Resistance (The Variant Series #2) (34 page)

BOOK: Resistance (The Variant Series #2)
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Beside her, Kenzie tensed. Something about the large man set her friend
seriously
on edge.

“Excuse us,” said Kenzie politely, before grabbing both Cassie and Alex’s wrists and tugging them forward.

The giant and two of his friends closed in to block their path. The one with the pleasant smile didn’t move. In fact, he was now watching his companions with an expression somewhere in the neighborhood of concern.

“Oh,
Americans
!” said the brute. His two sidekicks sniggered, as though the giant had told some sort of joke. “Love it when we get tourists ’round these parts, we do.”

“Doesn’t happen often enough, for my taste,” said the lanky redhead standing to his right. “Especially such fine beoir’s as
these
.”

The men made for an odd group: one tall and skinny, one short and squat, one a muscle-bound giant and the other…

Well, he seemed entirely out of place in such company—he seemed
nice
.

Kenzie narrowed her eyes up at the giant. They made another attempt to pass, but found their path blocked once more.

“Leaving so soon?” asked the giant. “The night’s still young.”

“Let them pass, Oisin.” The roadblock fixed the giant with an angry glare.

The air around them had filled with a strange static, causing the hair on Cassie’s arms to stand on end. Alex was bracing herself for a jump.

Cassie held her breath.

“Now, now, Thomas,” said Oisin with a sickening smile. He reached out to run a finger through Alex’s hair, but she jerked a step backward before he could. “We’re just having a bit of fun is all. No need to be—”

“I said,” Thomas took an angry step toward Oisin, “
Let them pass
.”

Oisin dropped his hand. He looked to Thomas, then snorted in disgust. Mumbling something under his breath, he took a step back, creating enough room for the three of them to file past.

When the girls were a good twenty feet away, the lanky redhead called out something in a language Cassie had never heard before.

Kenzie stopped dead in her tracks, a look of rage on her face. Schooling her expression into a smile before she turned, she whipped around and spouted off a lengthy reply in the same language.

Whatever it was Kenzie said had its desired affect. The look of shock on the lanky redhead’s face was absolutely priceless.

The look of anger on Oisin’s, however, worried her.

Smiling now, Thomas clapped a hand on Oisin’s shoulder and dragged his companion around the corner and out of sight before the giant could think up a reply.

Kenzie, satisfied, turned on her heel and strode toward the dark green door that was the entrance to McGinty’s pub.

“What did you just say to him?” asked Alex.

“The abridged version?”
asked Kenzie as they neared the bar. “I told him where he could stick it, then politely suggested that he kiss my ass. In Gaelic.”

Cassie arched a brow. She should ask Kenzie to teach her the “kiss my ass” bit at some point in the future. Might be useful in getting a rise out of Aiden, assuming he’d ever learned what the phrase meant.

He may have only lived in Ireland for a few years as a kid but, knowing Aiden, it was exceedingly likely that he’d at least learned how to
curse
in the language of his former homeland.

Kenzie reached out and grabbed hold of the well-worn brass handle, putting her weight behind tugging the heavy door open.

As Cassie strode past her, Kenzie said over the roar of music and conversation, “The phrase you’re looking for is
póg mo thóin
. Use it wisely.”

The inside of the pub was filled with warm air, low light and a mass of people. On a stage in the corner, a young woman sat with an acoustic guitar on her lap, singing sweetly into a microphone. Her voice was nearly lost beneath the sound of laughter and shouted conversations.

The bar at the back was made of dark, polished wood, lined with brass railings and surrounded by tall stools—all of which were occupied. The soft light in the room appeared to be radiating from a handful of hanging light fixtures and the two flat-screens at either end of the large room.

The place seemed pretty crowded for as late as it was. Last call couldn’t have been more than an hour away.

Scanning the crowded room, Cassie spotted Aiden sitting alone at the bar. After a nod to Alex, and a quick tap on Kenzie’s shoulder to grab her attention, Cassie led the way through the sea of warm bodies and sidled up to the counter.

“Cass!” Aiden grinned beatifically at her from his barstool. “What are you doing here, gorgeous? You look amazing!”

He pulled her in for a kiss which she returned, briefly, before placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back onto his stool.

Cassie scrunched her nose. “You taste like a distillery.”

She leaned over to get a better look at the glass sitting on the bar in front of him. Aiden’s tumbler was nearly empty, but judging from the color of the remaining drops—and the sweet, smoky flavor of his kiss—he’d been drinking whiskey.

“Where’s Declan?” asked Kenzie.

“He stepped away to go talk to some guy he knew,” said Aiden. “Murphy, I think his name was. Over by the stage.”

Aiden didn’t have to point Declan out.

Cassie only had to follow Alex’s numb gaze in order to find him.

There, in front of the tiny stage set up in one corner of the bar, the idiot in question was currently being
serenaded
by the beautiful brunette swaying atop the platform.

The girl had set aside her guitar and was now leaning forward, singing sensuously into a microphone, her mouth inches from Declan’s as she ran her fingers through his hair.

The crowd was cheering him on, while the girl on stage went further into her Jessica Rabbit routine.

Declan, meanwhile, was politely attempting to extricate the girl’s hand from his hair, smiling up at her but shaking his head, “no.”

Cassie snorted in amusement as she looked away.

And then she cursed.

While they’d all had their attention fixed on the stage, Alex had disappeared.

She was gone.

 

* * *

 

Alex pushed through the heavy oak doors and out into the frigid chill of the evening.

McGinty’s was positioned at the far end of a lonely road, facing out onto a small lot that dropped off slightly at the edges, where a large creek bed wound past and down around the side of the building.

It was the sound of the water that drew Alex off and to the left, away from the lights of the main road and toward the back of the building.

She sighed as she ambled alongside the flowing water, trying to push the image of Declan and the girl from her thoughts.

“What’s this here, then?” asked a voice from behind her.

Oisin and his two sidekicks—whom Alex had earlier dubbed Creep 1 and Creep 2—stood a few short steps behind her, smiling wide.

The nicer one, Thomas, was nowhere to be seen.

“I’d say our luck is changing,” said Creep 2.

Alex examined her surroundings. Lost in her thoughts, she had wandered to the back side of the building, far from the entrance and well out of sight of any potential foot traffic.

“Seems the lady’s a bit lost,” said Creep 1, the diminutive, slightly stocky one.

“Well, now,” said Oisin. “S’pose, we should help her, then.”

She could read a darkness in Oisin’s expression that caused her heart to sink and her pulse to race.

On instinct, Alex turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could toward the main road at the front of the building.

Oisin and the Creeps were faster. Cutting her off, they soon had her surrounded.

Creep 2, the redhead, grabbed her roughly by the elbow and swung her around, slamming her against the cement exterior of the building.

Alex fell to her knees in the dirt, coming down hard on her right wrist.

Stunned, Alex couldn’t get back onto her feet fast enough.

Instead, she found herself yelping in pain as the Creeps each took hold of one arm, yanking Alex mercilessly upward. They pushed her back until her shoulders met with the wall, then held her in place.

Oisin sniffed, wiping at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He was smiling.

“Now, now, girl,” he said. Alex turned her face away from Oisin as he hovered ever closer, his breath reeking of ale. “We were only trying to
help you
. No need to be
rude
.”

Stifling her growing panic, Alex forced herself to concentrate and consider her limited options.

She was going to get herself out of this.

She
had
to get herself out of this.

No one else knew where she was.

Using telepathy to send a call for help was out. Both times Kenzie had touched her that evening, she’d grabbed hold of Alex’s jacket-lined wrist.

But maybe if she dropped her guard and
thought
it
loud enough, Alex might just get lucky. If Kenzie was listening for Alex’s voice in the crowd, she might be able to hear her.

It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

Kenzie!!! Are you there? I need you!

Three agonizing seconds passed with no reply as Oisin looked her up and down.

McGinty’s was packed with bodies tonight. Odds were good Kenzie was doing her best to shut everyone out, right now—everyone, including Alex.

“Someone ought to teach you some manners,” said Oisin. “Think I’m just the man for the job.”

Two more telepathic cries went unanswered before she gave up and began brainstorming another way out.

With Creeps 1 and 2 clinging to her arms, teleporting was out of the question. If she jumped right now, she’d merely drag them along with her—and out herself as a jumper in the process.

Forming a sphere was also off the list, since her arms were pinned against the building and she had no way of throwing the destructive orb toward any of her attackers.

Which left Alex with only her self-defense training as a possible means of escape.

The only little hiccup with
that
option, was that Nate and Decks hadn’t exactly gotten around to teaching her how to escape the hold of multiple assailants at once, when both your arms were being held, and a man the size of a well-fed
ogre
stood blocking your escape.

Alex swallowed hard and bit down on her lower lip to fight back the tears that were burning behind her eyes. Her wrist ached beneath Creep 1’s ironclad hold. She had almost certainly sprained it during her fall.

And if a sprained wrist was the worst thing to come from this mess she’d found herself in, it would be a miracle.

Think, Alex

Think… What can you do to distract them? To trick them into letting you go?

Oisin had taken a step back, but was still hovering in front of her, grinning as he looked her over.

Should she attempt it? He was standing just close enough to try…

Before she could talk herself out of it, Alex kicked out, aiming her boot directly for Oisin’s groin.

He leaped back. The toe of her boot connected with his thigh, instead.

It was enough to piss him off, but not nearly enough to hurt him.

Instead of releasing her in surprise, Creeps 1 and 2 merely tightened their hold, causing Alex to cry out in agony when more pressure was placed on her injured wrist.

That was nothing, however, compared to the bright red explosion of pain that ripped through her cheek and the right side of her jaw in the next instant.

Oisin had backhanded her with enough force to bounce her head off the cement wall behind her with a resounding
crack
.

Alex’s vision swam in front of her, her right ear ringing loudly as her knees went slack.

“Hold her steady, lads,” Oisin’s voice floated from somewhere that seemed both nearby and, at the same time, very far away.

Still dazed from the first blow, Alex never saw the next one coming.

Oisin’s fist slammed into her side like an iron hammer, the punch glancing off her rib cage and forcing her to blow out a breath. When she attempted to draw the next, it came in a watery wheeze.

“Come on, Oisin,” said Creep 1, sounding nervous. “You said we were just going to have a bit of fun.”

“Never said nothing ’bout
harmin’
her,” added Creep 2.

“I said
hold her steady
,” barked Oisin.

Blood dripped steadily from the cut on Alex’s cheek into her mouth and down the side of her neck. It tasted like warm metal.

“Let. Her.
Go
.”

Alex blinked, trying to bring her surroundings back into focus. The pain blossoming across her cheekbone and behind her right eye was making it difficult to concentrate.

She was even starting to imagine things.

She
must be
imagining things… Because why
else
would she have heard Declan’s voice just now?

Alex had to hand it to her imagination, though. It had remembered the exact way Declan’s Irish accent snuck back into his speech any time he was angry.

And boy, was that accent
thick
right about now.

With no small amount of effort, Alex was able to turn her head toward the source of the imagined voice.


O’Connell
,” Oisin said the name like a curse. “This doesn’t concern you,
yank
.”

Alex’s heart leapt in her chest.      

She hadn’t imagined him. Declan was standing ten feet away at the end of the alley, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Let her go, Oisin,” said Declan, his voice dangerously low. “Do it right now, and maybe—just
maybe
—I won’t rip you to pieces with my bare hands… Maybe I’ll just settle for beating you
unconscious
, instead.”

Oisin’s laugh was a condescending bark. “I’d like to see you try
that, Declan,” he said. “Honestly, I would.”

Creep 1 allowed his grip on Alex to weaken ever so slightly. “Oisin,” he said, “Maybe we should—”

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