Archer (Reynolds Protective, #1)

by Rebecca Sharp

KEIRA

Detective Archer Reynolds.

Vampires were nothing compared to the demons I’d met—only men were capable of the kind of horrors that monsters could hope to achieve.

But it was the way his eyes raked over me, dark swirls of heat flickering in their depths, that were more dangerous than the weapon hidden in the small of his back.

Ranger

Gunner

Hu...

Wyoming.

I was scared to start over. Again. Scared to cling to the lifeline of hope that this would be the last time when that lifeline had been cut so many times before.

“Regrets are rocky. It’s hard to build a fresh start on them.”

Protected. It was a good thing. But sometimes, protection came in the shape of a cage. It kept bad men out, but it also kept me in.

His voice massaged all the knots of my life—knots in place to hold myself together.

I watched his head dip lower, every part of him—from his angry breaths to his taut body to his racing heartbeat—pulsing with the kind of life I wanted to leech.

Words were more effective than bullets. Bullets killed quickly. Words buried deep in your consciousness and would hold you hostage forever.

anger is just one symptom of becoming a prisoner.”

I was like a ship careening atop stormy waves yet unable to trust the safety of the shore.

I’d lived in danger so long, I wasn’t sure I knew what it felt like to truly be safe.

If there was one thing my life had taught me, it was to know the difference between something that was bad and wrong and something that was good and wrong.

His hands caged my face, imprisoning me in strong shackles.

I cataloged every inch of him, every memory with him from the last two and a half weeks, and then pinned them all to my mind like stars to a night sky. But these weren’t stars to wish or hope on, I knew better than that. These stars belonged to a constellation, untouchable—unwishable—but always there whenever I wanted to look.

Safety came at a price, and the price of protection would always be solitude.

A new owner meant a new person. And a new person meant something new to talk about.

This openness was another reason I’d left Boston. Here, guilt couldn’t sneak up on me without warning, and I could spot a secret a mile away.

Only a year younger than me, Hunter and I were almost the exact same height, same build, same light brown hair and green eyes.

Gunner, was the wild child of the group.

Like a rare jewel, each facet of her personality shone differently depending on the light.

Her tongue slid out, coating her lips with more armor for her lies.

Her smile flashed again, always bright enough to hide the secrets in her eyes.

There was only one thing that could keep me from her. And unfortunately for her, I wasn’t going to fall for the play dead card again.

my life felt like a string of impossibilities decorated with danger.

He’d looked over his shoulder for too long, it took only a couple months for me to realize he wasn’t capable of fully looking forward again.

You can only run forward while looking over your shoulder for so long before something has to give.

The price of safety—hers and mine—was secrets.

The shock of seeing me didn’t stand a chance against the anger he felt being lied to.

our youngest sister, Gwen,

I trusted them with my life, and I needed them to help me protect hers.

Ranger looked the least like the rest of us. His hair was lighter, longer, and in a constant state of chaos around his head.

Ranger’s superpower: his eidetic memory.

“It’s estimated that three percent of all mail sent is lost every year, but it is incredibly hard to determine in a lot of cases if mail is lost or stolen,”

She’d already come back from the dead. At this point, there was nothing else left to shock me.

the lines of winter began to fade.

Every inch of Wisdom held memories. For a time, I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing, so I joined the force in Boston. Coming back, I realized that good and bad, the memories were what made this place my sanctuary. A safe retreat.

I didn’t mind asking. It was having that knowledge that worried me—too

Her taste had been tattooed on my tongue for four years, and I’d long ago given up hope of anything ever removing it.

I wanted to argue with her. I wanted to protest that I’d broken the fucking rules to ease her pain. I wanted to yell that she’d begged for my kiss. And mostly I wanted to scream because I’d given it to her. I’d kissed her like a madman finally slipping into insanity.

Electricity buzzed through me like a swarm of bees, all stinging the spot where my skin connected with hers.

She trembled slightly. I still affected her. The thought fired and then instantly froze my blood. I just didn’t affect her enough to deserve the truth.

My head dipped closer like it was being pulled down in increments, straining against gravity it couldn’t fight.

Don’t think with your dick; that’s Gunner’s job.

This is my town—my home.” It held memories, but at least none of them had been tainted with her. Now, they were all at risk. And so was