The Concrete Angel (Concrete Angels MC Book 4)

“Something to Guard” Excerpt
The Concrete Angel
Copyright © 2020 Siobhan Muir
All rights reserved.

Flint

We got down to the bottom of the hills and I stopped at the light. I turned and tapped her on the shoulder so she’d look up.

Her hazel eyes met mine and I forgot what I needed to ask. Gargoyles usually didn’t covet much. We didn’t need more than a place to roost, a nice view, and adequate hunting grounds. Oh yeah, we were definitely carnivores. But we all were guardians of one kind or another and we defended treasure. Sometimes it was books or knowledge. I had quite a few friends who’d once guarded libraries and universities. Sometimes it was sanctuary like on mosques, churches, or temples. Other gargoyles loved treasure of the more traditional sorts and hung out on museums or banks.

I’d never had something to guard until Loki found me and asked me to be security for his biker club. He said I’d be the original Concrete Angel and the way he’d grinned told me he thought himself pretty funny. I wasn’t actually made of concrete, but my skin was damn near impenetrable by wood, steel, or another kind of stone. Made me very tough to kill and a great security guard for the club.

But the woman on the back of my bike made me want to chuck it all and guard only her. She was a treasure I’d never encountered and I didn’t even know her damn name.

“What?” She raised her eyebrows aware that I’d turned for some reason.

I blinked. Then raised one hand. “Where going?” Signing with just one hand made the question truncated.

“Oh, uh, my shop’s on the corner of north Taft Hill road and Laporte Ave. That way.” She pointed to the right.

I nodded and turned the bike to head down the snowy street. It wasn’t far from where we were, which was both good and bad. Good because she needed to get warm. Bad because soon she’d be off my bike and away from my body. And that made me want to turn around and haul ass the other way.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I’d known this woman all of thirty minutes, and I was already thinking kidnapping? I mentally shook my head and headed for her shop. We stopped in front of a stand-alone brick building with a Tudor-style wood addition to the second floor. It had a sharp A-shaped gable over the door and a weathered wooden plank sign that read The Herb Cabinette.

Cute, a play on herb cabinet. I parked the bike on the curb in front of the shop and paused, reluctant to let her go, but knowing she couldn’t stay outside.

She cleared her throat and swung her leg off the bike to stand on the sidewalk. “Thanks so much for the rescue and the ride. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” I dipped my head along with my hand. “Have a good night and be safe.”

She nodded and took a few steps toward the alley between her shop and the next building. But she stopped and turned, biting her bottom lip.

Hey, that should be my job.

I blinked. Where the hell had that thought come from? I didn’t even know this woman’s name or her pseudonym. It wasn’t like she was a prostitute used to meaningless sex meant to scratch an itch.

“Um, would you like to come up for a cup of tea?”

I didn’t know who was more surprised at her question, her or me, but it felt like she’d just given me the Apple from the Tree of Knowledge. A forbidden fruit that was too good to pass up. I turned off the bike and yanked the key out, swinging my leg over the seat. Hell yeah, I’d like some tea. And maybe a little more of this pretty woman who’d captured my attention.