Undeniable (The Druids Book 1) by S. A. Archer, S. Ravynheart Page A
Authors: S. A. Archer, S. Ravynheart
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the concrete of the alleyway. They got that far, before Joe turned on him. The arm that came at Granger wasn’t merely a fist aiming for his gut, as he’d anticipated. Nor was it a knife, which was where his thoughts went next, when he saw the glint of light. He gripped Joe’s wrist before he could complete the thrust, but it didn’t matter when he hit the trigger, and sent the barbs of the taser, shooting into Granger’s torso and shocking the living shite out of him.
That really did hurt.
It slammed him against the brick wall, as his body jarred and jerked with electricity, and then he dropped towards the ground. If not for the bulletproof vest, he would’ve taken the full shock, but what he did get was bad enough.
Already the young man from the front door came jumping down from the landing. As Granger was pushing himself up, the guy did a roundhouse kick and caught him in the side of the face with a foot, sending him tumbling.
Granger came up, rubbing the blood from his lip with the back of his hand as he turned towards the two men that were coming at him. “Is this how you blokes always have a conversation?” He growled, hardly down because of these cheap attacks, even if he was jarred by them. As he braced himself against the wall, he started to pull himself up again, but the guys didn’t have a chance to reach him. The back door slammed open and the young drummer came bounding out, shouting at them, “What are you doing? I gave you the signal that he wasn’t the guy!”
Joe glanced over at the kid and repeated the gesture that he’d seen. He made a cutting mark across his throat with his fingertips. “You did this.”
“I know,” the kid insisted. “It meant he’s not the guy.”
“It means to get rid of him,” Joe said in frustration.
“You guys need to get your signals figured out, before you go attacking people,” Granger said, but he was staring at the drummer now. At his face, which he would’ve recognized anywhere. And those ears sticking out from beneath his hair. The name of the band, “Fey Bangers” was emblazoned across his T-shirt. And heck, if it wasn’t true. This kid was the fey that had escaped the building with London. Now wasn’t that an interesting turn of events?
The youth made a frantic X-ing out gesture, like that could undo everything. “He’s not the vampire.”
“Yeah, I’m not a vampire.” Granger remained a little bent over, willing to play up the pain, and maybe throw some guilt their way. “So what the bloody crap was all this about?”
“If you’re not the guy who’s been after London, then what business have you with her?” Joe wasn’t apparently willing to concede that perhaps he’d made a mistake, as if perhaps Granger still might have had it coming.
“I’ll save that conversation for when I am speaking with her.” As much as Granger wanted to know more about this kid, now was clearly not the time.
As if conceding the fight, Granger stumbled out of the alleyway. Once he was clear, he straightened up some, making less of a show of the pain. On the wall outside the club he saw one of the band posters plastered onto the brick wall. He snatched it off, ripping away the corners that had been secured with tape. The poster even listed the band members’ first names and gave a website. How convenient. He glanced it over again, seeing the boy’s face on there, and the name ‘Malcolm’ scrawled below in a slasher font. “Gotcha.”
Chapter Twenty
With her arms each clutching a paper shopping bag, London slowed as she approached the outside of her building. Granger leaned against the back quarter panel of her Honda. His long legs stretched before him, and crossed at the ankles. His hands were jammed into his jacket pockets, and his head lowered, as if he contemplated his shoes. Only she knew that wasn’t what was on his mind, as he waited outside her home for her to return. As she slowed, he glanced up. She could only see the left side of
That really did hurt.
It slammed him against the brick wall, as his body jarred and jerked with electricity, and then he dropped towards the ground. If not for the bulletproof vest, he would’ve taken the full shock, but what he did get was bad enough.
Already the young man from the front door came jumping down from the landing. As Granger was pushing himself up, the guy did a roundhouse kick and caught him in the side of the face with a foot, sending him tumbling.
Granger came up, rubbing the blood from his lip with the back of his hand as he turned towards the two men that were coming at him. “Is this how you blokes always have a conversation?” He growled, hardly down because of these cheap attacks, even if he was jarred by them. As he braced himself against the wall, he started to pull himself up again, but the guys didn’t have a chance to reach him. The back door slammed open and the young drummer came bounding out, shouting at them, “What are you doing? I gave you the signal that he wasn’t the guy!”
Joe glanced over at the kid and repeated the gesture that he’d seen. He made a cutting mark across his throat with his fingertips. “You did this.”
“I know,” the kid insisted. “It meant he’s not the guy.”
“It means to get rid of him,” Joe said in frustration.
“You guys need to get your signals figured out, before you go attacking people,” Granger said, but he was staring at the drummer now. At his face, which he would’ve recognized anywhere. And those ears sticking out from beneath his hair. The name of the band, “Fey Bangers” was emblazoned across his T-shirt. And heck, if it wasn’t true. This kid was the fey that had escaped the building with London. Now wasn’t that an interesting turn of events?
The youth made a frantic X-ing out gesture, like that could undo everything. “He’s not the vampire.”
“Yeah, I’m not a vampire.” Granger remained a little bent over, willing to play up the pain, and maybe throw some guilt their way. “So what the bloody crap was all this about?”
“If you’re not the guy who’s been after London, then what business have you with her?” Joe wasn’t apparently willing to concede that perhaps he’d made a mistake, as if perhaps Granger still might have had it coming.
“I’ll save that conversation for when I am speaking with her.” As much as Granger wanted to know more about this kid, now was clearly not the time.
As if conceding the fight, Granger stumbled out of the alleyway. Once he was clear, he straightened up some, making less of a show of the pain. On the wall outside the club he saw one of the band posters plastered onto the brick wall. He snatched it off, ripping away the corners that had been secured with tape. The poster even listed the band members’ first names and gave a website. How convenient. He glanced it over again, seeing the boy’s face on there, and the name ‘Malcolm’ scrawled below in a slasher font. “Gotcha.”
Chapter Twenty
With her arms each clutching a paper shopping bag, London slowed as she approached the outside of her building. Granger leaned against the back quarter panel of her Honda. His long legs stretched before him, and crossed at the ankles. His hands were jammed into his jacket pockets, and his head lowered, as if he contemplated his shoes. Only she knew that wasn’t what was on his mind, as he waited outside her home for her to return. As she slowed, he glanced up. She could only see the left side of
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