Untitled Book 2

Praise for the

Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club

series

Dragon's Lair

“
Dragon's Lair
proves a badass chick can tame even the wildest of men. . . . Not to be missed. A biker book unlike any other . . . [with] a heroine for strong-willed women and an MC of hot bikers. Chantal Fernando knows how to draw you in and keep you hooked.”

—Angela Graham,
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author

“
Dragon's Lair
was witty and fast paced. A delicious combination of badass biker men and laugh-out-loud humor.”

—Bookgossip.net

Arrow's Hell

“Cheek-heating, gut-wrenching, and beautifully delivered!
Arrow's Hell
took me on the ride of my life!”

—Bella Jewel,
USA Today
bestselling author

Tracker's End

“Fernando's vivid characters burst onto the page, . . . pulling readers into their world immediately and completely. This tightly told tale will leave readers eagerly waiting for the next installment.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“The charismatic characters have captured my heart. . . .
Tracker's End
is my favorite book in this series.”

—
Smut Book Junkie

“Don't miss out on the Wind Dragons MC series. . . . Chantal can really pull off the sexy times and give you some new BBFs to add to your list!”

—
The Literary Gossip

To Natalie Ram,

For being the very best friend a girl could ask for.

Thank you, as always, to Abby Zidle and Gallery books!

To my agent, Kimberly Brower, I'm so lucky to have you! Thank you for everything you do, as always. I know I can always count on you, and I'm so grateful.

A big thank you to all my beta readers—the women who are always there for me on a daily basis.

Arijana Karcic—thank you for all you do for me. You're seriously the best and deserve the world.

Thank you to my parents for helping out whenever I need them, I appreciate everything you do for me, and to my three sons for being patient when they know their mama has to work. I love you all so much.

FMR Book Grind, thank you for everything; I appreciate all the hard work you all do for me! Rose Tawil words can't express how much I love you!

They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.

—Edgar Allan Poe

“H
ELLO?”
I say into my phone distractedly as I throw back another shot.

I have no idea who could be calling me, since I'm at the clubhouse and everyone is here, but I always answer my phone—it's a habit. If one of my brothers needs me, I'll be there, day or night, drunk or sober. Even if I'm drunk, and it's late at night, I'm not going to complain.

When I hear Talon's voice on the other end, however, my good mood and easy demeanor disappear. There's only one reason the president of the Wild Men MC would call me, and it's a moment I've been dreading.

“We need to talk,” he says. I stand up and move away from the others so I can have this conversation alone.

I walk out front and stand by my bike, admiring her as I ask, “What do you need?”

He's calling in the marker I owe him, I know it, and I just hope he doesn't want me to do something fucked-up. Recently, there was a little trouble involving another brother's old lady,
Bailey. We had our hands full, and Talon stepped in to help by keeping the troublemaker involved, Amethyst, in his clubhouse while we did cleanup. Bailey's ex, Wade, who is her daughter Cara's biological father, tried to use them to get money from the Wind Dragons MC. Luckily Irish was there. He ended up stabbed, and Wade was killed. Just another day in the life.

Of course, nothing is free, so I gave Talon my word that I'd owe him a favor, one he could collect at a time of his choosing. My honor requires me to do whatever he needs, even though I can't stand the guy and I'd rather be doing anything else right now.

Like, fuckin'
anything
.

However, I hate owing anyone, so I'm eager to get this over and done with.

“Pack a bag,” Talon says on the other end. “You'll be gone for a week.” He doesn't sound smug, or even like he's enjoying calling in my debt. In fact, he sounds rather solemn. Why, I have no idea, but I guess I'm going to find out.

“Do I need to bring anything?” I ask, wondering what weapons I might need. What the fuck did he want me to do for a week? Go with him on a run, maybe?

“Nope. I'll meet you at Rift tomorrow around lunchtime and explain everything.”

“Okay,” I reply, curious now.

We both hang up and my mind wanders with possibilities. I'm glad he chose Rift because there's no way I'm going to his clubhouse and he's not welcome here. We may both be bikers, but we're still from two different worlds, and those worlds don't mix. When I joined the WDMC, the Wild Men MC were our enemies, and even though it's not like that anymore, they aren't
exactly our allies either. We own Rift, so he's actually giving me the power.

Very interesting.

“Everything all right?” Sin, my president, asks as he walks outside and spots me staring down at the phone in my hand.

I slide it in my pocket and say, “Yeah. Talon's calling in his marker. I'll be gone for a week.”

Sin stills at that bit of information, then closes the space between us. “What does he want?”

“I'll find out tomorrow—meeting him at Rift.”

He puts his hand on my shoulder. “If you owe him a marker, we all do. Call me anytime—you need anything, I'm there. We're all there.”

“I know,” I say, nodding.

And I do—the words don't even need to be spoken out loud. I've been in this club for many years and seen lots of things along the way. I was just a prospect when Sin became president, and I earned my way to being a full-fledged member not shortly after. This club is my family, my backbone. Everything that I am. I don't intend on ever getting out, and I look forward to working my way up the ranks.

That's what the Wind Dragons are all about: a brotherhood based on loyalty and acceptance.

We aren't saints, but the intention is there. We do what we have to to protect our own.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

“I'm going to go enjoy my last night of freedom for a week,” I say, lightening the mood.

Sin cracks a smile and says, “The brunette?”

I shake my head. “The blonde.”

He laughs and walks with me back inside the clubhouse, where I regain my seat and refill my glass. I call over the blonde I was eyeing and pull her onto my lap, wrapping one arm around her while the other hand nurses my drink. I see Arrow speaking to Sin before coming to sit next to me, not even glancing at the woman I'm holding, or any other available woman in the room.

“When do you leave?” he asks, looking me in the eye, tapping his hand on his knee. I fight the urge to smile. Sin sure passed that bit of info off quick.

“Tomorrow,” I say as I squeeze the woman's ass. It's a nice one, round and firm.

“You want me to go with you?” he asks, glancing away. “I'm sure Talon won't give a fuck if there's an extra man there to help, and even if he did, fuck him. He wouldn't dare say shit to me.”

“No,” I tell him quickly. “It'll be fine. I'll call you if I need you though, brother.”

The last thing Arrow needs is to get into shit with Talon, who has some weird friendship that no one really fuckin' understands with his woman, Anna. Yeah, no more drama needed in that situation.

He nods and stands.

“You going home?”

“Yeah,” he replies, lifting his chin at me. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

I nod, appreciating the fact that he and any of the men are just a phone call away, no matter what I need or what shit I need help getting out of. After Arrow leaves, the men start to clear out. I stand with the woman still in my arms, ignoring her girlish squeals, and carry her off to my room.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but I'm sure as hell gonna enjoy today.

*  *  *

“You're kidding me,” I say slowly as I stare at Talon in distaste. “Why the fuck can't you or one of your men do this?”

Talon looks away, his white-blond hair covering his eyes as he looks down into his drink.

“No one wanted to. And instead of making one of my men do it, I thought, why the fuck not make it your problem?” The bastard actually grins. “Easy way out. And it's an easy enough task. You stay with her at the house, guard her for a week, keep her out of trouble until we put the fuckers that are after her in the ground, and then you go back home without owing me shit.”

“So it could go for longer than a week?” I ask, grinding my teeth.

“If it does,” he says, taking a sip of his whiskey, “I'll send one of the men to swap places with you. You owe me only a week. That's fair, yeah?”

“Who's after her?” I ask him. “And why?”

His lips press into a tight line before he replies. “She's innocent, Vinnie, but her father isn't. Some people are trying to make her pay for the shit her old man's done, but I'm not going to let that happen.”

It was a vague answer, and I'd have let him get away with it if it didn't affect me and how I handle the job at hand.

“The more I know, the better I can protect her.”

“Her father is an accountant,” he says, not looking happy about giving up added information. “He's in prison for fraud
and embezzlement. Shayla worked for him, helping him with accounts or whatever he needed, except she didn't know and still doesn't really know just what kind of dodgy shit he was up to. She's not a certified accountant, she knows only what he taught her, which is fuckin' convenient for him. That's all you need to know. Keep her safe. Easy.”

“Don't you think I should know exactly who is after her?”

“It's not going to make a difference; the job remains the same,” he replies, making me want to punch him in the face.

Something's not sitting right with me. “If it's such an easy task,” I ask, “what the fuck is the catch? It's essentially a babysitting gig, easy enough. Hell, I'll crack a beer and watch some fuckin' TV for a week—sounds like a holiday.”