Read Close Protection for Free Online Page B

This was her bar, and no way was she going to hide in the office while some dumb-fuck pixies trashed the place.
    Shaking with nerves and indignant rage, she scooted around the floor to gather her clothes. The bra was long gone down the back of the sofa, so she hauled the shirt on without it. Her fingers moved at light speed, shoving buttons into whatever holes she could find as she slipped her shoes on, and then grabbed the skirt. So what if she’d gotten the shirt on crooked and her hair was a mess? If anyone noticed in the middle of what was going on out there, then they could just kiss her ass.
    A half-second pause was all it took for her to recover her dad’s old baseball bat from behind the door before she yanked it open to follow Zane out into the corridor. Instinct made her step back almost instantly. Not a moment too soon. A second later the gap where she had been was filled with flying pixie.
    Sticking her head out for a quick peek, she checked the coast was clear before stepping over the groaning form on the floor. Screams of rage and pain, and the clanging of pots and pans as they were used offensively, reached her ears from the kitchen.
    Lips set into a firm line of determination, Ashlee turned the other way toward the main bar. No matter what other measures Zane and his team had cooked up, her chef Alfonso had always maintained that his second calling was as a ninja. Sounded like he was having a ball.
    She pushed the remains of the door open and stopped dead. The bar was in chaos. Utter chaos.
    Pixies thronged the main area, where Zane held court in his wolf-man form. Snarling with rage, he took on what looked like twenty, turning and twisting as he lashed out with clawed hands and feet like some kind of furry version of Bruce Lee.
    As she watched, another pixie went flying in a graceful arc over the bar to take out most of the optics. She winced as he hit, shattering all the bottles in a melody of broken glass. Great. That was going to cost a damn fortune.
    Her gaze shifted to the corner of the bar. The customers who hadn’t already fled were crouched there behind Destiny. But the petite Dryad didn’t look so good. Instead of using her powers to attack the pixies, the wood of the bar itself had turned liquid and wrapped around her, glowing faintly pink.
    “Fuck…” It had to be a spell. There was nothing else it could be. Ashlee shot a look at the cowering customers.
    “Someone call the damn police,” she yelled as she turned toward the main fight.
    A pixie rushed her, murder in his eyes, but she was ready for him and hyped up on rage that Roth had dared to attack again. If she found that bastard, she was giving him the mother of all headaches. Swinging back, she let fly with the bat, clocking the pixie right up and under his jaw. The strength of her blow took him off his feet to land atop a table. It shattered under his weight.
    “All breakages must be paid for,” she quipped as she passed him. Skirting around the main battle with Zane, she got a glimpse of Roth the other side, a smug look on his handsome face. A face that wouldn’t be half as handsome when she got hold of him.
    A deep snarl warned her, and she side stepped another flying pixie, rushing across the debris-littered floor to reach Trent. The Gargoyle was still where he’d been stationed, trapped into stone form by a UV lamp at his feet.
    Spells she couldn’t do, but electrical appliances? Yeah, she was all over that like a bad fucking rash.
    Determination fuelled Ashlee’s muscles. She didn’t bother tracing the cord and cutting the power. Instead, she swung for the lamp with all her might. The bat hit the side with a bang, shattering the bulb and cutting the light at the same time. Lifted by the impact, the lamp left the ground, flying through the air to smash into the back of a pixie’s head.
    “Woohoo!” she yelled in triumph, fist-pumping as Trent’s bellows filled the air.
    Freed from stone, he waded into the fight like an