What did he know? “If they don’t exist, they should. You should see a doctor.”
“I’m fine.” She bent her head and brushed aside her hair with a curl of delicate fingers over her ear. “I know it sounds weird, but I think the bus sort of...nudged me to pursue a different life. When it hit me, I was flung against the street pole and banged my head. Had a bruise right here.” She tapped her temple. “But that faded within a few hours.”
A hit that could take away one’s memory had to have left a big bruise. Blade had a hard time believing it had faded so quickly. There wasn’t a mar on her skin. Another reason to doubt her story. And she could be allied with demons. What game was she playing?
“So here I am.” She narrowed her gaze on him. “Do you know me?”
He had to chuckle at that hopeful question. “Never seen you before.”
“I had to ask. I’m not sure if I’m from Tangle Lake. Everywhere I’ve been no one seems to recognize me. Friendliest person so far has been that asshole behind us tossing the darts.”
“Name’s Brock Olafson, and you should stay away from him if you value your safety.”
“Thanks. I got that ‘stay away’ feeling from him.” She sipped the beer and wiped off the foam moustache. “I thought visiting the scene of the accident would make something click in my brain, you know?”
“Well, if you want me to hit you upside the head...?”
“Does that work? The knowledge I have on that is it’s mainly been used in children’s cartoons and tear-jerker love stories.”
“I was kidding. So were you hoping asshole would pay your tab?”
“I, er...” She shrugged and focused on her drink.
Blade tugged out his wallet and laid enough cash on the bar to cover his and her tab. “On me,” he said. “If you don’t have memory, you must not have a job.”
“Nope. Not that I know of. There could be a cubicle that’s empty right now. Is the whole office wondering where I am? Do I have a big project due any day now?”
She didn’t look like a cubicle drone, but Blade couldn’t decide what kind of work she might have done. Her exotic coloring and flowing clothes hinted at a bohemian nature. And those sorts were usually musicians and artists. Maybe?
Why not go to the police? Her story just didn’t jibe.
“If I can ask, how do you survive?”
“I spent a couple days hawking raspberries at a farm stand just off Highway 35 and earned enough to eat on. And I have the truck.”
“You remembered you own a truck?”
“Uh, no. It was running and no one was using it, so...” She winced and tilted back another swallow of beer.
She’d stolen a truck. Blade was impressed. Pretty and devious. The woman had survival skills, that was for sure.
But she’d been hit by a bus and had stood up and walked away? Was she something beyond human? If her story was the truth, she had to be. He didn’t scent his own species on her. He could also scent when werewolves or demons were around. Faeries were a challenge.
He got nothing from her. Just plain human. A human who had attracted a shifter demon who had claimed she was their own.
“You’re not afraid the cops will remind you that you don’t own a truck?”
“I’m not sure what fear is, actually.” She offered her hand again to shake. “I should get going. I’m tired. It was nice to talk to a kind person for a while. Blade Saint-Pierre, right? Maybe we’ll run into each other again?”
“I’m in town a lot.” He almost offered his services if she needed anything, but...he’d learned his lesson with pretty women. They were nice to look at, touch and make love to. But getting to know them and caring about them? Wrong, just wrong. “See you, Zenia.”
She strolled out of the bar with a wave to him. And Blade remained to keep an eye on Brock.
* * *
A knock on the truck window woke Zenia from the first tendrils of sleep. She sat up on the front seat, knocked her foot on the steering wheel, swore and spied the dark-haired man peering in at her.
“Blade.”
After talking with him in the Blue Bass she’d assessed that he was a nice guy who had the compassion to worry about a complete stranger. But here he was again. And her heartbeats picked up pace. What made her believe she had any skill at reading another person’s intent? As she’d once suspected, had she gained a stalker?
She sat up to open the door, but paused. It was close to midnight. She had parked in an empty parking lot beneath a streetlight. A city park paralleled the lot, but no residential houses or businesses were nearby. It had seemed a quiet place to sleep through the night, but now her caution rose.
He hadn’t tried to touch her, as had the other creep in the bar. But something about this man was dark. Mysterious. And now the hairs on her arms prickled.
She turned the key backward to the accessories position, then lowered the window down two inches. “Yes?”
“You sleeping in your truck?”
She nodded. Wished she had an iron pipe, or even a wood bat.
“This is going to sound strange,” he said. “It might even put up your weirdo alarms again.”
“I haven’t completely lowered them, so give it a shot.”
“You’re welcome to park on my land tonight. Uh, it might be safer. Unless you don’t mind taking your chances with Brock.” He turned and cast his gaze across the parking lot.
Zenia followed his gaze and there, across the street from the lot, idled a big yellow Hummer rimmed in chrome. She couldn’t see inside the cab, save for the glimmer of burning cigarette embers.
“Is that the guy from the bar?”
Blade nodded. “I’ve been watching him watching you for about an hour.”
Zenia clutched her arms over her chest. “You’ve been watching me a lot today.”
“Sorry. Seems as though you need it. This is not what I normally do. I mean—”
“Stalk women?”
He nodded and shrugged. It was a sheepish kind of move that settled her worries. She wanted to trust him. She would allow herself to trust him.
“Where do you live?” she asked.
“Ten miles north of Tangle Lake. It’s secluded. Brock won’t follow you there because he’s afraid of me. We had...an altercation a few months back. But then, if you follow me, you do risk leaving the safety of town.”
Yikes. When he put it that way. And yet, as strange as Blade was, Zenia sensed the other option would see her struggling with the man across the street not long after Blade left.
“Maybe,” she said.
“I’m heading back to my truck. You can follow me if you want to. The drive is down a long forested road, just so you know. You can park in my driveway. Lock your doors. I won’t bother you. You have my word.”
“I don’t know if your word is good.”
“That you don’t.”
Was it fair or even rational to give him points for honesty?
“So you think you need to protect me from demons or something?”
“Beyond the very human Brock?” He shrugged. “You never know.” Blade shoved his hands into his front pockets. “Your choice, Zen.”
And he strode off toward the truck that