Broken Heart 09 Only Lycans Need Apply by Michele Bardsley Page B

lot . . . and wondered if that experience had occurred because Karn was waiting in the shadows for me. Why hadn’t he just taken me then? Why go through the trouble of kidnapping Dove if he wanted me for . . . well, whatever?
    Ack! What to do? What to freaking do? Call the police? And tell them some stranger claimed to have one of my students, who was also my best friend—er, my only friend?
    And what was the deal with Doriana calling Karn a vampire? And him calling her a mermaid? I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around it. Didn’t mermaids live in the sea and trap sailors and command Krakens? I had no idea. I really needed to brush up on my sea mythologies.
    Being outside in the dark made me antsy, so I hurried toward the parking lot. Somehow, the Mercedes represented safety. I would get into my car, drive to Dove’s, and tell her about my evening. We would laugh, and then break out the vodka.
    Lots and lots of vodka.
    I ran down the sidewalk, grateful once again for having parking lot privileges. The Mercedes was within sight when a very large man stepped out of the shadows. He was well dressed, and for some reason, I noted the Italian leather loafers that he wore to complement what was obviously a tailored suit. The man flashed a not-so-nice smile.
    I skidded, and whirled, only to find my path blocked by another large man. He also wore a very nice suit, a burnt orange that complemented his dark skin. His scalp was shaved, but he had a narrow goatee. He wore mirrored sunglasses, and the smile he offered was just as nasty as his friend’s.
    I shot off to the side, and my feet had barely touched the grass when I felt myself yanked upward into a pair of steel-banded arms. I batted at him, but it was like smacking marble.
    “Karn requests the pleasure of your company,” said the man in a pleasant English accent. My struggles didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.
    “I should’ve known he had minions!” I cried. I continued to slap at the arms holding me.
    “Not minions,” said the other man, who came closer. I noted the scar that bisected his left cheek, and the fact that he had one blue eye and one brown eye. His brunet hair was short and spiky, and he was clean-shaven. And very, very pale. “Partners.”
    He was American, and if I wasn’t mistaken, had the light twang of the South in his voice. Partners? Hah! If these two thought Karn was the type of guy who had partners, they were morons.
    “Let me go!” I yelled.
    They both laughed, not in a diabolical, evil way, but in a way that suggested I’d just told a hilarious joke. And actually? That kind of laughter seemed a lot scarier in this situation. I continued to kick shins and punch arms, but really it was useless. He was a statue. He didn’t even have the courtesy to pretend I was doing any damage. And did I mention I wasn’t a delicate flower?
    “I see you’ve detained our guest.” Karn walked out of the shadows, dabbing at his bloodied lip with a linen handkerchief. “Your friend is lucky, Dr. Jameson. I let her live . . . although she may be limping for a while.” He flashed a cold smile, and I noted that his split lip was healing even as I watched. I couldn’t help but think of Theodora Monroe’s book, and what Doriana had hissed at him.
    Vampire.
    Karn folded the cloth and slid it into his pants pocket. “Merfolk are notoriously vicious. It’s why I avoid the sea.”
    I said nothing. I couldn’t begin to comment on his strange assertions. Besides, my captor was squeezing my middle, and it was difficult to draw enough breath to talk.
    “Now. Where were we? Oh, yes.” Karn strode forward, eyed me with a relish that made my heart stutter. Then he raised his fist and hit me in the jaw.
    My head snapped back, and pain exploded. I saw a burst of tiny white stars.
    And I fell into the deep dark of nothingness.



Chapter 9
    Dove
    S adly, it was not my first time to be locked in the trunk of a car.
    It was my third.
    The first