dodge. And call your prime and explain the situation.”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Funny. But you know this isn’t a joke.” He moved to the door and offered her a pointed look. “Besides, you know damn well you are old enough to be my mother.”
“Now, who is being funny?” Her phone rang, saving her from saying any more. The caller ID registered the DA’s office. She waved him out and answered the phone. “Daniel, we need to talk.”
“Hello to you, Teagan.”
She could imagine Daniel Menzker sitting at his desk, determined to drag out any conversation with her. Next, he would demand they meet in person to discuss the case. “Good evening, Daniel. Better?”
“You wish to discuss the tape?”
She sat up straight. “You got a copy as well?”
“I did. Do you have any idea who might have sent it?”
She did—the meek Hispanic woman who worked at the convenience store. Not that she would tell anyone, but she suspected the woman wasn’t in the country legally. “Don’t care, only happy it surfaced. What are your thoughts now that you’ve seen it?”
“It’s compelling. I want to reevaluate the first tape.”
She turned in her chair to look at the skyline. “I hoped you would say that.”
“At the moment, this only proves he wasn’t in the car by ten o’clock. It doesn’t prove he didn’t steal it to begin with.”
“It removes some of the charges.” She spent the next few minutes debating her side. The DA agreed to look into the situation more in-depth, but his research would leave her client in jail for a few more days. She wanted to hit her head against the brick wall. He droned on as she watched the sun lower to the horizon. In twenty-four hours, her powers would expand for a month. She usually spent that time in the safe zone of the Libras, researching old cases. She’d sent three boxes of files ahead weeks ago.
“Aren’t you supposed to be heading out on vacation?” he asked.
“I was, but this took precedence.”
“Obviously, if your client is innocent, we need to get him out as soon as possible. Let’s get this settled so we can get you on that plane.”
“We’ll chat tomorrow, then?”
“I can look over that first tape now, and meet you later for drinks at the Tidewater?” She respected him as a lawyer. Daniel was fair and able to admit when he was wrong about a defendant, but nothing about the man attracted her as a person.
“I need to meet with my client.” One of the many things on her to-do list. She also needed to call her prime and explain her delay. Almost no one came to the sanctuary late. They all came days before, ensuring their safety.
“Why get the poor fellow’s hopes up?” Daniel’s voice pulled her from her musings.
“Because sometimes a little hope goes a long way.” Once she replaced the phone in its cradle, she grabbed her briefcase and gave the room one last glance. It took only a few minutes to walk the half block to the city courthouse that housed the local jail. Just enough walking time to send a text to her flock and let them know she would be delayed a day or two so no one would worry unnecessarily. She strode into the lobby where a detainee fought tooth and claw to get out. Two officers struggled to keep the man under control. “Ms. Rees, stay clear.”
Standing on a bench in the corner, her back pressed against the cold stone wall, she tried to make herself invisible. Too late, she saw the danger and screamed, “He’s going for your gun.”
In what seemed slow motion, the man grabbed the officer’s gun, pushing him to the floor, and everything went still. She could hear the perp’s heart beating way too fast and knew he was a shifter. Not raven. She would have sensed her kind and, although Libras had their bad elements, they were rare. Not lion. Again, she knew how to recognize them, Jeffrey had taught her the telltale signs: sniffing the air, prowling as if they owned the world. This was a variety of shifter she had never come across.
The rage radiating from the man became tangible. She feared he would shift at any moment. Two choices lay at her feet. Try to reach for him as one shifter to another and hope he would calm or try and get as far away as possible before all hell broke loose. The first meant she could be outed along with him, but if she chose the second, two innocent officers might be killed.
About to open her mouth, she paused when the door opened and a large biker pushed another man in cuffs to the side before coming up behind the gunman. In a second, he’d encircled the man’s neck with his arm, elbow under his chin, and squeezed. As the man’s eyelids closed, the biker whispered what she thought was the word for sleep in Greek.
“He’s all yours,” the stranger announced, letting the gunman fall in a heap. He turned the man he had thrown aside. “You stay put.”
The other man nodded.
“Thanks, Archer.” The older officer climbed to his feet, hands shaking.
“Right place, right time, Richard.” Archer slapped the officer on the shoulder on his way toward her. He extended his hand. “Ma’am.”
Placing her fingers into his palm, she jumped as a spark zapped between them. The sizzle running through her had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with being in the presence of her mate. Channeling years of training to show no emotion, she gave him a half smile and allowed him to assist her down from her perch. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure—Ms.?”
“Rees, Teagan Rees.” She pulled her hand from his.
He peered at her through slitted eyes. “The public defender?”
“Yes.” How would this man know anything about her? She would have remembered meeting him.
“I have recommended a few of my fugitives contact you. Not this one. He is guilty as hell.” He turned to his prisoner. “Come on, Maddox. Step up, and let’s get you processed.”
Every nerve ending screamed for her to stay with her mate. But, if they were meant to be, he would be here when she returned in late October. He hadn’t shown any outward sign of being affected by her. But then, had she? Unlike many other shifters, ravens couldn’t smell their mates. In fact, they didn’t smell a great deal of anything. Only physical contact brought awareness. This close to Libra rising, perhaps he was as leery about showing himself as she was. Jeffery had told her of shifters who could hide who they were. Could this man possess that power? Why hadn’t she met him before? Could another raven hide his presence from her?
“Ms. Rees, what can we do for you,” the desk officer asked.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she stepped up to him. “I need to see my client. And, no, it can’t wait till morning.”
The officer smiled. “Not a problem. Which client?”
“Felix Austin.”
“Follow me, and I’ll have him brought out.” The young cop led her to the familiar utilitarian space. Although she tried to focus on her client, her mind raced to the man in the lobby. She both prayed he would be gone by the time she was done and worried he would leave. But, if he wasn’t her kind, how would that work?
Perhaps, if she took her time with her client, the man would be long gone by the time she emerged, and she wouldn’t have to think about him again. To embark on a relationship hours before Libra’s reign would be dangerous and ill-advised. Thanking the officer, she took her seat and opened her briefcase. Best to focus on facts and the gray walls around her than tall, dark, and handsome somewhere out there.
What in Hades happened? Archer rubbed at his still-tingling palm. Never in his very long immortal life had he experienced a sexual spark as powerful and intense as he had from a mere touch. In an instant, his life both exploded and came into focus. “Hey, Holden?” he asked, sidling up to the police officer in the corner of the booking area.
“What’s going on, Archer? Haven’t seen you around here in a couple of months,” the middle-aged man said, only at the last looking up at him.
“Had a fugitive to chase in California. What’s the deal with Defender Rees?” He indicated the interview room with a jerk of his chin.
“You talking about Teagan Rees?”
“Yes?” Was there more than one?
Holden shrugged and returned to his paperwork. “What can I tell you?”
“Is she single?”
“Oh, it’s that kind of interrogation, is it?” The man chuckled goodheartedly, suddenly showing interest. “She’s single, as far as I know. Never heard of a mister, but there could be, I guess. She genuinely cares about her clients. Her family owns some big law firm down south, Atlanta, maybe, or Birmingham. Not sure why she chooses being a public defender over the family business.”
“Any gossip around the courthouse?”
“Nothing.” Holden hmphed as if the thought surprised him. “She comes in with a no-nonsense approach and fights for her clients. When she’s in court, we need to have an airtight case, or her client’ll walk.”
“That piss you off?”
“It should, but most of the time her clients are proved innocent, anyway. I mean, they all come in claiming they didn’t do it. Nine times out of ten, it appears her clients didn’t.” The other man shrugged, reaching for the phone as it rang. “Mayfair County Police.”
Archer had no reason to stick around. He’d caught his fugitive in the nick of time. By tomorrow night, he wouldn’t have been able to sense the bastard. His phone pinged with an alert from his bank account, stating his bounty had been paid. Taking a breath of crisp evening air, he replaced his phone into the inside pocket of his leather coat. Each step hurt as he made his way to down the stairs to his pickup. After a good night’s sleep, he would ride his bike up into the mountains. Until the moon rose again, there would be little tracking he could do. Even if he caught the scent of a fugitive, the chances he could apprehend the person before the Virgos’ month ended would be slim.
His people, the Foniás, Greek for slayers, were the original bounty hunters invested by the gods to track down the paranormal creatures. Of course, it was these same gods who had unleashed the creatures onto mankind. So, for thousands of years, he’d tracked down the Zodiac Shifters. But, as with everything dealing with the gods, there had to be a catch. Foniás could only track shifters during the month of their reign. He could track the lions during Leo, mermaids during Aquarius and, starting tomorrow, the ravens during Libra.
If shifters were truly evil and killed without remorse, it stained their soul, leaving them open to trackers like himself. Unlike most of his kind, his caste tracked down only those who did harm. If a shifter lived a good life, he saw no need to end it. But he had no qualms about taking down those who meant harm to humans or other paras.
Centuries ago, the Zodiac Shifters had started to become more powerful and harder to control. Unlike most beings, they possessed the power to kill gods. It’s what the shifters had been bred for: to fight off the gods of other countries. But, inadvertently, the gods had created weapons of their own destruction. Some Foniás killed indiscriminately. They didn’t care if the shifter was elderly, young, or pregnant. Archer killed only those who were a danger to humans and other shifters. He hunted lawbreakers and brought them to justice.
The vast majority, he took to the human authorities, collected his ransom, and moved on. But those he deemed unredeemable, he terminated. He once made the mistake of not killing a ram shifter who later escaped and killed again. He vowed he would never repeat that mistake, and, in two thousand years, he hadn’t.
He stared up at the stone building, debating the need to stay against the desire to run. Never in his long, immortal life had the desire to fuck a woman until neither of them could walk been so strong. When he touched her hand, his cock had come to full and hard attention. Something within him had sparked, like a knife to flint. He half expected the walls around them to burst into flame.
Perhaps, instead of riding his Hog through the mountain roads, he could spend the day between the sheets with the sexy-as-hell public defender. The more he thought about it, the harder he got, and the surer he was, the right decision would be to bed her. Get her out of his system and move along.
An hour later, he leaned against the bed of his truck, staring at the stars above. The final moon in Virgo. For more years than the Christian calendar counted, he’d lived by the moon and its movements from one sign to another. A loud creak brought his attention to the door. Silhouetted by the soft backlight of the station, his angel stood. She stretched before staring up at the sky, head thrown back.
“I did wonder if you were ever coming out,” he said, careful not to spook her.
Her head snapped down, and her dark, almost-black, eyes met his. “Why are you still here?”
“Were you hoping if you waited long enough I’d be long gone?” The idea she might have done so amused him. Pushing off the truck, he met her at the bottom of the steps. “I see you did.”
“Is there something you needed?”
“I hoped you would join me for a drink. Perhaps dinner?”
“I don’t know you.”
“Archer Galanis.” He reached out a hand. She stared at it before shoving hers into the pockets of her suit coat. “Burned, didn’t it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Our touch sparked like a match.”
Her eyes widened. “Perhaps dinner would be a nice idea.”
“How about the bar on the corner?” He didn’t want her changing her mind. “The Tidewater?”
“Anywhere but the Tidewater. Too many cops and lawyers.” She glanced at her watch. “There’s an all-night diner on the main route south of town.”
“The Silver 24?” Though he had driven past the small restaurant, he had never thought to go in.
“That’s the one. The eggs are horrible, but the coffee is amazing.”
“Can I give you a lift?” he asked.
“No. I’ll meet you there in fifteen. Order me some pancakes and a decaf coffee.”
“So the pancakes are safe?”
“Very.” Her smile hit him square in the chest. “See you in a bit.”
Jumping into the driver’s seat, he met his reflection in the rearview mirror. Fuck. What was he doing? He hadn’t felt this much interest in over a thousand years. And he had been heartbroken for centuries after it all fell apart. He didn’t need involvement, didn’t want it. But, damn, he wanted her.
The middle-aged waitress, whose hair refused to stay in the barrette on top of her head, finished taking his order when the door opened and Ms. Rees waltzed in. “Hey ya, Teagan. Long night in the office?”
“Aren’t they all, Jessie?”
“The usual?”
“Actually, I already ordered for her.” He stood, waiting for her to slide into the atrocious orange vinyl booth. So she hadn’t chosen this because it was out of the way as much as it was her usual hangout.
“Like that. I see.” Jessie tapped her pen against her teeth. “Well, only a good reason would keep you from Ireland.”
Jessie stepped behind the long breakfast bar and picked up a full pot of coffee. Archer had long ago stopped believing in coincidence. His people assumed Libra’s safe zone was in Ireland, somewhere around the Hill of Tara.
“Ireland?” he asked.
“Yes. My family reunion in Dublin.”
“Have you been before?”
The waitress returned with the steaming pot. “Coffee?”
“To Ireland? Every year.” Teagan’s voice soft and distracted, she held her cup up to be filled then set it back on the table. “Thank you.”
After topping Archer’s mug up, Jessie left them alone again. Running his finger around the rim, he asked, “Every year?”
“Hmmm, what?” Confusion washed over her face. “Oh, well, for the last couple.”
“You must love Ireland a great deal to go back all the time.” Or be a Libra shifter heading home.
Her smile hit him like a bolt of lightning again. “Me gram.” Where did that brogue come from? “She can’t travel. So, all the fam come to her.”
“Why now? Why choose the end of September?” He leaned back in the booth, using his years of practice at looking nonchalant while getting important information from the other person. “Why not in high summer?”
“It’s Gram’s birthday. So we all try and be there for it. Looks like I might miss it this year, though.” The Irish accent faded, replaced by the American one he first heard from her. “She is getting on in years, so I hate missing it. But my client needs me.”
“The one you met with tonight?”
“Yep. It looks like not only will I have spent my birthday with him, but my gram’s, too.”
“When was yours?”
“Last week.”
Virgo. He relaxed a bit. “Happy birthday to you.”
“Thanks.” She giggled, cheeks flushing. “Please don’t sing.”
“Promise. Trust me I would sound like a T. rex if I tried.” Her discomfort was refreshing. “I won’t even ask your age.”
“I’m proud to announce I’m thirty.”
“She said that last year, too, and the year before that.” Jessie placed plates of pancakes and a metal carrier with two different syrups in it before them.
“Fine. Thirty-three.” Teagan glared but cut the anger with a quick grin. “See if I leave you a tip.”
“Don’t worry, Jessie. I have you covered.” He pulled a ten from his pocket and slapped it on the table.
“Oh, whatever you need, sweetie.” Jessie winked at him. “You two yell if you need anything. It’s my break time.”
“I know where everything is.” Teagan waved her away.
“You come here often?”
“I think I eat here more than in my own kitchen. Perhaps because I hate cooking.”
“Do you really hate cooking?”
“Only because I’m really bad at it.” She laughed.
And with her laughter, the overwhelming need to take her into his arms and kiss her senseless flooded back. “The pancakes are good,” he muttered, shoving a bite into his mouth.
“What about you? Are you only here because of the man you brought in?”
Time to be vague. “I travel a great deal. When bail bondsmen have a tough case, they sometimes call me in. But I do seem to come through here on a regular basis.” And wasn’t that odd. For a small town, they had an unusually high fugitive rate.
“How long are you planning to be in the area?”
“I should leave tomorrow evening. I have about four files to choose from. Unfortunately, none require travel to Ireland.”
“That’s a shame.” Her dark eyes took on a sultriness he hadn’t been prepared for. “But then again, if it were in Ireland, you would get no work done.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I believe neither of us would take a step outside my bedroom.”
He choked on his coffee.
“Sorry. Was I too blunt?”
“Simply took me by surprise.” His little attorney didn’t play games. He could see why she was so well respected. At that moment, his cock very much respected her.
“I’ve never been good at the whole flirting thing, and being coy isn’t my style.” She shrugged. “I waited inside, hoping you would leave, but you didn’t, and the chemical attraction between us isn’t going to go away. You are leaving tomorrow and, with any luck, I’ll be flying out in a few days. When I’m forced into a situation, I always ask myself the same question. In a week, a month, or ten years, what decision will I regret more?”
“O. K.” Two letters were all he could get through his lips.
She leaned over the table, her lips inches from his. “By morning, I will regret not having sex with you. And I believe I’ll regret more with every day that passes.”
“Done with me?” If he kissed her now, he would have her well-tailored skirt up to her hips in ten seconds flat. So, instead, he settled for pulling the pen from her hair and watching the raven locks cascade down.
“Just getting started.” She kissed him, and his world tilted on its axis, everything he thought he knew shattered like a mirror falling to the floor in a million pieces. The love, protectiveness, and attraction he felt for his first wife paled in comparison to the emotions coursing through his veins. The small voice within him, the one he listened to when handing out sentences to shifters he tracked down, screamed mine.
“Get. Me. Out. Of. Here,” she panted.
Throwing down more money than necessary, he grabbed her hand and led her out of the diner. “Are you sure?”
“Very.”
He stopped at his vehicle. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this. You don’t know me.”
“I live my life following my instincts. Besides, if the police officers at the station speak highly of you, and they speak highly of no one, usually, then I have to trust them. Jesse also watched us walk off.”
“Your place or mine?”
“I have a better idea.” She climbed into the passenger seat of his truck.
He settled behind the wheel and followed her directions out of town. Eventually, she guided him down a dirt road that led to a pasture. The headlights illuminated the large field with its bald spots littered with empty beer cans. In the center lay the ashes of a fire. “What is this place?”
“It’s where the local kids drink and party in the summer. No one comes out this way during the week. Tomorrow night, after the football game, there’ll probably be about forty teens dancing around a bonfire and, at eleven, the cops will break it up.”
He gripped the back of her neck, bringing her face close to his. “Should I expect the cops to come out and break us up?”
“Not unless we become so loud the widow in the farmhouse up the road can hear us.”
“Challenge accepted.” No more words were needed.
He kissed her deeply, and her tongue danced with his. She stoked the flames he created. Not breaking the kiss, she struggled out of her suit coat. He reached down and adjusted the bench seat back until they had enough room for her to straddle him. She fought the restrictions of her tight skirt. Soft skin goose pimpled under his touch. He inched the skirt up her thigh and over her hips to allow her the ability to open her thighs.
This, he thought, is what it must be like to be a human teenager. Hormones raging as all-consuming lust filled every thought and sense. He worked the buttons of her blouse through their holes, brushing his knuckles over the plump orbs of her breast, relishing the way she arched into his touch in a silent request for more. But, at the moment, there was too much to explore and too many clothes between them to linger on one area—yet. He had all night to learn every inch of her body, and he would take every second allotted to him.
She fumbled with the button of his jeans, and though her lust fueled him, self-preservation insisted he ease the zipper down himself. Redirecting her hand to the buttons of his flannel shirt he managed to get his pants open enough to free his aching cock. The heat emanating from the apex of her thighs threatened to singe them both.
Condom. Hell. “Hold on,” he demanded, leaning over and fumbling with the glove box latch, cursing when it wouldn’t open. “You are not helping. Stay still.”
She wiggled against his cock, laughing when he growled. Finally, the compartment fell open with a crash, but the gold foil packet sparkled like a beacon. With experience honed since the device’s invention, he sheathed himself in time for her to rise up and lower herself on his engorged cock. He groaned, holding his need to come at bay. Never, absolutely never, had he cursed the need for a condom. He wanted, no, needed to feel her skin to skin. But he would never watch a child of his grow old and die again. Damn, the need to fill this woman with his seed nearly overwhelmed him.
She rode him, single-minded in her pursuit of pleasure while he clenched to prevent his own orgasm from overcoming him before she could find hers. He gripped her ass, forcing her to take him deep. Every downward motion brought her moans louder until she threw back her head and cried out. Soft inner walls clamped him hard enough to push him over the edge. When he thought he couldn’t take any more, she continued pushing on through a second climax until she finally collapsed on him, giving him the release he so needed. Relishing the contact, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest.
He might be in a heap of trouble. She could become addicting. Who was he fooling? He was already addicted.
“Give me a second,” she mumbled against his shoulder.
“Take all the time you need,” he whispered into her hair, but a chill went through him. He had an eternity, but she had but five or maybe six more decades if she was lucky. “What do you say to moving this to the bed of the truck so we can stare at the stars?”
“Yes, please.” She climbed off, and he fought the need to pull her back into his arms. He would allow himself one night with her and in the morning he would leave. Reaching behind him, he pulled out a blanket and sleeping bag. Not a great deal of padding, but it would give some.
Lying on his back with her warm body pressed against him, he stared at the stars. Twinkling lights he knew like the back of his hand suddenly appeared brighter. “I love being out in the country. I hate when I am stuck in the city for weeks on end. The lights make it impossible to see the beauty of the night sky.”
“It’s what I miss when I’m in Ireland. I get so few evenings where I can go out and just stare at the heavens.”
He wanted to ask her so many questions about her life, family…hell he wanted to know all about her but, in the end, he stayed quiet. Learning more about her would make leaving in the morning all the harder. A rustling sound brought him up to a seated position. His eyes well-adjusted to the night, the sight of a deer a few feet away made him smile. He put a finger to her lips and pointed over the edge of the truck. Together, they watched the deer, followed by two more, pass them.
He stared long after the last deer disappeared into the tree line while Teagan reached up and traced the tattoo on his back. Fuck. He gazed up at the moon. There was no way they could be together again without his explaining what he was. The tattoo would give it away.
“This is beautiful.” Her fingers continued tracing the circles around the center of the sun interlocked with the moon. Within the two outermost rings lay the ancient symbol for each of the zodiac signs. “Odd, the Virgo is faded, yet the rest of the tattoo is so crisp.”
He made a show of looking at it. “I’ll get someone to touch it up.” In less than twenty-four hours, the Libra sign would glow red, and the Virgo would return to its dormant black status. Each day after that, the Libra sign would fade, much like Virgo had.
“This must have taken forever, it’s so intricate.” Her fingers burned and at the same time soothed. If he waited until morning to say goodbye, he might do something stupid and ask her to stay with him. “Why choose the Zodiac?”
“It’s a bit of a family tradition.”
“Your whole family has this tattoo?”
“They do. Even worse, we are all bounty hunters.”
She leaned back on her elbows. “I know all about the pressures of being in the family business. On both sides of the pond, my family seems predisposed to being lawyers.”
“All lawyers?”
“No, there are a few judges and some in law enforcement. If we were to have a family tattoo, it would be Lady Justice. My brother bucked the tradition, at first. He went into the military to be a pilot.”
“What happened?”
“The idiot got airsick. They had him transferred, and he ended up in law school.” She lay all the way back, stretching her arms over her head.
Lying beside her, he took the opening to kiss her. If they only had until the sun rose, he didn’t want to waste time talking. He wanted to make memories to take with him.