Hard As Steel: A Hard Ink/Raven Riders Crossover (1001 Dark Nights) Read online

  HARD AS STEEL

  A Hard Ink/Raven Riders Crossover

  By Laura Kaye

  1001 Dark Nights

  Hard As Steel

  A Hard Ink/Raven Riders Crossover

  By Laura Kaye

  1001 Dark Nights

  Copyright 2015 Laura Kaye

  ISBN: 978-1-940887-30-2

  Foreword Copyright 2014 M. J. Rose

  Published by Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Book Description

  Hard As Steel

  A Hard Ink/Raven Riders Crossover

  After identifying her employer's dangerous enemies, Jessica Jakes takes refuge at the compound of the Raven Riders Motorcycle Club. Fellow Hard Ink tattooist and Raven leader Ike Young promises to keep Jess safe for as long as it takes, which would be perfect if his close, personal, round-the-clock protection didn't make it so hard to hide just how much she wants him--and always has.

  Ike Young loved and lost a woman in trouble once before. The last thing he needs is alone time with the sexiest and feistiest woman he's ever known, one he's purposely kept at a distance for years. Now, Ike's not sure he can keep his hands or his heart to himself--or that he even wants to anymore. And that means he has to do whatever it takes to hold on to Jess forever.

  About Laura Kaye

  Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense. Laura’s Hard Ink series has won many awards, including the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Romance Suspense of 2014 for Hard As You Can. Her upcoming Raven Riders series debuts in April 2016. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day. Learn more at www.LauraKayeAuthor.com.

  Also from Laura Kaye

  Click to purchase.

  The Hard Ink Series:

  Hard As It Gets

  Hard As You Can

  Hard to Hold On To

  Hard to Come By

  Hard to Be Good

  Hard to Let Go

  Hard Ever After (1/19/16)

  Author Acknowledgments

  When Liz Berry called and invited me to participate in the 1001 Dark Nights project, I couldn’t have been more thrilled. Getting to work with passionate, creative, amazing people has been one of my favorite things about being a writer, and everything about 1001 Dark Nights delivers that and more. So my first thanks must go to Liz Berry, M.J. Rose, and the other fantastic Dark Nights authors. I’m so glad to get to be a part of this with you and to bring my readers more stories from the Hard Ink—and new Raven Riders—worlds.

  Next, I must thank my Avon editor Amanda Bergeron for helping me make Hard Ink the amazing experience it’s been and for allowing me to contribute a Hard Ink story to 1001 Dark Nights. Everything about working with Amanda has been this author’s dream come true. Thanks, Amanda!

  My next shoutout goes to the awesome Jillian Stein, an amazing friend, blogger, and social media manager for 1001 Dark Nights. You bring such fun and grace to everything you do for me and so many others, and I really appreciate it.

  As always, I’d never finish a book without the encouragement and support of writer friends Lea Nolan, Stephanie Dray, Christi Barth, and Jennifer L. Armentrout. My publicist KP Simmon and agent Kevan Lyon are amazing and indispensable parts of my team, and so often help me make what I do go as smoothly as it can. Thanks, too, to my husband and daughters for always pitching in to help when deadlines loom—you guys are the most supportive family ever and I thank you for that from the bottom of my heart. I appreciate all of you so much!

  Finally, I must thank my Heroes for being so awesomely generous with their time and friendship. And, last but not least, I thank the readers for taking my characters into their hearts and allowing them to tell their stories again and again. ~LK

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  1001 Dark Nights story

  The First Night

  by Lexi Blake & M.J. Rose

  Table of Contents

  Book Description

  About Laura Kaye

  Also from Laura Kaye

  Author Acknowledgments

  Foreword

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Also From 1001 Dark Nights

  Rising Storm

  An excerpt from Hard to Let Go by Laura Kaye

  Special Thanks

  One Thousand and One Dark Nights

  Once upon a time, in the future…

  I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.

  I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and

  the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast

  library at my father’s home and collected thousands

  of volumes of fantastic tales.

  I learned all about ancient races and bygone

  times. About myths and legends and dreams of all

  people through the millennium. And the more I read

  the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered

  that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually

  become part of them.

  I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher

  and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I

  would not be telling you this tale now.

  But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off

  with bravery.

  One afternoon, curious about the myth of the

  Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to

  see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar

  (Persian: شهریار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then

  sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written

  and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,

  the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand

  women.

  Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived

  in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged

  places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had

  never occurred before and that still to this day, I

  cannot explain.

  Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have

  taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can

  protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to

  p
rotect herself and stay alive.

  Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.

  And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a

  point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.

  And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that

  he might hear the rest of my dark tale.

  As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new

  one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before

  you now.

  Dedication

  To the readers, for wanting more Hard Ink! You guys rock hard. So hard.

  Chapter 1

  Jessica Jakes had been lusting after Ike Young from almost the day she met him, back when she was a newbie piercer at Hard Ink Tattoo and Ike first came looking for a job as an artist. Which meant she should’ve been thrilled that her thighs had been wrapped around his hips for nearly an hour. Except she wasn’t in his bed. She was on the back of his bike. And she was running for her life.

  The Harley’s roar ripped through the warm May afternoon as they drove country roads, piercing through farmlands and forests. But Jess couldn’t begin to appreciate the scenery. Not when her whole world was falling apart. She hugged her arms tighter around Ike’s broad chest, and he gave her hand a squeeze like he knew she needed it.

  She did.

  Ike banked the motorcycle to the right, pulling into a narrow gravel drive sheltered by trees. Jess wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. All she knew was that they’d ridden about forty-five minutes west of Baltimore into the rural rolling mountains near where Ike’s motorcycle club, the Raven Riders, had their compound. Around a sharp bend, the sparkling green-blue water of a lake further down the mountain came into view. The water quickly disappeared behind another copse of trees before they reached their destination, a tiny white house with a detached garage behind it.

  With a columned front porch, dark-red front door, and brown stone chimney and walkway, the place sat sheltered in the shade of several tall, old trees, and had a quaint charm about it. For the first time since she’d learned that she was in danger, Jess smiled. Because hard-ass, no-nonsense biker man Ike Young had a cute little cottage. Who would’ve thought?

  Ike parked, killed the engine, and gave Jess a hand off the bike. She was still wearing a grin when she lifted the helmet from her head and shook out her black hair.

  “What’s funny?” Ike asked, eyeballing her as he scrubbed his hand over his bald head.

  Jess gave Ike a long, appreciative glance—and there was so damn much to see. Besides being way over six-feet tall, Ike had a black abstract tribal inked onto the left side of his head, the sharp blades of another abstract tribal reaching out of the collar of his black T-shirt, and tattooed sleeves running down both muscled arms. He was a feast for her eyes. One that her hands and mouth had always longed to join.

  “Nothing’s funny. Your house is just so…cute.” She released her helmet into Ike’s big hand.

  He frowned as he looked at the house, like he was trying to see it through her eyes. “It’s not cute. It’s a damn cabin.”

  Jess smirked. “Okay, well, it’s a cute cabin then. Do you even fit inside this place? Because standing next to it, you look even freakishly bigger than usual.”

  Of course, most everyone looked big compared to Jess. At five foot one inch tall, she made up for in snark what she lacked in height. But that was okay, because she liked big. Ike’s kinda big.

  Ike shook his head and gave her a droll stare, then turned to pull her duffle from a leather saddlebag on the back of the bike. He hiked her bag over his shoulder. “House rules for as long as we’re here,” he said, staring down at her with those piercing, dark eyes. “One. No leaving without my permission—”

  “Where would I even—”

  “Two.” His eyebrow arched, and he nodded toward the porch, beckoning her to follow. “If anyone comes to the house, stay out of sight.”

  Jess climbed the two steps and waited while Ike unlocked the door—at three different places. Under any other circumstances, she’d have teased him about being overly cautious, but given her current situation, those locks seemed more reassuring than funny. “Anything else, boss man?” she asked with more bravado than she felt.

  “Yeah.” He pushed open the door, then stood aside and gestured for her to go first.

  She stepped inside, her eyes struggling to adjust to the dimness. The house was warm from being closed up, the air still.

  Ike turned on a lamp, casting golden light over the small first floor. The living room consisted of an overstuffed brown couch facing a rustic stone fireplace. A flat-screen television hung over the mantle. A console table sat behind the couch, and not too far from that a two-seater wooden table made up the entirety of the dining room. With its white appliances, cabinets, and Formica countertop, the galley-style kitchen was old school all the way, but clean and neat. Brown paneled walls, wide plank floors, and exposed wooden beams made the house feel like the cabin Ike said it was.

  Still cute, though.

  A series of clicks brought Jess’s gaze to the locks on the door.

  You’re safe, Jess. You’re with Ike, out of the city, away from…whoever the hell broke into your house and tried to grab you. Just breathe.

  Right. Breathing. Check.

  Except, she couldn’t help but feel that she’d brought this whole damn situation on herself. Still, how the hell was she supposed to know that the man she’d picked up at a bar last Friday night had been a bad guy intent on using her to get to her friends? Just thinking of it made her skin crawl and her stomach toss.

  “Three,” Ike said, apparently not realizing she was having a mini-meltdown in the middle of his living room.

  “Three? I might need to write these down,” she quipped, hoping her voice sounded lighter than her chest felt. Because Jess hated to be scared. She despised feeling helpless and cornered and trapped. Once, she’d fallen apart and let fear get the best of her.

  Never again.

  Ike was in front of her in an instant, a scowling, unamused wall of muscle and ink. “I’m not fucking around here, Jessica. Take something seriously. For once.”

  Sweat dampened her neck under her long hair, and anger lanced through Jess’s chest until her bones nearly vibrated with it. Anger about the danger Jeremy and Nick Rixey—her employers and friends for the past four years—were in. Anger about the fact that their tattoo shop had been bombed and closed…until God only knew when. Anger that her own house was a shambles, too, after a middle-of-the-night invasion that sent her scurrying like an animal into the crawl space at the back of her bedroom closet.

  Anger about being targeted and used and hunted by the very animals that had attempted to hurt her friends.

  It was all too damn much.

  “Wow, Ike. Thanks for clarifying how serious this situation is. Because I was really confused about what the guys with the guns ransacking my apartment last night meant. So much clearer now.” She crossed her tattooed arms over her chest and nailed Ike with a glare. Anger felt so much better than fear.

  Ike’s gaze narrowed, but then his face relaxed and his shoulders dropped. “Fuck. Didn’t mean to—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” she said, blinking the sting out of her eyes. No way was she crying in front of Ike. He already treated her like an overprotective big brother as it was. And that was really freaking annoying because it meant her fantasies of climbing him like a tree and having her wily way with him weren’t ever coming true. Unrequited lust sucked big hairy donkey balls. “So, what’s three?”

  “No cell phone, no e-mail, no using credit cards,” he said in a gentler tone. “In fact, give me your cell. Just to be sure.”

  The only reason Jess didn’t gripe was because she knew enough about Nick and Jeremy’s über-scary mercenary enemies to know they could probably find her easier than she wanted to think about if she didn’t stay off the grid. She fished the smartphone from her bra and smacked i
t into Ike’s palm.

  His eyebrow arched as his gaze moved from the phone to her breasts and back again.

  “What?” she asked, more comfortable with him ogling her boobs than giving her that serious, concerned look he wore a moment ago. “I was afraid it would fall out of my back pocket on the bike.”

  Ike shook his head and slipped the cell into the pocket of his jeans. Which immediately made Jess jealous of her phone because her hands would burrow the fuck into those jeans if he gave her half a chance.

  But alas…

  “Anything else, warden?” she asked.

  “You’re not funny,” he said.

  “I’m a little funny,” she said.

  “You’re a little pain in my ass,” he said.

  Jess schooled her expression. Because she wouldn’t be surprised if there was more than a little truth behind his words. She and Ike had worked together for years and become friends, but all this was way, way above and beyond. When the scumbags who’d broken into her home finally left last night, she’d been too scared to come out of the crawl space behind her closet and hadn’t been sure who she should trust. The police were out because Jeremy and Nick had learned that the authorities were in bed with at least some of the bad guys who’d attacked Hard Ink. It was mindboggling to believe that an international drug ring that had injured Nick and killed six of his Special Forces teammates in Afghanistan over a year ago had spilled over into Baltimore. And that Nick’s investigation with his surviving SF teammates that had been operating out of the Hard Ink tattoo shop had exploded all over Jess’s life. But that’s exactly what was happening.

  Crouched in the dusty darkness of the crawl space, she’d finally settled on calling Ike. Given his protectiveness of her, his all-around bad-assness, and that he already knew all about the Rixeys’ troubles, he’d seemed like the natural choice. But when she’d called, she’d never expected the barely restrained rage that vibrated off Ike as he gently coaxed her from her hiding place, nor the way he tugged her into his arms and just held her once she was out. And she’d certainly never expected him to put his whole life on hold like this. For her. “Yeah, well,” she said, forcing the thoughts away. “I’ll try harder next time.”