To Handle A Hellcat (Southern Sanctuary Book 12)

by Jane Cousins

  Over use of violence. Hogging all the kills. Surly attitude.

  Elijah frowned, was Hadleigh back from maternity leave already? No, he took another look at the name on the complaint in his hand, Declan Benavidez. He blinked, nope, he wasn’t imagining things. A real possibility lately, who knew what the hell Copper Yanez was lacing her poisonous darts with. And since he was her favourite pin cushion, he had to be super vigilant not to ever let down his guard. Not really a problem given his nature and magic.

  But, he wasn’t seeing things. This really was a complaint regarding Declan that had been signed by five Enforcers, so it couldn’t be dismissed as a conflict of personalities.

  The complaint was the last straw. Fuck, Elijah hated this side of his job, heart to hearts really weren’t his forte. Walking into the training arena he wasn’t surprised to find Declan there, working out with the simulator set at the highest level. He paused for a moment, watching him fight. Shit, it was all too easy to forget, given the man’s looks, that he was a wicked impressive fighter. Moving like silk, fast and smooth.

  Facing off against seven computer generated ninjas, Declan ducked, jumped, and flipped, using the staff in his hands as if it were an extension of himself. Impressive.

  Elijah glanced at the control panel that recorded the number of hits Declan had taken, via the lightweight vest he wore, and collated the extent of injuries he had inflicted upon his opponents. Hmmm, if this was a real world fight, Declan would be declared the official winner, though he had to be smarting. According to the computer he’d taken several hard blows to the ribs and one to the shoulder. The vest would have sent harsh bolts of electricity into Declan when those contact points were made.

  There was a fierce, angry expression on Declan’s face as he hammered a series of blows against the only two computer generated opponents still standing. Their colleagues lying sprawled around them. Most not moving. The duo were badly injured, their movements seriously hampered. Anyone else would have halted the program and walked away in victory, but Declan just kept slamming away at them.

  Elijah didn’t interfere until the last of the ninjas crumpled to the floor. Scooping up a staff similar to the one Declan was holding, Elijah jumped the barrier and strode across the arena.

  Panting, sweating and swaying slightly from fatigue, Declan looked around, scowling, disappointed to find there was no one left to fight. Fuck, he’d burned through all the levels in this training package too fast. Now he’d have to go re-set the thing.

  Innate instinct had him bringing up his staff to block the blow aimed at his head. Spinning, he discovered Elijah, his boss, had managed to sneak up behind him. Man was like a ghost.

  “Good block, Pretty Boy.”

  Normally Declan would have dimpled and laughed off Elijah’s attempt to bash his head in along with the pretty label, but not today. His lips lifting in a snarl as he lowered his staff and then brought it up suddenly, attacking with a flurry of hits, all of which Elijah blocked.

  They sparred. Elijah actually having to work hard to block, parry, and attack. Declan’s intensity all but radiated off of him, and perhaps if he wasn’t already half spent he may have actually stood a chance of beating Elijah today. But ten minutes into their match he stumbled slightly and that was all the opening Elijah needed.

  Declan landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him, the end of Elijah’s staff coming down to rest against his throat, tilting back his chin. Bloody hell, gritting his teeth he tapped out.

  “You want to tell me what the hell is up with you lately?”

  “Nothing is up.” Declan sounded annoyed, issuing the words from between clenched teeth.

  Elijah withdrew the staff and bent down, extending a hand to help him up. “Seems we have a misunderstanding, you think I’m asking as your cousin and friend.” He stepped back from Declan, letting the full impact of his hard slate grey eyes tell the story for him.

  Declan held a hand up in surrender. “Seriously, you don’t want to hear about my problems.”

  “We are so in agreement on that front, but you’ve made it my concern with how you’ve been acting lately. Signing up for every shift going. Being surly. Edging out your fellow Enforcers to take a target. Excessive violence… now talk.”

  “It’s… Darcy.”

  “I heard she clocked you in the face.” Elijah noted that there was no sign of any injury now, the man sure did heal fast. “But since she still signed off on your field exam, I assumed it was no big deal.”

  Declan appreciated Aos Si swirling about his face, cooling him down, sending the ends of his sweat soaked hair fluttering. “She… Darcy’s upset with me.”

  “We’ve all been on her shit list before. Avoid her, she’ll quickly find a new number one enemy and forget all about whatever you did to piss her off.”

  “Yeah, no, I don’t see that happening. I lied to her.”

  “That’s called self-preservation.”

  “No, it’s a lot worse than that. See… I marked Darcy with a claim.”

  “Shit, she found out about that?”

  Declan froze. “How do you know about it?”

  “Because I was there that day, I saw you do it.”

  Declan frowned, shaking his head. “No way. You were playing with the cousins, out in the far paddock. Way too far away to see anything.”

  “Not for me.” Elijah’s skills could be scary.

  “You never said anything to me, or to Darcy.”

  Elijah shrugged. “I’m guessing you had you reasons, and you’ve never struck me as vindictive or even unkind for that matter. Plus, it didn’t seem to hurt her any.”

  “Don’t you want to know why I did it? Marked her.”

  “Nope. And it seems to me that the only person who needs to know is Darcy.”

  “Yeah, like she’s going to let me explain. I might heal fast but broken bones still hurt like a bitch.”

  “So what do you plan to do instead, whine and moan about it, making everyone around you miserable? Or are you going to man up, track her down, explain, apologise, and pray like crazy she doesn’t rip all your teeth out your head with a pair of rusty pliers?”

  “She’ll see me coming from a mile away.”

  “Not if you’re sneaky about it. Come on, you know her, I’m guessing inside and out. You know her weaknesses, exploit them.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Declan’s mouth. “You don’t have any compunction about setting me on Darcy?”

  “I think Darcy can take care of herself, you, on the other hand, just make sure you have the hospital on speed dial when you make your move.”

  “Hah, so funny.”

  “Yeah, I’m a laugh riot. Now, do I have to kick your ass again, or are you going to get out of here and actually do something constructive to solve your problem?”

  “I’m going. I’m going.” Declan waved, surprised to find he suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Elijah was right. Working himself into exhaustion wasn’t working. Nor was snapping and snarling at everyone around him.

  He’d created this mess by not being upfront with Darcy years ago. He’d always intended to tell her about the mark and what it meant. It was the final stage of his mission to - Handle a Hellcat.

  He’d always known it would be the trickiest stage of his campaign. Darcy’s cold temper was legendary. She could freeze him like a block of ice with those gorgeous icy eyes of hers. But the greater the risk, the greater the reward. What was he doing, running at the first sign that things were going off course?

  Look at everything he had managed to achieve so far. Darcy relaxed her guard in his company. She invited him along on a breaking and entering jaunt. She’d taken him to her brother’s birthday, admittedly to use as shield, but that should just help make her realise how very useful he could be to have around.

  And most importantly of all, not only had they had sex, she’d let herself be backed into a corner and agreed to an adhoc, temporary, casual, on-going
hook up arrangement. That had to mean she cared for him. Or at the very least found him sexually compatible, he could totally build on that.

  The mission wasn’t over until he laid it all on the line. He needed to tell Darcy about the mark, what it meant. And most importantly of all, he needed to tell her he loved her. Damn, it was like he had a death wish, but what could he do? He was irretrievably, irrevocably, insanely in love with Darcy Montgomery.

  Time to start planning. In order to trap Darcy long enough to get her to listen to him he was going to have to channel her sneaky ways. So how would Darcy go about trapping someone like Darcy? Oh, yes, that might work. And it wasn’t like she could get any madder at him… could she? Damn, this might just be the first step to an eternal nuclear winter.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Darcy stomped down the green carpeted corridor. How did the High Council ever get anything achieved? No one manned reception. All the offices were empty, including her mother’s office slash laboratory. Papers were scattered on desks and more than one coffee cup was so recently abandoned, steam was still wafting to the ceiling.

  Damn, she either had a magical bell around her neck, signalling her approach, or someone in the tech department had rigged an alarm. She’d have to look into disabling that sooner rather than later. Couldn’t have anyone knowing her movements.

  Grrr, she stomped along the corridor. Empty. Empty. Pretty sure someone was hiding under their desk, but didn’t call them out on it, as they weren’t her target today. Bugger, there was no sign of Great-Aunt Rebecca anywhere, unless she was hanging out in…

  “Great-Aunt Alma.” Damn, of all people to still be here, her least favourite. Not that she disliked Alma personally, she just didn’t like the role her Great-Aunt performed for the Southern Sanctuary, matchmaker.

  She had nothing but respect for Alma’s manipulative tricky ways, Darcy just didn’t want those brown eyes to ever get their magical gold glint on and look in her direction. Matched? Melded? Her? No thank you. She was determined to make her own destiny, she did not want Alma interfering in her life.

  “Darcy, darling girl, how delightful, a visitor. Come in. I swear it’s way too quiet around here. Sit.”

  Crap. Darcy dutifully entered and took a seat across the wide desk, taking note of the stacks of notes, files, papers and a batch of complicated colour coded charts. Yikes, she couldn’t stand to have that level of mess on her desk.

  Alma flicked her grey hair back over one shoulder, the woman looking very elegant today in a creamy silk wrap dress and gold drop earrings. “Would you like something cool to drink?” She gestured at a narrow bar located between two bookcases.

  Darcy shook her head, a drink would only prolong this chat, and she wanted to make her escape as soon as possible. Smoothing down her candy pink plaid mini, Darcy did her best to look relaxed.

  Alma smiled as if she knew exactly what was going on in Darcy’s head. It was slightly disconcerting. Hmmm, she’d have to see if she could duplicate that same smile, it could come in handy. “Nothing to drink, thanks. I was actually looking for Rebecca.”

  “Rebecca? Haven’t you heard? She’s off in the wilds of Borneo researching some isolated tribe. She thinks they may have developed some type of bat sonar ability. A very exciting evolution according to her.”

  “Damn.”

  “Is there a problem? Maybe I can help.”

  “No, it’s fine. I just had some questions about the grid.”

  Alma’s knowing smile widened. “Let me guess. You wanted to ask Rebecca if the increase in power of the grid over the last few years, and the ongoing fluctuations, has anything to do with the newest additions to the family being born with their magic? And likely, your follow up question would be to ask if we can expect all future babies born in the Sanctuary to likewise arrive in this world powered up?”

  Darcy’s gaze narrowed, she got the distinct feeling that Alma knew exactly what was going on and why. “Would you care to explain what is happening to me?”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t worked it out for yourself already, Darling Girl. Been a little distracted lately, have you?” Alma arched an eyebrow upwards for a moment, then chuffed a laugh. A slightly smug sound as if she knew exactly who had been disturbing Darcy’s peace of mind lately.

  Okay, Darcy was getting close to admitting she wasn’t fond of Alma personally either.

  “Think about who has joined the grid over the past two years. Four Warriors of Maat, re-born in the sun, semi-immortals. And let’s add to the mix the descendant of the God of Chaos. Plus all the fresh bloodlines, like the treasure hunters touched by the Goddess Ixchel. You know how the grid works, it both transfers and absorbs magic from all Sanctuary residents, but especially those who are melded. It was starved for quite some time you know, our numbers dwindling and now, well, its doing its best to ramp up and cope. And one of those ways is through the power fluctuations and siphoning off the excess into any newborns.”

  “Shit, that’s not good.” Darcy could see all the potential hazards and there were almost too many to calculate.

  “Yes, that about sums it up. But what was the alternative? To let our numbers fade and the grid and our magics along with it?”

  “Couldn’t you have channelled your matchmaking mojo and lured in more mundane mates?”

  Alma chuckled under her breath. “The heart wants what the heart wants, I’m afraid. It seems we are just going to have to deal with the on-going challenges the grid presents us as it goes through this period of growing pains. An unfortunately…” Alma glanced down at the colourful chart by her right elbow. “Things are going to get a lot worse over the coming years before they get better.”

  “That sounds like a politician’s soft shoe shuffle. Who is going to warn Gaia and Hadleigh? And what about Nell? And I know Locke and Serena are thinking of starting a family. Someone could get hurt.”

  “Yes, I suppose they could… someone in the family. Hmmm, I wonder under whose purview a threat like that might fall?”

  Darcy grit her teeth. “You’re saying this mess falls into my lap?”

  “Well, it’s such a pretty lap, all those cute, sassy plaid minis you wear. In my day I could have totally given you a run for your money.”

  “Just what do you expect me to do? I can’t threaten babies into behaving, can I?”

  Alma laughed again. “Darling Girl, you have to stop thinking like a lone wolf. You have dozens upon dozens of friends and relatives with the right skill sets to help you.”

  Darcy snapped her fingers. “It’s funny you should say that, when I first found out I thought this would be a perfect project for Great-Uncle Nestor to head up.”

  “Excellent idea. He’s bored with retirement already. See, you’re already managing the problem. Working the threads.”

  “You know about the threads?”

  “Darcy, of course I know about the threads. What do you think matchmaking is all about? You and I aren’t all that different you know. Except I suppose that my web is a lot more vast and specialised. And more often than not I’m assessing thousands of node points, extending decades into the future. I suppose you could say I’m more about the long con.”

  Darcy bristled. Not just because she’d never considered that Alma was a Spider Mage, like herself, but mainly because her Great-Aunt was dissing her skill set as pithy. “I’m not sure if matchmaking and say… heading off a war can be compared exactly.”

  “True.” Alma smirked. “All that’s too often needed to prevent a war is a blunt object. Matchmaking, that takes finesse, style and a willingness to discard all scruples… you should know that, Dearest, after all, haven’t you been dipping your toe into my pond lately?”

  Oh, shit, Alma knew. Damn, but all she’d done was chat with Eli, and then later Quinn. A little nudge, a lie or two, played on their fears, bolstered their confidence. It wasn’t like she’d set out to match make, she just couldn’t stand the pathetic sad faces and heartfelt sighs. So boring. And it wa
sn’t like it was hard or anything, Darcy had known exactly what to say, or not say in order to get her cousins off their tight assess and send them after their men.

  Alma’s smirk broadened into a grin. “Go on, admit it, you enjoyed yourself.”

  Darcy rolled her eyes. “I manipulate people every day, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

  “Exactly, you manipulate people every day, you’ve boiled the art of matchmaking down to its very essence. I do like a smart apprentice that I don’t have to explain every single detail to, that would get tiresome fast.”

  Darcy swallowed with difficulty. “Excuse me. Did you say apprentice?”

  “Yes. Now, I don’t think we should make an announcement or anything, just keep doing what you’ve been doing, but try and think ten… twenty steps down the road.”

  “Sorry, I have a job, I don’t want another.” And she especially didn’t want anything to do with matchmaking.

  “Dearest. I said apprenticeship, why, it will take you years to get up to my level, and even then you’ll have to really apply yourself. Besides, I’m not ready to retire in the foreseeable future. But someday I will, and you will need a new challenge eventually, once you’ve finished cowing the entire supernatural community.”

  “I…” Bloody hell, this was the second time she’d been blindsided in the past week. First Declan and his betrayal, now Alma, working behind the scenes to lure her into the hellish world of matchmaking. It was official, she was a crappy Spider Mage.

  “Don’t worry, I know you are currently a little discombobulated. When the threads shift up to titanium strength it takes some getting used to. I remember when I first fell in love, I barely knew which way was up. But give it a few months to settle down, and you’ll find the web steadily growing more vast and you’ll get used to filtering all the new information much more efficiently.”

  “Love?” Darcy tamped down on the urge to flinch.

  “Sorry, but I thought I would do you the courtesy of being blunt. Would you prefer I tried to trick or manipulate you?”

  “I’d prefer you shut up. Let’s be very clear, I am not in love.”