by LeAnn Mason
I mean, that sentence in another context? Sure.
But when he was a giant hawk glowing an eerie crimson and flying above the clouds to avoid detection? No, thanks.
It didn’t help that every time we hit a pocket of the white, fluffy stuff, my bag and I got drenched. Some of me suspected he was doing that on purpose, and I scowled at the back of his feathered head, barely refraining from delivering a swift jab to his ribs with my heel. When he dipped into another, I squeezed my arms tighter around his thickly feathered neck in warning — and to keep a solid grip as muscles moved disconcertingly beneath me with each flap of his massive wings.
Was it just my personality that craved solid ground, or was it a banshee thing? Hadn’t Gunhilde said that my mother had hated flying, too? Maybe Seke had flown with her at some point…
Okay, now I was having other weird thoughts about the two of them together. Being an immortal god had to be bizarre — or sick, depending on how you looked at it. You could have a totally normal relationship with several generations of a family. Leaning toward “sick” on the spectrum, I bumped those thoughts aside.
What lingered in my mind was the immortality thing. I hadn’t thought about when exactly Seke had interacted with my mom. I knew they’d fought the vamps together but... four hundred years ago? And there was Seke saying something about banshees living for a really long time... Could my mom live many more centuries? Was that how my mother had stayed alive this long?
Why would my mom want to live forever?
Seke had said a banshee could use her powers to evade death. By all accounts, her life had to have been a living hell for more than a decade. So then, why would she actively seek to extend her life, her captivity?
Could I evade death too? Indefinitely? Could I be essentially immortal? Then, I wouldn’t age... just like Seke.
A crazy thought intruded: We could be together forever. I tried to banish that thought too, but it resisted. With my legs and arms wrapped around the god, I warmed a bit to the idea, biting my lip.
He’d not only come back for me but brought his team to help me in finding out those answers — outside the jurisdiction of the formal Harbingers of Death organization at the risk of his own neck.
Freezing on the outside at the high altitude and soaking wet, I snuggled deeper into his feathers, soaking up his body heat. It was oddly intimate.
I felt the ring he’d saved from my mom press through his feathers to reach the warmth beneath. If my mom trusted him, maybe I should too?
Never trust anyone but yourself.
Yeah, well, you know what, dad? That didn’t work out so great for you and mom. Things went south when you left the HD, and you left me alone and naive to get caught. Now, I’m with those who can teach me what you didn’t.
Maybe it was time I really gave being part of a team a chance.
24
I was wet, completely soaked to the bone and shivering like a half-drowned cat, when Seke finally touched down in a dark alley somewhere in what I assumed to be southern Florida.
The night air was warm and thick with moisture. The silence of night didn’t exist here, the sounds of raucous laughter and thumping music heard from every corner. Smells of alcohol and sewage wafted through my nose with every other step. It was a lot to contend with while attempting to thaw from my popsicle state.
I glared acidly at the gorgeous god for whom I blamed my current status.
“What? You cannot fault me for staying out of sight of leering humans. And, unfortunately, being high comes at a price.” No matter what he said, I saw the hint of amusement he tried to hide.
“Not for you,” I shot back with a tinge of bitterness. “You have lovely plumage to insulate yourself. Not to mention the act of flying itself most likely also lent to a warmed temperature.”
I’d say it again: I hated flying. Hell, I’d take being seasick over what I’d just done.
Seke only chuckled, stepping closer. With a smolder lighting his hazel gaze, he reached a hand to brush the side of my face, moving the dripping, tangled mess that was my hair away from where it plastered along my cheek.
The simple gesture was anything but to my addled hormones. Seke’s touch burned a trail of heat along the planes of skin it touched. My teeth-chattering breaths hitched. I watched as the god, dressed sharply in black slacks and an olive-green button-up shirt, took another step closer.
He lost all pretense of kindly clearing my vision when his hand laid flat, cupped to my rain-slicked skin, our chests now touching, heaving. Breaths came faster as we each stood locked in the tractor-beam gaze of the other as if gravitational attraction were inching us closer. Heat radiated from all of the places we were pressed together and spread outward from there, igniting my middle and tingling each of my limbs in turn. My chills quickly shifted into a delicious shiver.
“I’d do anything to keep you soaring high with me. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a flight as much as I did with you wrapped tightly around my body.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, some unnamable emotion clogging his throat.
Seeing Seke hot and bothered was something I never thought I’d witness. He always seemed so composed. He was tall, dark, and handsome in spades. I searched his face shadowed in the evening alleyway, noting the stray lock of dark hair dipping to curl along his prominent brow. There were no lines marring his beautiful golden skin, nothing belying age or emotion. The canvas of his face was smooth, and I couldn’t help but reach to touch him, trying to read him at a deeper level.
Much like his had done, my fingers skimmed over the sharp plane of his defined cheekbone. Competing sensations prickled my skin. The first two digits met with warm, smooth skin while the others glided along the coarse hair of his trimmed and groomed beard.
“I love your beard,” I mumbled, enamored with running my hand through the scruff.
With a groan deep in his throat, Seke dropped both hands around my back and pulled me forward, wrapping me in a cocoon of heat as his eyes dipped to my lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a swirl of shadows pull from the alley and warp around us, largely hiding us from view, seemingly subconsciously. His tongue flicked to touch his full bottom lip before he curled the flesh toward his teeth with a quick inhale. Then, I was being lifted onto my tip-toes by the arms banded around my back and those sensual lips dived toward my own.
The moment his pillow-soft mouth closed over mine, I melted. Knees weakening, I moved my hands to his chest, grabbing fistfuls of smooth fabric to ground myself and simultaneously keep me aloft as the kiss deepened. Angling my head to the side, I opened my mouth wider, suckling his lip and pulling the supple flesh into my mouth before gently biting.
The kiss became almost frantic as we grabbed for more of each other, arms roving, pulling, squeezing, as if we were attempting to occupy the same space, to become one.
“Ahem.”
The vehement throat clearing from nearby brought our lust back down to manageable levels, though slowly. Returning to our faculties, grips loosened, heart rates and temperatures normalized, but our minds were clouded and hazy. I was still wet but far from cold. Blinking my eyes open, I stared into Seke’s chiseled face as I became aware of the murmuring.
“No way, I’m not getting in there. You couldn’t pay me enough to physically break that up.” Revulsion was heavy in Raven’s voice.
Some of the heat dissipated at the sound of her disdain, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from Seke’s inviting hazel.
“I’ve never seen him like this.” Ember sounded almost impressed.
A satisfied smirk curled up Seke’s mouth, and I flushed all over again, knowing I had put it there.
“We need to get a move on. Time is of the essence, isn’t it?” Cole growled.
“That is what Aria indicated,” Torgny replied.
The use of my name, reminding me of my role as leader here and of the dire mission — my mission — finally had me blinking out of my daze. “They’re right, of course,”
I murmured quietly, though my traitorous fingers were still sifting through Seke’s facial hair.
I knew what we needed to do, but physically removing myself from Seke’s strong embrace was proving more difficult than I cared to admit. By the conflicted look lingering on his previously stoic face, I surmised that Seke struggled as well.
“Of course.” And with great effort, the Egyptian god stepped back, his glorious arms falling from my body, and his solid chest breaking contact with mine. The shadows dripped away, exposing our unimpressed audience.
I began to shiver again. Except, this time, I couldn’t contribute my wetness to its cause. Well, at least not the wetness that our onlookers can see.
I needed to redirect. Shaking off the moment, I plastered a beatific smile on my face and asked brightly, “So, how did you like riding Torgny, doggy-boy?”
A few minutes later, the whole crew was ambling through the doorway of a local bar, the first eatery we identified in the area. It was just as well because there would be plenty of noise to cover any conversation we had but also dim enough lighting to hide most of our features. Ordering a round of drinks and some greasy food to accompany the booze, we crowded into a corner booth.
The bar seemed to be a good place for tourists because it was full to the brim with loud people, both in voice and attire. The women wore skimpy dresses in wild colors, many of which sported large island flower prints, while the men didn’t seem to know how to button their equally wildly printed shirts. Every one of them was completely shit-faced.
You know that point when you’re sloppy? Where you’re loud and giggly and can’t stand on your own? Yeah. There. One shot away from rushing toward the bathrooms but puking on the floor instead. If any of us had been wanting a quiet booth to discuss things, we’d have run screaming from this place. Luckily, that was not the goal. So when the waitress returned, we each dove in, not worrying much about keeping our voices down.
You must always consider your surroundings and do what you need to blend in. Standing out in a crowd is a sure way to ensure that everyone remembers you. Makes it easy to follow your movements. Be vague in words, confident in movement, and sound in mind.
Translation: do what those around you are doing without giving away your true nature or intentions.
No problem. I took a hearty guzzle of my beverage before joining the conversation. I hadn’t been much of a drinker before I joined the HDPU because I couldn’t let down my guard. But now, even though I still had peeps trying to catch me, I had a whole team of supes to watch my back. In theory, anyway.
“Okay, so we need to decide how we’re planning to get to Bermuda from here and if there are any bread crumbs we can follow once we arrive that won’t burn us,” Cole started.
“Do we know anyone who frequents Bermuda we could maybe call on for a favor?” Ember asked sagely.
“We don’t do many retrievals in the tropics,” Gunhilde replied with a shake of her auburn head.
I put down my glass. “I may know someone.”
“You? You know someone? Since when?”
“Raven,” the HDPU members admonished the snippy shifter in unison — very team-like.
“Well, after you guys evicted me from the prison unit, I bounced around a bit.” I played like it hadn’t affected me, but by the pitying looks from everyone else at the table, they obviously didn’t believe my nonchalance. “Anyway,” I plowed on hurriedly so they wouldn’t feel the need to bring up past baggage between us. “I met Charon with the HDWU. Maybe they’d be willing to help out.” As much as I didn’t want to experience another upchuck session, it made sense to ask for their assistance — even if I’d bailed after just one retrieval.
“Nuh-uh. Nope.” Raven’s black hair swished through her drink as she shook her head.
Cole agreed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to pull more Harbingers units into this mission if it’s not sanctioned.”
Ember nodded. “That plan would be a great way to ensure we never make it to Bermuda in the first place.”
“I know Charon. And I believe you know his crew, including a hellhound by the name of Stone?” Seke asked, directing his comment toward his team.
“Jess knew Sena,” Ember said quietly. I almost missed the words they were spoken so softly. “She would have loved it here. So much sexual energy. She’d have feasted.”
The table fell into silence as we all watched the human vacationers living up their experience and took sips of our drinks to drown the emotion. Thankfully, Torgny and Gunhilde didn’t ask, catching the tone of the HDPU, and nobody made any quips about the sexual energy between me and Seke.
It was questionable whether the night would be remembered afterward, but at least, the humans were enjoying themselves in the moment. I resisted the urge to get up and dance my worries away alongside them. That wasn’t what we needed right now.
“Charon wouldn’t side with the vamps. I mean he’s the ferryman. I’d think that they would be a personal affront to him.” I shrugged.
“Not because of that, you twit. I mean that if the director found out, he could put the kibosh on the whole thing. Don’t want that, do you?” Raven gave me a very pointed are-you-dumb? look with sculpted black eyebrows raised in question and a questioning shake to her sleek head for emphasis.
“Oh. Right. Totally.” My cheeks pinkened, and Gunhilde reached over to pat my hands where they writhed on the table. I moved to wrap them around the base of my bottled beer to keep from fidgeting. Little beads of condensation had formed and were running steadily down the length of the brown glass. “See? Who thought it would be a good idea for me to head this thing?” I groused childishly as I picked at the label of the bottle, sneaking a glare at Seke.
He merely raised a brow, remaining quiet and confident.
I studiously avoided the others’ gazes as I rethought.
“Maybe there’s a local supe hangout where we can get some local info.” Ember looked around the table to see how her idea was received.
It was a good one, and we all nodded intermittently.
“I’ll see if I can get another vision of my mother. But if we could track down something from a local supe or even a vamp...” I let the idea hang.
“Oh, I love a good interrogation.” Raven lit up and toasted me with her drink. “I’ll play Bad Cop. Cole can be Good Cop.”
Cole grumbled but didn’t decline the role.
“It’s a plan. Let’s finish here and get moving,” Gunhilde agreed.
“Ready? Break!” Ember shouted as if we’d been in a football huddle and that was the signal to move to our respective positions.
In this case, it meant we all leaned back against the pleather seat cushions and lifted our drinks. Unspoken, we agreed to finish this round, and then we’d get to implementing our plan.
We’d find my mom. After more than a decade, it was hard to wait even another day. But we needed to be smart. We needed to be fast. We needed to do it right.
Don’t get caught.
25
“Care to buy a girl a drink? Because you look like a tall glass, and I’m feeling thirsty.” Ember added a suggestive showing of teeth, sliding her tongue over a canine.
The pale man at the bar raised a brow, his lips quirking on one side. “Yeah? Thirsty for—?”
A slim blonde stepped in front of him. “Excuse me. That’s my boyfriend.” She sneered and spun around, squarely smacking the phoenix in the face with her carefully arranged waves. A waft of hairspray punctuated the move and set the phoenix to coughing.
“Why you—”
“Nope.” Cole’s beefy arms came around Ember and picked up her tiny frame, spinning her around one-eighty and dropping her before a chortling Raven.
Ember glared. “It’s been a few years since I dated, okay?” Few hundred years, actually. Her heart had been broken one time too many by the passage of time, and she’d sworn off romance. She’d just begun her break when she joined the HD as something to keep her busy.
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br /> Raven bit back another laugh. “I can tell, old bird. Do you even know what ‘thirsty’ is slang for these days?”
The gin and tonic cooled the redhead’s rapidly rising temperature — which had nothing to do with their third packed club of the night. This one had seemed promising as a supe hangout with the name of Magic and Mayhem. And then they’d spied the very undead-looking guy at the bar.
“I was trying to gauge if he drank blood. And we still don’t know that he’s not a vamp...” Ember tried to get around the hellhound’s bulk. “I could take that skinny bitch on, spill some blood. See if he takes the bait.”
“No,” Cole rumbled, preventing the pixie from detouring around the barrier his body created. “He’s not a vamp. I could smell him. Human.”
Ember tossed her arms up. “Then why aren’t we just sending you around to sniff everyone’s butts?”
Raven handed Cole his wine glass to finish and tossed back her shot of tequila, eying the room casually. “Because this option is more fun. But, no one appears too thirsty here — at least, not thirsty in the way we want. Looks like we’ve hit another dead end. Besides, I hate this kind of music. On to the next club on the strip?” She rubbed her palms together.
Ember narrowed her eyes, suspicious that her partner was enjoying herself too much. “We’re on a mission,” she reminded them. “We’re just looking for a vampire—”
“Or supe,” Cole supplied.
“—we can interrogate about Bermuda. That’s it. No fun and games.”
Raven rolled her eyes, turning for the door. “You need to learn to mix business and pleasure. If I have to live with you guys all the time, I’m going to enjoy the few chances I have to get out.”
“Raven,” Ember warned, quickly sucking the last of her drink down with her straw — waste not — before tripping after the taller woman.
“It’s not the worst idea,” Cole said.
The birds turned to gawk at the hellhound, one in triumph, the other in shock.