A Throne of Skulls: An Urban Fantasy Series (Jean Jones, Bounty Hunter Book 1) by Riley Storm

Author:Riley Storm [Storm, Riley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: High House Press
Published: 2022-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“That was fun,” Michaela said, slurring her words in the seat opposite mine.

I glanced over at her for a brief second to make sure she wasn’t about to hurl inside the taxi’s interior, then resumed my watch out the window.

“Yeah, it was,” I said.

“Did you have fun? I had so much fun.”

“Lots of fun.”

My eyes scanned the side streets and the side mirror ahead of me. I didn’t experience the sensation of being watched again, but even still, as we left the club, I’d inspected the cab driver with my magic to ensure he was on the up and up, then I had him drive a ridiculous pattern of turns and backtracking to ensure nobody was following us.

Even after that, I still kept checking our trail to ensure nobody was coming after us. Especially as we entered Parkdale.

“No, I’m serious, JJ. I need to know, did you have fun tonight?” Michaela asked in that ultra-serious but not quite so level voice that drunk people get when they’re trying to act sober. That one where the words are slurred, and they can’t focus on you, but they have to have your attention.

That one.

I’d kept Michaela as safe as I could in the club, taking tiny sips of my drink while pretending to be plastered and making sure she came home with me. Normally, I wasn’t the “mother” type. My best friend was an adult woman. If she wanted to find a ride that wasn’t my cab, then she was allowed to. But not this night, not when I knew who ran the bar.

“All the fun with you,” I said, putting some emphasis on the word, knowing she would never pick up on the teasing in her current state.

“I’m so glad. We never have fun. We need to have more fun. Us—hiccup—us girls!”

Pause.

Here it comes.

“You’re my best friend, Jean. My best friend.”

“You’re mine, too,” I said, not even bothering to fight back my smile this time.

“Can we go back to the club? That guy was hot. I want his number.”

I rolled my eyes. At one point, when I’d gone to get a refill for both of us, I’d come back to her grinding up on one of the vampires in a most sexual manner. A quick motion showed him who I was, and when the song ended, he’d moved off, but Michaela hadn’t stopped thinking about him—or his anatomy—for the rest of the night. I tried to tell her he wasn’t going to give her his number, it was all just a tease to get people to come back to the club and spend more money, but she was too drunk to understand.

Magic hit me full in the face.

“Pull over,” I barked at the cabbie, who hit the brakes a bit too sharply, throwing us both against our seatbelts.

“Hey, buster, watch what you’re doing!” Michaela went on.

“Take her home,” I said to the cabbie, giving him more than enough cash—from Michaela’s clutch—to get the job done, as well as her address. I then took a mental snapshot of his ID.

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