York (2 page)

Chapter 2

Three days later, York entered a too small bar and hid a wince at scenting sweaty bodies mingled with cigarette smoke and something that closely resembled sewage.  Monroe’s Intel was proving less than stellar; leaving York to follow his own leads he hoped would guide him to his target. 

Sidling up to the bar as discreetly as possible, York scanned the
room and his heart thundered to a halt.  “Shy?”
What in the hell is she doing here?
  She’d cut her hair!  Her once waist-length auburn locks were now shorn to a sexy little bob that framed her beautiful face. 

York’s eyes scanned the bar for
Leto and-- not finding him--York took a step toward Shy and froze. 

Totally engrossed in conversation with a tall, wiry man with pale
, dry hair that looked like a thin pile of hay sitting on top of his head, she hadn’t noticed his arrival.  The man reached for Shy and when he did, she pulled her arm back, balled her tiny hand into a fist and punched the man square in the face.

Immobilized by shock, York couldn’t believe that his little Shy had just attacked someone…
anyone! 
He remembered her as quiet and timid and…well, shy.  His moment of surprise was short-lived though as Shy jumped back out of the now angry and bleeding hay-hair man’s grip. 

If York thought he’d been shocked moments earlier he was outright stunned when Shy winked at the man before lifting a foot and kicking him hard in
the belly, sending the man doubling over, then to his knees as the air whooshed out of him in a great, “Oooomph!”

York was about to spring into action to defend Shy when she finally turned and faced him.  Their eyes locked, and
it
happened!  After years of waiting, hoping, and yearning… 

York’s gut wrenched as if he’d just been
slammed by a fucking semi.  Dropping to his knees, he tried to suck in an agonized breath as he heard a high-pitched whine and a flash of ethereal light winked off his halo, momentarily blinding him.

Curling his fist into his still clenched
abdomen, he roared as his incisors elongated.  He knew he was in public and should have better control, but he couldn’t hold the partial shift back.  He knew it!  He’d known it all along…Shy belonged to
HIM! 
Agony and elation seared through him in equal measure.  Even through the torment of affliction, his full lips curved into a smile.  York McDonnough finally found his Angel!

***

Watching the hot ass red-head fall to the floor, Sky Brookes was a little disappointed that instead of a knight in shining armor, he was obviously just some drunk guy who was too blitzed to even be able to stand. 
Damn shame! 
He was so her type.  Large and imposing with muscled arms covered in tats.  He had his long hair pulled back into a braid hanging to his waist while a matching auburn goatee highlighted a savagely hewn jaw.  She’d noted sea-green eyes before he’d fallen to his knees.

Dropping her eyes to the idiot gasping for air by her feet, she pulled her ankle away from the man’s wimpy hold and smiled to herself.  Unlike her twin sister, Shy, Sky refused to take shit from anyone.

When the back door of the bar slammed open and whistles began sounding, Sky raced for the front door, noting that Big Red was still down on all fours.  Her lips curved in a smile as she raced toward him with three police officers hot on her tail.  Not stopping she lifted one leg and stomped it on Big Red’s back, right between his shoulder blades as she used the man as a spring-board to vault herself over his still crouched form.  She felt him shift under her, but by the time he rolled and made a grab for her; she was already out the front door. 

Flicking a glance over her shoulder, her feet skidded to a halt when she saw Big Red roar up from the floor and tackle all three officers at once with his massive arms. 
Impressive…for a drunk!

The three puny officers bounced off the behemoth and landed on the floor, cursing like angry chickens in their native tongue.  When Big Red turned to scowl at her, Sky couldn’t help herself.  She smiled broadly and winked at him before blowing him a kiss then turning to race down the crowded street. 
Yum, tattoos and chivalry.

***

Locking eyes with Shy had York dropping back to one knee.  He gritted his teeth against the pain that seared him.  It was the most exquisite torture ever.

Slowly getting to his feet,
York used the Skin Walker telepathy known as the mystic, the mist for short, to quickly probe the area searching for Leto, Shy’s supposed mate.  When he felt nothing, he turned and stormed out the door as the police officers helped each other off the floor.  The last thing he needed was to end up in a Philippines jail while Shy was running around the sovereign state without protection.

In the street
, his eyes darkened as he partially shifted, utilizing the enhanced scenting ability of the grizzly.  He picked up a familiar feminine scent a fraction of a second before his nose was overwhelmed by the numerous street vendors and the food—if you could call it that—that they were pushing.  He sneezed before frowning down the street ignoring the numerous stares and outright gawks he earned. 

At six-seven
, he was easily the tallest person in the street, on the block, hell, probably in the whole damn archipelago!  His waist-length fiery red hair didn’t help either. 

Reaching up he pulled the braided rope of his hair over one shoulder.  He was glad he’d opted to bind it today
.  He didn’t want to think of the attention he’d get if he’d worn it down. 

Stalking off, he headed the direction Shy had run.  He’d find her and
Leto and confront his fellow Walker.  Shy wouldn’t spend one more night as another Walker’s mate.

Chapter
3

After cutting through several alleys and zig-
zagging a few blocks, Sky slowed her pace and looked over her shoulder.  Nothing. 
Thank God!
 

She lifted a shaky hand to her temple and winced,
Oh come on, not now!
  One of her migraines was pounding behind her temples, warning of its imminent arrival.  She eyed the street, knowing she needed to get to her motel ASAP before the migraine hit, and she lost partial vision in her left eye.  It was an ailment that had sprung up over her youth and had her parents so terrified of a brain tumor that they’d taken her to every specialist they could find.  Finally, after years of meeting with dozens of Doctors, enduring hundreds of tests, and countless MRI’s Sky had  been diagnosed with ocular migraines.  Similar to a regular migraine, hers were accompanied by temporary loss of vision in her left eye.  Sometimes the vision loss was partial and sometimes full, depending on the severity of the migraine.  The one throbbing behind her eyes now threatened to be of epic proportions, and she knew why.  Stress, lack of sleep, and caffeine all contributed to her migraines, and having been searching for her sister, Shy, for weeks she’d been surviving on long hours, late nights, and gallons of coffee.

Wincing, Sky rubbed at her temple and closed one eye hoping to ease the pressure building in her head.  She needed to get to her motel, take some aspirin, pull the shades, and sleep off the pain.

Hustling toward the seedier part of Quezon, she ignored the glances shot her way.  After four months in the city, she’d grown accustomed to the stares, whispers, and pointing fingers.  She didn’t blame anyone; she did stand out.  At five foot five, she wasn’t particularly tall, but taller than the average local.  Add to that her pale skin and shock of vibrant red hair and she was bound to draw some attention.

Turning a corner, she eyed her motel longingly.  She’d come to the think of her small budget room as home.  Furnished with the most basic of amenities, her stay certainly wasn’t a vacation, but
that wasn’t the intent.  Sky’s twin sister, Shy, had gone missing.  Their parents believed that Shy, a biology student, had taken an internship in the Philippines.  It’s what the lab in Montana had fed the family, but Sky wasn’t buying it.  No, she’d talked to her sister daily and when the calls suddenly stopped coming, and her own calls were ignored, Sky knew something was wrong.  She’d confronted her parents only to have them accuse her of attempting to travel to the Philippines to sabotage Shy’s career.  They’d always thought more highly of Shy than they had of Sky.  She couldn’t blame them.  Shy was a go-getter while Sky was the family fuck-up.  She didn’t mean to be such a disappointment, but that’s just the way things always seemed to turn out. 

Straight out of high school, Shy had enrolled in college while Sky had decided to work for a while.  She’d gotten a job as a bartender where she’d begun dating the bar owner.  The relationship was great at first, but things quickly fell apart.  Aaron
became verbally and emotionally abusive.  His failing business was somehow Sky’s fault, despite the fact that she’d worked for practically nothing and well-above forty hours a week.  Hell, she’d even let her apartment go thinking that if she moved in with Aaron, they’d save money by only having one rent to pay.  It wasn’t until four months into the relationship, and having endured the scuzziest apartment in existence, that Sky discovered Aaron hadn’t left her alone most nights because he’d been working double-shifts.  No, the two-timing sleaze ball was working double relationships. He’d kept Sky on the side while he’d had a wife and two kids tucked in nice and cozy at home.  Sky had been played a fool.  When she’d confronted Aaron, he’d actually had the audacity to be angry with her. Then he’d tried to get physical.  Sky despised an abusive man and refused to tolerate one.  Unlike safe and practical Shy, Sky spent the better part of her youth in the local boxing club.  Growing up a tomboy, she’d gone where the boys had gone and as luck would have it, the boys in her neighborhood flocked to the local gym.  When Aaron had shoved Sky and accused of her of knowing about his wife all along, she’d lost it.  He clearly hadn’t expected the straight left that she’d placed perfectly on his chin.  It wasn’t called the sweet science for nothing.  The hit was designed to crumple an opponent, and it had.  Aaron was out cold before he even hit the ground.  Sky had walked away and never looked back, but it didn’t mean she’d grown any more trusting of men.  Unfortunately, things had only gotten worse where men were concerned, and now she didn’t trust a man any further than she could throw him.  

Stepping into the lobby of the Great Western
Motel, Sky waved at the clerk behind the desk.  As usual, he ignored her, and she made her way through the dimly lit lobby to the elevator.  The place wasn’t nice by anyone’s standards, but it was a cheap home.  

Her fi
rst two weeks were spent in much nicer digs, but after she realized finding Shy was going to take more time than she’d originally planned, she’d had to lower her standards considerably.  Her room at the Great Western was only twenty bucks a night, and for that kind of price, she’d gladly ignore the cockroaches and rarely working shower and sink.

The elevator dinged on the sixth
floor, and Sky pulled the key from her pocket, wondering why she even bothered locking her doors.  The motel was practically vacant, and she couldn’t blame the tourists.  The torn carpet, stained curtains, and moldy bathroom weren’t exactly inviting, but the biggest deterrent was the noise.  The hotel faced Quezon Street, and Quezon was definitely a city that refused to sleep.  The traffic was always bustling and afforded Sky little opportunity for sleep, which totally sucked at times like the present when her head was pounding and all she wanted was dark and quiet.

Using her key, she had to jerk the handle up to get the door to open.  Stumbling into her room, her relief at being “home” was short
-lived.  The AC had gone out again, and her sixth floor suite felt like a molten thousand degrees.

Stalking to the small refrigerator near the bed, Sky jerked the door open and pulled out her lone can of Coke.  It was hot. 
And just what else had she expected?  The fridge hadn’t worked since she’d arrived and why she kept storing her food in the damn thing was lost on her.  She couldn’t wait to get back to the States.  Her first order of business—after celebrating with Shy—would be having an ice-cold sweet tea and homemade lasagna. There was nothing in the world Sky enjoyed more than piping hot, ooey-gooey lasagna with a crisp green salad and warm buttered rolls.  She was a sucker for pasta and with her funds practically nonexistent; she had little to live on after she’d stashed away just enough to get two plane tickets back to America.  Foregoing her favorite meal was the least of her worries.  In fact, her belly growled angrily at its recent lack of nutrition. 
Two days,
she thought ruefully.  It’d been two days since she’d eaten anything, and the hot Coca-Cola only seemed to cause her belly to churn, making her wish she’d gone without.

Crossing to the closet, she pulled the door open and yanked her
duffel bag from the top shelf before unzipping and rifling through it to find the bottle of ibuprofen she’d purchased upon her arrival.  A handful of ibuprofen chased down by hot Coke, and she headed toward the bathroom.

“Please work, please work, please work!” she chanted as she crossed to the shower stall.  What she imagined had once been immaculate white marble was now
cracked, chipped and covered with yellowish stains.  Twisting the knobs, Sky held her breath…   “FRIGGIN’ SHOWER!” she cursed aloud.  Another day in grime and filth. 

She quickly used the bathroom, washed her hands, and soaked a towel in the tepid water before rubbing it over her face and the back of her neck.  Her head was begging to pound
, and was growing fuzzy with the impending partial loss of vision that she knew was soon to come.

Tossing the towel on the sink, Sky returned to the room
, chugging the rest of her Coke, before crossing and opening the windows.  Noise assailed her, but some of the stifling heat eased with the barely there breeze wafting in.  Shrugging, she decided cool was better than quiet.  She jerked the curtain closest to the bed closed and toed off her sneakers before flopping on the thin mattress, ignoring the spring that jabbed her in the ribs.  Closing her eyes, she tried to relax but as usual, images of Shy in pain surfaced and had her squirming with guilt over surrendering her search over a migraine.  Tears flooded her eyes, but she choked them back,
Stay strong!  Don’t fall apart on Shy now!
  Sucking in a deep breath, she exhaled it just as slowly and tried to ignore the way her clothes clung to the sweat that beaded on her body and the way her short tendrils of hair stuck to her sweat dampened cheeks and neck.  

Twenty minutes later
, she’d fallen asleep to the cacophony of street traffic and her own muddled thoughts.