Chapter Twenty One

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"I need to see her, Mac," Megan said, much more calmly than she felt. "I've been leaving messages for hours."

Mac didn't even consider not telling her. "She's downtown. We know where she is, but it's awkward to make contact at the present time."

Megan didn't need an interpreter. "Okay, so she's in a bar." She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sinking sensation in her stomach. "Or is it that she's gone home with someone she picked up?"

"No," Mac hastened to add, clarifying. "She didn't. She's still at the bar." He didn't think it was his place to tell her that this was the first time in months that Normani had been out to a bar, or that she seemed to have given up her penchant for one-night stands.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me which one," Megan stated quietly.

"The Hudson Arms," Mac said, indicating one of the seedier bars deep in the village. "Stark is inside somewhere."

Meaning Stark will recognize me if I show up, and he's worried about my reputation. "Thanks, Mac," Megan said, not caring in the least what anyone thought.

Thirty-five minutes later, Megan was standing at the bar, surreptitiously scanning the room. It was Friday night, after midnight, and crowded with women of all ages, mostly in denim and leather. She didn't see her immediately, but she did see Stark. Stark saw her too, although Stark did not acknowledge her in any way. A slight raise of the eyebrow was all that indicated she had been spotted.

She's getting good, Megan thought with approval. She stopped searching faces and allowed all of her senses to engage the room, feeling the damp heat of many bodies brushing against her skin; smelling the mixture of alcohol, cologne, and sex in the air; and hearing the murmur of the hunt swirling around her. She sensed rather than saw the ultimate huntress in the crowd.

Beautiful, wavy brown hair that flowed down her shoulders and back, a taut bronze body, and a piercing, searching gaze that evaluated, then discarded, possible partners. Finally, Normani's focus settled on an olive toned, lean warrior in tight blue jeans and a sleeveless black T-shirt. The modelesque woman must have felt Normani's appraising glance because she looked up and moved automatically closer to her. Megan didn't need to see any more. She knew exactly what would happen, and how quickly the capture would be consummated.

Not this time.

Megan moved quickly, reaching Normani just as the light-haired Amazon stretched out a hand to brush Normani's cheek.

Megan grasped the woman's wrist, firmly but not harshly. "Sorry, she's not available."

The woman attempted a show of bravado, stiffening as she turned to face Megan. "Oh yeah? Since when?" she said with a raised brow.

Megan's voice was low but steely. "Since right now."

There must have been something in Megan's demeanor that warned of impending danger because the other woman hesitated for a brief second, then melted swiftly into the crowd.

"Thanks a lot. You just ruined my evening," Normani said by way of greeting. She was secretly shocked to see Megan, and even more at a loss to explain her actions. It was the first time Megan had ever overtly interfered with Normani's private activities. As if that weren't enough, there was a coiled tension in her ex-security chief's body that was impossible to miss. If she didn't know better, she would've thought it was sexual.

"Ruining your evening was not what I had in mind," Megan rejoined.

Normani caught her breath but managed to respond evenly, "Oh? And just what did you have in mind?"

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