He looked slightly offended for a moment, then just shrugged and took another sip. Atticus offered her an egg and biscuit sandwich. She snatched it up and shoved it in her mouth before anyone could say it was time to go.
It seemed that any time that food was placed in front of her, trouble came knocking.
It wasn’t long before Warrick emerged, fully dressed, and they left. No one spoke as they rode the elevator down to the pit. After the encounter in the bathroom, she had a hard time facing any of them.
As they entered the pit, she noticed daemons, both elite and lesser, scattered throughout the stands around the arena. When the place quieted at her entrance, it didn’t take a genius to figure out they came to see her.
She stifled her sigh of annoyance and followed the rest of the men onto the field. They were among the first to arrive, the arena empty except for three other daemons practicing on the opposite side of the sand-packed field.
Warrick stopped in of front her, legs spread, arms crossed, his gaze assessing as he studied her. “You know how to fight but using your abilities while you fight is different. You have a natural chaos ability, meaning your powers will react to your surroundings without you controlling them. But being an elite means you can’t leave anything to chance.”
Atticus came to stand opposite Warrick with her between them, and she shifted uneasily, more than a little uncomfortable to be the center of their combined focus.
Excitement shone in Atticus’s eyes, and he bounced on his feet. “There are two types of elites—those who have icy control, and those with fiery passion. Neither is wrong. Each elite will discover one method will work better for them than the other. One will feel more natural, whereas the other will feel like fighting to swim upstream while caught in a whirlpool.”
Keegan began circling them, studying the guys as much as her, which was not at all comforting. She didn’t like the calculating look in his amber eyes, the shards of green practically sparkling while his mind worked overtime. “Yesterday was for you to learn how to access your powers and find out if you have any specialties.”
Nikos gave her a sly smile. “Today we get to learn where your natural tendencies lie.”
She immediately shifted to face them, not wanting to be caught in the middle, not liking the turn of the conversation. Instead of letting her escape, they moved in tandem, keeping her trapped in the center. The thrill of the fight chased along her veins, but caution was an icy chill that snaked down her spine.
Though none of the men moved, energy kicked up in the air and swirled around her, licking and nipping at her skin. A pinch on her ass had her whirling, and she glared at Nikos.
He gave her a cheeky smile. “Don’t like it? Fight back.”
She cocked her head, narrowed her eyes and spun to look at each of them in turn. Understanding what she needed to do to dispel the circle was just outside of her reach. Closing her eyes, she focused on their magic. Heat and ice tingled against her skin, leaving her off-balance.
Atticus was pure heat and fury, while Warrick was biting ice. The other two were opposite of what she expected…Nikos was like a touch of winter air, while Keegan burned brighter than forest fire. They were no less potent than the others, their abilities were just different.
“You need to shield.” Warrick barked out the command.
What felt like a hand slid across her torso, dangerously close to her breasts, and she shivered, struggling to remain focused. That was Nikos…his healing abilities allowing him to manipulate her body and feel things that weren’t there. The fingers threaded through her hair were different, and she instinctively knew it was Keegan, his touch as gentle as a breeze as he stole a caress.
No matter how much she concentrated, Warrick and Atticus were just a brush of power at the far corners of her senses. They were holding back. She fought to pull up a shield, but it was like trying to catch raindrops. It was hard to concentrate when it felt like fingers were tracing down her spine.
“You’re not in danger, so your body won’t automatically block the magic.” Annoyance made Warrick even more imposing. “You don’t get to skip out on the work. Now shield.”
It now made sense why Warrick and Atticus were holding back. Their abilities were more physical, more violent and would trigger her instincts to take over.
If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel the touch of air that she needed, but she couldn’t grasp it and bend it to her will. She ignored the way the guys were doing their best to distract her, and a speck of her irritation escaped. She needed to focus. The air around her calmed, the room falling quiet.
“Octavia…” Atticus’s voice was barely a whisper.
Her eyes popped open to see a bubble surrounding her, colors of the rainbow shimmering along the surface where the light hit it just right. It was like she was in a cocoon of water where nothing could touch her. She reached out, running her palms over the cool, glass-like surface, shocked when the bubble bowed under her touch. “What are you doing?”
The rest of the pit had stopped what they were doing to watch.
The guys exchanged glances with each other. When Warrick spoke, his face was grim. “You’re the one doing it.”
She reeled in surprise.
Nikos reached out, his fingers just brushing the surface before he was blasted backwards. He landed with a heavy thump, rolling to his feet, only to fall back on his ass with a slightly dazed expression.
When she darted after him, she nearly slammed face-first into the wall. “What the hell?!”
She tapped the surface, and a thrum like a gigantic drum vibrated around her. “How do I get out?”
Keegan strolled toward the bubble, stopping a foot short of touching it, the shield shimmering in warning between them. “You get out the same way you got in.”
She snorted and glared at him. “That’s so helpful. I wish I had thought of that.”
Amusement quirked his lips. “Focus on the air and water in the shield and send it back to wherever you grabbed it from.”
“I didn’t feel any heat or ice when the shield formed.” She didn’t understand it.
“What did you feel?” Warrick came to a stop next to Keegan.
“Annoyance.” Her response was immediate. “I wanted everyone to shut up and stop so I could concentrate.”
Atticus went to help Nikos to his feet, and she was relieved to see he appeared fine, just a little dazed. They wandered closer, careful not to brush against the shield. She was beginning to feel like a spider caught under a glass.
Warrick rubbed his fingers over his mouth, his eyes speculative. “This isn’t working.”
Keegan hummed in agreement. “We’re taking the wrong tack. She’s different, her abilities manifest in a different way, so it would make sense that the way she conjures them would be different, too.”
Octavia noted that they called what she could do an ability. To her, it all fell into the realm of magic. Even when they explained otherwise, to her it was all the same.
Atticus and Nikos stood on either side of Warrick and Keegan, the four of them watching her curiously. The rest of the pit had fallen silent. Even the daemons in the stands were leaning forward, their faces alight with avid curiosity.
She didn’t appreciate having her private life so exposed. Their eyes felt like ants crawling over her, fueling her need to escape to the shadows. “Can we get on with this?”
The guys were nodding to each other, like they were having some sort of private conversation, and she frowned, not liking that they were all in agreement.
That always meant bad things for her.
“I want you to look inside yourself, search for the center where your power resides.” Atticus prowled around the outside of her bubble, shards of red in his eyes, clearly displeased at being unable to reach her.
She glanced at the others, waiting for more instructions, but they only peered at her expectantly. She scowled, grumbling under her breath at their half-ass instructions, then r
eluctantly closed her eyes.
How the fuck did one search for their power, much less look inside themselves?
The one time she wanted them to actually give her directions, they remained mute.
Disgruntled and feeling more than a little stupid, she scanned her body the way she would if searching for injuries.
And found nothing.
Not willing to admit defeat, Octavia crouched and placed her hand against the sphere near her feet. She half expected to be thrown back and crushed like a bug against a windshield. Instead, a trail of cool water swirled up her fingers in a spiral. Air buffeted her, making her feel like she was on top of a cliff, a spray of wind and water spritzing her.
Using the tentative connection with the elements, she traced the warmth back to a small hum that resonated in her bones. It was only a tiny trickle, something she wouldn’t have noticed if she wasn’t looking for it. But now she’d found the source, it seemed obvious. It wasn’t foreign or new, but something she thought everyone possessed.
It was like it made up her very essence.
She should feel unease at how invasive it was, but it was more of a warm comfort.
Opening her eyes, she straightened and gave the men a nod. “Got it. Now what?”
“That’s up to you.” Keegan shrugged and tapped his chin, speculation churning in his eyes. “Use those abilities to drop the shield.”
It was a demand.
The stillness that made him such a deadly assassin took hold. Not even the air dared defy him, the room falling silent. Emotions churned under his calm exterior. As he struggled for control, the ring of silver around his eyes pulsed with a seething rage that lurked just under the surface. She cocked her head, taking a step closer, and he seemed to relax slightly.
His shoulders eased, as if her nearness calmed him.
“Do it.” His voice was a husky whisper.
She found herself nodding. She was so under his spell, if it had been Warrick, she would’ve suspected that he’d used his powers on her. “Suggestions for how?”
Warrick crossed his arms, drawing her attention. “Touch your core and focus your intent.”
He mentioned core like it was a separate entity, not an essential part of his makeup the way it was for her. Another way that she was different from them. Unease prickled along her spine, but she brushed it off against the need to be free of her prison.
Closing her eyes, she did as he directed. The magic warmed under her attention, and she reached out, tapped her finger against the bubble trapping her, imagining it shatter.
Warmth tingled along her skin like static. As the bubble popped, the air pulsed while it escaped the sphere, and the water sprayed into a mist, showering everything in a good twenty-foot area. Before she even had time to open her eyes, the guys had her surrounded, each of them touching her to reassure themselves she was unharmed.
A small cheer went up from the crowd in the stands, money exchanged hands, and she resigned herself to being under a microscope.
Which totally sucked since they were supposed to be on a secret mission.
The guys towered over her, blocking out the outside world. Octavia grabbed Nikos’s chin, and he stilled under her touch. “Are you hurt?”
He didn’t smile or try to charm her. He leaned into her hand, his voice husky as he spoke. “You would never hurt me.”
He seemed so sure.
She wished she had his confidence.
Seeing her agitation, he gave her a lopsided grin, the psycho in him toned down to a tamed monster who seemed content with her touch. Then Atticus basically bodychecked him, knocking Nikos to the side, and took his spot.
“You did it!” Atticus grinned.
She couldn’t help but smile back at his infectious excitement. She only wished she knew how she did it, very much doubting she’d be able to duplicate it in time if someone was pointing a gun at her.
Across the arena, she saw the same men who’d approached Atticus last night enter the pit.
As if sensing her unease, the guys slowly turned, standing in a protective line in front of her. She could practically feel the audience holding its breath and leaning forward so they wouldn’t miss anything. Unease trickled at the back of her mind as the soldiers neared…it couldn’t mean anything good.
The guys were going to leave her again.
She knew it last night, but seeing the soldiers again made it more real.
Pythias’s warning came back to her, and her stomach clenched at the knowledge that if they left, they wouldn’t be coming back.
She couldn’t let that happen.
She needed to find a way to protect them…but how?
Chapter Twenty-two
Keegan
Worry stirred through Keegan as they exited the pit—Octavia was too quiet.
She was up to something.
Her expression switched between annoyance—no doubt at being treated like a fragile human—to unhappiness about being abandoned, then a blank expression that he easily interpreted as defiance.
They filed into the elevator, the guys leaving her no choice but stand in the middle where they could all watch her fume.
For a soldier who had survived a tragic past, she was horrible at subterfuge, and he had to suppress his amusement or he would give in to the totally inappropriate and impulsive urge to slam her up against the wall and kiss her until all thoughts of rebellion evaporated.
As the elevator rose silently, he couldn’t keep his gaze from caressing the delicate curve of her back before his focus skimmed down to her luscious backside. Lured closer, he found himself leaning forward, needing another whiff of her addictive lilac scent, the haunting smell driving him nuts, following him wherever he went.
When he caught Nikos smirking, wicked amusement twinkling in the bastard’s eyes, Keegan straightened and repressed a sigh.
The little psycho raised an inquiring brow, and Keegan kept his face impassive.
Not that Nikos didn’t have reason to question him.
Women normally bored him.
They were predictable, obsessed about their clothes or makeup or other asinine shit he had no interest in pursuing. After decades, dating had become a daunting task. It had been years since he’d been in a serious relationship, and he’d been perfectly happy sticking to his normal hookups who knew the score.
He frowned to himself, unable to remember the last time he even had anything resembling a date. He avoided getting close to other daemons, especially the females, not trusting them an inch. But being with humans meant deceiving them about every aspect of his life, which left a bad taste in his mouth.
Octavia was different.
Her troubled life made her stronger and more resilient…and utterly fascinating.
He would never get bored unravelling all the mysteries and nuances that made her special. She was an enigma he suspected would take him a lifetime to decrypt.
The thought of her sneaking away and going out on her own had him breaking out in a cold sweat. Reciting passages from his favorite manuscripts did nothing to ease the vicious twist in his gut at the thought of anything bad happening to her.
No.
Unacceptable.
She was theirs to protect. He would not allow any harm to come to her on his watch. As the elevator doors opened, he calculated the odds of them being able to steal away without her following…and came up with a snowball's chance in hell.
He sighed in defeat as the others exited the elevator, unable to figure out why he was so buoyant at the thought of following her into danger. He loved watching her move, and the way she fought was a thing of beauty. He would be happy to simply watch her forever.
Or maybe not just watching.
Training her, touching her body, feeling her beneath his hands set his baser instincts on fire.
It was more than lust or anything as simple as desire. He was completely fascinated with her, almost as smitten as Nikos or as infatuated as Atticus or as obsessed as Warrick. I
t was like she was created just to bedevil them.
No way in hell was he leaving her behind to get into mischief on her own. He trusted her to stay put as far as he could throw her. He fucking loved the way her devious mind worked. Just when he thought he had her figured out and expected her do one thing, she twisted things around in a way he could only admire—after he got over the shock.
All he had to do was convince the others of his reasoning. Entering their apartment, he saw the stubborn tilt to her jaw and smothered his smile, then decided to let her try to cajole and badger them into getting her way.
He caught Warrick’s eye and relaxed when he saw the man had come to the same conclusion.
When he ultimately agreed to allow her to go with them, maybe he could steal a kiss or get time alone with her, so she could show her appreciation, and he nodded to himself at his masterful plan. It was a win-win situation.
Octavia gritted her teeth against the feeling of being left out, and not part of the team. Knowing they were going into danger was like an itch she couldn’t scratch. She paced inside the apartment, the walls like a cage that was closing in on her.
Tramping down the growl of frustration, she whirled on the guys. “I’m going with you.”
Keegan had a small grin on his lips, watching her with a fascination he usually reserved for his precious books, like he wanted to see inside her and read her every desire. Warrick had his arms crossed, his head tilted as he studied her. Nikos was cleaning beneath his fingernails with a tip of his knife, whistling tunelessly. Atticus just went to his room and began sorting his stash of weapons.
She narrowed her eyes…they’d already made their decision. “Look, I—”
“You’re going,” Warrick interrupted, his arms dropping to his side and he sighed in defeat. “In light of your premonition, leaving you behind is impossible. Until we can discover the traitor, we can’t trust that you’ll to be safe here without us to stand guard. If you follow our rules, you will be allowed to accompany us—”
Daemon Grudge Page 20