by Tami Lund
“Speaking of being so vested, why the hell do you care so much what happens to her?” Rahu demanded.
Argyle’s body shimmered once again. And then he straightened his spine and looked Rahu in the eye.
“She is my daughter. And you’ve just ensured that the warlocks intent upon destroying her now know how to find her.”
Chapter Four
When Becca carried her morning coffee outside to sit on the patio, she noted that Aunt Pacey had added a new gargoyle statue to her collection.
Her aunt had quite the eccentric taste in lawn ornaments. She’d add a new gargoyle for a few months or years, and then it would disappear and another would replace it. The oddest part was, they were all so similar in style and coloring and features, why did she feel the need to upgrade so frequently? And why not try something different each time?
Becca studied the nearest one while sipping her coffee. Maybe her problem with the gargoyles was how boring they all looked. Gray, roughly hewn stone creatures that didn’t even resemble any animal in today’s world.
Maybe she needed to dress them up somehow; make them perky or pretty or something. When she went into work, she’d sort through the inventory, see what struck her. These stone statues were about the size of a small child; surely, she could find some cute kids’ clothes that would make them look less…drab.
Decision made, she sat on a cushioned chair and checked notifications on her phone. A text from Charlotte, letting her know that, according to news reports, no one from the brawl at the club was arrested or hurt enough to warrant a hospital visit last night.
That fight had been three, no, four on one, and the fact that Rahu had escaped without serious injury was both a relief and, frankly, damned impressive.
Not that she cared. Not that she should care, at any rate. She’d probably never see the guy again. And she didn’t want to. She wasn’t attracted to the jealous type, weird sizzling sensation notwithstanding.
Ignoring the uncomfortable pang in her chest, she began to make mental note of everything she needed to do today.
Clean the house, take inventory of the fridge to determine what I need from the grocery store, shower, tame the hair, dress, go to work…
“Hey.”
She jumped in her seat and upset her coffee cup.
“Oh crap, I’m sorry.” Rahu hurried over as if he would be able to do anything about the spreading brown stain on her pajama bottoms.
Oh God, she was in her pajamas. No makeup. Hair pulled back into a ponytail. Hadn’t showered yet. She could only imagine what she looked like through his eyes at the moment.
“Um, hi. Good morning. I, er…” She tilted her head and studied his face. He had a cut, swollen lip and a black eye that was turning several shades of green and yellow, like it was days or a week old, rather than, what? Twelve hours?
“Wow, you heal fast.”
He touched the eye and winced. “Yeah. Lucky, I guess. How are you feeling this morning?”
She shrugged and stared into her mug. “Better than you, obviously.” And then she glanced up sharply. “Er, how did you know where I live?”
He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his navy cargo shorts. The action pulled them down far enough on his hips that she was presented with a view of muscular, tanned skin between the hem of his T-shirt and the waistband of his shorts. Oh man, did he seriously have those V-shaped muscles that were so beautiful and so rare, at least on the few guys she’d had up close and personal experience with?
“It turns out we have a mutual friend,” he said.
She dragged her gaze back up to his face. “We do? Who?”
“Petra Sharmell.”
“Seriously? How do you know Petra?”
He shrugged. “We’re from the same colony.”
“Colony?”
He shook his head. “City. Town. Detroit. We’re both from Detroit.”
Becca chuckled. “Detroit’s a big town, but I know what you mean.”
“You do?”
“Are you from Detroit, as in just visiting New Orleans, or are you a transplant?”
“Just visiting.”
She frowned. “So you came over this morning to let me know we have a connection?”
He arched his brows, and she cleared her throat. “Um, anyway, what are you doing here?”
He pulled his right hand out of his pocket, showing her the small piece of plastic he held with his forefinger and thumb. “You left this at the bar last night.”
“Oh! My debit card. I totally forgot I opened a tab.” Not surprising given the fight that broke out. The fight Rahu had been involved in. And had apparently won. Four on one and he’d won.
Whatever that tingling had been, it most definitely had not been attraction.
She cleared her throat and stood, planning to reach for the card. The action caused her wet shorts to glue to her leg, because, of course, she had doused herself in coffee.
She pointed at her empty cup. “I need a refill since I’m now wearing it. And I need to change clothes. Coffee, as it turns out, is a really uncomfortable accessory. Um, do you want to come inside?”
He chuckled and gestured for her to walk ahead of him and followed her into the guesthouse.
She led him into the kitchen, where she started a fresh pot. When she turned around, he was standing across the room in the arched doorway, and how weird was it that she wanted him to be closer? Like, it was a physical…urge.
She touched the curls springing free of her ponytail and pointed at the hallway leading to her bedroom. “I’m, ah, going to go change clothes. I’ll be right back.” And then she scurried away like she was afraid she might…what? Touch him again?
Or more?
Ugh. She needed to stop thinking like that. The guy had acted jealous when they’d only known each other for a few minutes. And then he’d gotten into a bar fight. And now she found out he was from Detroit.
Sure, there was some serious physical attraction between them, and he’d returned her credit card, and she could certainly call Petra to get the 411 on whether he was a decent guy, but honestly, what did it matter?
She’d just graduated from college, had accepted a job as a second-grade teacher at a local school, and was about to break the news to her overprotective aunt that she would be quitting at the clothing store and moving out on her own soon. She had plenty enough on her plate at the moment without mooning over a guy who lived a thousand miles away.
When she returned to the kitchen dressed in a pair of shorts and a peasant-style shirt, Rahu paused in the process of pouring coffee into a mug. “You look pretty,” he commented.
She could feel her cheeks heating. “Um, thanks.”
He offered her the cup.
“Thanks. Again. You don’t want any?”
He shook his head. “My mom used to tell me I have enough energy for ten drag—er, people, and the last thing I need is to add caffeine to that mix.” He shrugged. “So I never developed a taste for the stuff.”
She went to the fridge and added creamer. “Do you want some water or something?”
“No, I’m good.”
Becca sipped her coffee while the ensuing silence dragged into awkward territory. Finally, Rahu said, “What are your plans for today?”
Oh God, was he about to ask her out? She didn’t want him to, because she didn’t want to be tempted to say yes. She didn’t want to get to know him better. She didn’t want to know if he was worthy of a second date. Or even a first.
Focus on your plans, Becca. Move out, start your career. Once settled, then you can focus on dating. Preferably someone who doesn’t live on the other side of the country.
“Work,” she blurted. “I have to work. All day. No time for anything else.”
“Good,” he said, nodding as if he approved of her day’s activities. “Well, I guess I’ll get going.”
“Okay,” she said, probably too quickly, but her skin had become itchy and her palms were sweaty, like
she was having an allergic reaction. But to what? Him? His presence?
Okay, that was ridiculous. She hurried across the kitchen, and as she walked past him, she turned to her left, assuming he’d leave through the front door. He must have expected to go through the courtyard because he headed to the right as well and bumped into her arm.
That sizzle of electricity she’d felt each time they came into physical contact last night was back.
“Do you feel that?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve never felt that way with anyone else before,” she said, and then she winced. “Totally didn’t mean that the way it sounds.”
His grin was cheeky. “Oh yeah? How do you think it sounds?”
“Like I’m hitting on you.”
“Too bad that’s not how you meant it.”
She cleared her throat and nodded at the front door. “Do you want to go out that way?”
He shrugged and followed her through the living room. She opened the door and caught his scowl as his gaze landed on the two gargoyles flanking the front steps.
“They’re kind of ugly, aren’t they?” she asked.
“Annoying too.”
She canted her head. “Why do you say that? Because they’re hard to mow around?”
He gave her a blank look and then shook his head. “Something like that.”
She waved at the nearest one. “And they don’t even do their job. They certainly don’t keep the birds from eating Aunt Pacey’s tomatoes.”
One side of his mouth lifted while his eyes danced with laughter. She had the most ridiculous urge to move closer, craving the sizzle between them.
“I think you’re thinking of scarecrows. Gargoyles protect from evil intentions.”
“I guess that’s why Aunt Pacey is always buying new ones. Although I feel like we’re plenty protected at this point. I swear, she bought five new gargoyles just this past week. I didn’t even notice most of them until this morning.”
Rahu glanced at the ones on the front porch, his lips pursed. “I can protect you as well as any dumb gargoyle.”
She chuckled. “After what I saw last night, I’d take my chances with you over a gargoyle anytime.”
“Thanks.”
She stood watching him while he appeared to be studying the stone statues. What the hell was she waiting for? She wasn’t honestly hoping the guy would kiss her, was she?
Her priorities had gotten seriously screwed up over the course of the last twelve hours, it seemed. She’d worked way too hard to get to this point—earning a degree that normally took people four years to obtain had taken her seven—to allow her plan to deviate now.
“Well, I’ll see you later,” Rahu said, and he bounced down the steps and ambled down the sidewalk, hands once again thrust into his front pockets. From this view, the action pulled the shorts taut against his firm backside, and it was possible she started drooling before he rounded the corner at the end of the block and disappeared from her sight.
Swiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she headed inside and straight for the utility closet in the kitchen, where she kept the cleaning supplies.
Her hormones were clearly in overdrive, but that was no reason to lose track of her goals.
Hopefully, Rahu’s “see you later,” had been nothing but a figure of speech.
Hopefully, she’d never see him again.
Chapter Five
Rahu had to protect her.
And nothing more. Sparking, magical connection aside.
Why? his dragon asked. Why do we have to “only” protect her? Why can’t we act on that connection?
She isn’t even a dragon.
You’re only part dragon.
Fuck off, he snarled at the beast.
He hated that reminder, and he especially hated it when, of everyone, his damn dragon threw it in his face.
Despite the ongoing arguments with his dragon, Rahu was determined to keep an eye on Becca. It was, after all, his fault she was now a target for a band of warlocks posing as a rock band that had an almost cult-like human following.
Rahu had looked them up online, hoping to get some inkling of where they might hide out when they weren’t traveling around the world putting on shows and selling out concert venues time and again. But all he’d learned was that the band had been around since the nineties, and their style and music was perpetually stuck in that decade.
The timing made sense. Becca had been born in the nineties, and it had probably taken at least a few minutes for Argyle and Pacey to cast that concealment spell, so it was feasible the warlocks had sensed her at her birth but lost track of her once the spell went into effect.
The spell Rahu had broken.
Which meant she was now wandering around New Orleans, blithely unaware of the danger she was in.
“I still don’t get why they concealed the fact that she’s a witch even from her,” he said while he drilled holes into the ledger board they were going to use to frame Ketu’s deck.
“Argyle had his reasons.” Ketu said as he measured and marked posts.
“Yeah, which he never really explained. Not well enough, anyway.” Done drilling holes for anchors, Rahu headed over to grab another armful of boards for Ketu.
“He wanted her to feel normal. That’s not a good enough reason?”
Rahu scowled and used the hem of his shirt to wipe his brow. “Normal in her world involves being aware of the fact that she’s a frigging witch and learning how to harness her magic so she can protect herself from danger.”
Ketu accepted the next board Rahu handed him. “Yeah, but she’s not just a witch. She’s also half gargoyle. Which complicates things. Something I’d think you, out of all of us, would understand.”
Rahu winced. Ketu was the only person outside of his mom, of course, who knew he wasn’t a full-blooded dragon. He’d spent his entire life working twice as hard as the other members of his colony to prove that he was just as much of a dragon as any of them.
So yeah, he supposed he could understand taking extreme steps to protect one’s identity.
“I still think letting her believe she’s human was a dumb move. She can’t protect herself when she doesn’t even know that she’s in danger.” Rahu took the marked board Ketu offered him and set it up on two sawhorses so he could cut it. “Which is exactly why I’m going to do it for her.”
Ketu paused with the pencil suspended in the air. “Rahu, don’t get involved.”
“I’m already involved.”
“No, you aren’t. This isn’t your business. You came down here to help me build this deck. That’s it. Gabe expects you home in two weeks so you can get to work turning his bedroom into a suite with an attached nursery, remember?”
Rahu rolled his eyes. “Talia isn’t even pregnant yet. He’s not in a hurry. He just wanted me to give him an estimated return time, that’s all.”
“I’m serious, Rahu. Stay the hell away from Rebecca. Let Argyle handle this.”
“I created this mess. I need to fix it. Or at least protect her until those warlocks are found and destroyed.”
That was another point Argyle had been vague on. When Rahu had asked how to eliminate the warlocks threatening Becca, the gargoyle had hemmed and hawed and ultimately not given a real answer. “It’s complicated” was movie, not a solution.
Ketu continued to try to change his mind while they spent the rest of the afternoon framing the deck, but Rahu ignored his pleading, demands, arguments. When it was time to quit so they could clean up before dinner, Rahu went upstairs to his bedroom and took a shower, but instead of going down to the dining room after he dressed, he headed out the front door.
He’d checked up on Becca this morning because yeah, he’d needed to give her debit card back, but he also wanted to see how she was doing. Had she figured out she possessed magic? Did she realize he was a dragon and those guys in the band were warlocks?
Had she thought of him at all since they’d pa
rted ways?
Not that he needed to know the answer to that last question. In fact, it was best if he didn’t. Ketu was right that he didn’t need to get involved—at least, not with Becca. Not in the way his dragon wanted him to.
Conveniently, she’d also given him her plans for the day. He knew, from Argyle, that so long as she remained inside her house or her aunt’s plantation home, she was safe thanks to a plethora of protection charms, not to mention the herd of gargoyles gathered in the courtyard and on the porches. No doubt Argyle or one of his cronies would keep an eye on her as she drove to work.
And once she arrived, her aunt would protect her, since, according to Argyle, Pacey was fully aware and onboard with the plan to keep Becca in the dark about her true nature.
Even after Pacey clocked out for the day, leaving Becca to work until closing, she was theoretically safe. She worked in a high-traffic pedestrian area, and supernatural beings, even those intent upon killing someone, tended to shy away from making scenes in places where lots of humans gathered.
Except those warlocks had formed a band and hung out in bars and concert halls packed to the gills with humans. And they hadn’t hesitated to start a fight with Rahu despite the crowd of humans hovering around them.
Which meant Becca needed Rahu’s protection after her aunt left the store.
He even had a plan. He hung out in the shop across the street, watching through the window while Pacey and Becca had what looked like a hell of an animated conversation. Pacey finally flung up her arms and disappeared through a door in the back of the store, which he knew from scoping it out earlier led to a back alley where both Pacey and Becca parked. He gave it ten minutes, and when Pacey did not return, he headed across the street and stepped into the children’s clothing store.
Rahu hadn’t been in a place like this since, well, since he was a kid himself. There were bright, primary colors on the walls and tables and bookcases laden with stuff packed so tightly he wondered how a mother pushing a stroller could even get down the aisles.