Mean Street, LLC by Gail Roughton

Author:Gail Roughton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: bounty hunters with a magical edge, reincarnated soulmates recycle love, vegas wedding on motorcycles, warlock and witch team take down crime, angel organization guards against rogue magic, archangel brothers battle, magic fights out of this world crime
Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.

* * *

Mom’s classy new champagne sheath safely tissued and bagged in the trunk, Stacy turned off Las Vegas Boulevard and headed toward the outskirts of Vegas.

“Last stop!” she announced.

“Oh, I can’t wait!” Mom pulled down the passenger visor to access the mirror and fluffed her hair again.

“Mom! It looks the same way it looked when you got out of the stylist’s chair!”

“I can’t embarrass you at your club, darlin’! Just checking.”

Stacy slowed, turned onto a state highway, rounded a curve and pulled into a drive sporting a large “Private Property – No Trespassing” sign.

“Voila!” She spread her hands in a flourish.

Mom’s eyes rounded like an owl’s.

“Uh—dear?”

“Ma’am?”

“This—uh—doesn’t look like a—uh—country club, somehow.”

It damn sure didn’t. The low cinderblock building, built for utility and not aesthetics, sat back off the dusty parking lot. Ten or twelve big motorcycles were parked in front, mostly Harleys but peppered with a few Hondas. Underneath the front row of windows stretched a billboard type sign. “Desert Troopers – Ride the Wind, Brothers!”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t realize you thought it was a country club!”

Like hell you didn’t! I projected out. God’s gonna get you for that one, little sister!

Look on her face is worth it, though, huh?

Oh, yeah!

“Oh, look!” I got out of the car quickly and pointed over to the line of parked bikes. Time to get Mom moving before she went into full shock. “Jackster and Moondog are here!”

And so was Micah and his new little friend. Over there, disappearing around a corner of the clubhouse.

On cue, the door opened. A big grin lit the face of the middle-aged guy in Desert Trooper colors standing in the doorway. He spread his arms and came toward us.

“Well, well, both my little Rambo girls! Ari, honey, good to see you!” He swept me up in a bear hug and swung me around.

“Jackster!” I hugged back as good as I got. “Good to see you, too!”

Stacy got her bear hug. “Mom, this is our good friend, Jack Hudlin. Affectionately known as the Jackster. Jackster, this is our mom, Grace Anson.”

Jackster thrust out his hand.

“Mrs. Anson, I sure see where the girls got their looks! Welcome to Vegas!”

Never let it be said Mom didn’t rise to a social occasion.

“Why, thank you, Jackster. Where’d you meet my girls, if I might ask?”

Jackster looked behind Mom and over to us quickly. We shook our heads violently. Mom didn’t need to know the details of our trip to Bike Week, for damn sure.

“Oh, we ran into them and their guys in Daytona. They were having a little—mechanical trouble. Bikers don’t leave brothers and sisters in a jam. Now, c’mon in! Place is a mess right now, the younger crew had a party last night. But they’re in there now cleaning up and we’ll be all set up for the wedding celebrations.”

He ushered us in. Yep, the place was a mess. But it wouldn’t be for long. Several club members wielded long brooms and several more were walking around with big trash cans.

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