Ghost came up behind her and bent to whisper in her ear. “Sometimes your knight in shining armor turns out to be a badass biker in dirty boots.”
Undertaker got up off his stool and pulled Skylar off hers. Then he hooked an arm around her shoulders and the other around Shades’.
“Let’s take a walk.”
He led them out of the bar. Over his shoulder he ordered, “Somebody take out the garbage.” About half the brothers followed them, the other half dragged the man out the doors, dumped him in the street and continued drinking.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Blood stood on the street outside the bar and dipped his head to light up a smoke. His eyes on the little group as they walked off down the street. One of his brothers came to stand by his side.
“I’ve got a bad feelin’ about this, Blood,” Sandman murmured.
“What? We’re having a nice night out, and Undertaker’s in a good mood.”
“So you feel it, too?”
Blood rolled his eyes and chuckled. “You’ve had too many beers.”
Sandman started silently counting on his fingers and then grinned. “In dog beers, I’ve only had one.”
Blood suppressed a grin as he took a hit off his cigarette, his eyes following Skylar as she walked away in the distance. “What do you think of her?”
Sandman shrugged. “Don’t know. Why?”
“She’s hot, isn’t she?”
“Yeah. She’s also Undertaker’s daughter.”
Blood looked back at him and grinned.
Sandman shook his head. “You always did like a challenge.”
****
Undertaker, Mooch, Shades, Skylar, Ghost, his harem of women and a few other brothers prowled the streets of the Quarter. They walked down St. Peter to Royal and cut over to Pirate’s Alley coming out at Jackson Square and skirting it on Chartres and St. Ann, taking in the Cathedral as well as all the street artists selling their paintings, the tables of fortune tellers, and the painted artists doing impressions of statues. There was a man dressed as a cowboy painted up in solid silver. Skylar stopped to pose next to him, and Shades took her picture with his cell phone, her bright laughing smile lighting up the shot. They moved on, crossing Decatur and ending at Café Du Monde. They got a table and ordered café au lait and beignets. Skylar couldn’t hold back her laughter seeing half a dozen leather-clad bikers, their scruffy beards covered in powder sugar as they wolfed down the sugary treats, leaning forward so as not to let it snow sugar onto their cuts.
They eventually headed back to the bar to hook up with the rest of the club. Undertaker had taken a seat next to Skylar again, but he went back outside to talk to some of his guys and smoke a cigarette.
While he was gone, Blood moved onto his vacant stool.
Shades was turned the other way, talking to Ghost and hadn’t noticed.
Skylar looked over at Blood, admittedly a little nervous that he’d approached her. He smiled at her, and his eyes dropped to the feather boa she had wrapped around her neck. He lifted his hand and stroked down the feathers with the back of his f
ingers.
“I could think of some uses for that boa,” he purred in a deep voice.
Skylar looked back at her drink, trying to ignore him, which only encouraged him. She felt his fingers brushing the hair back from her face.
“Don’t go all shy on me, Princess.”
“Don’t call me that,” Skylar bit out, pulling away from his touch. Spinning on the barstool, she turned toward Shades who was leaning the other way, his head dipped as Ghost said something in his ear and nodded toward Blood. She’d never seen Shades head swivel so fast, his eyes narrowing on Blood, and then he was up and off his barstool, moving around her to get to Blood.
Skylar reached out her hand, trying to grab him, but he shook off her hold. Blood rose from his stool ready for the confrontation. As she slid off her stool to try to come between them, Skylar felt a solid arm wrap around her waist, and she was pulled back against a hard chest. She twisted to see her captor.
Ghost.