The Compass

by Cindy Charity

  A man sat down next to her, bumping her elbow. On purpose she was sure. Giving him a smile in response to his apology and wink, Ali shifted her body on the stool. The hope of it being enough of a signal was dashed as the man enquired her drink of choice. The pickup line wasn’t original, neither was his cologne. She had a hard time sitting still through his blatant inspection of her person. It went with the scenario she supposed. A woman, drinking alone, equalled prey. The guy tried a few more lines, and Ali made sure he understood she wasn’t biting by telling him he wasn’t her type. She delivered it with a wink of her own. He could take it anyway he wanted to, as long as it got him to move along.

  Sitting in the corner of the bar, Finn watched Ali. The place was full to the rafters with people. But it didn’t matter to him, all he saw was her. Having established their connection, her scent had filled him, pulling him to her. Upon seeing her for the first time, as she had exited her building, his breath had been knocked out of him. She was a slim woman with a tiny frame; reminding him of the fae that he and Cian used to look for as boys. She wore her hair long and loose, adding to the image of a mischievous, out of place fairy. Though her face hadn’t been clear to him, Finn had known it would be as delicate as her stature.

  He had watched as she had scanned the streets before stepping out fully into the night. His instinct had been to go to her then, to chastise her for being careless. There were too many dangers hidden in the shadows, but he had held back. He had allowed her to get halfway up the block before he had fallen in behind her. When he had touched her mind lightly, he had felt the confusion, the sorrow and the need to block out the world.

  Yet, despite her emotional state, she had held her head up as she walked. He had admired how she moved, with purpose and determination. She intrigued him as no other mortal woman had. When she had entered the bar, he’d chuckled, and waited a few heartbeats before going in. Now her scent drifted to him through the crowd, his nostrils flared as he dragged it in. It wove through his system, creating a restless feeling. A waitress asked for his drink preference, though he had no interest in one, not ordering would look too suspicious. Ordering a shot of whiskey, he settled back and continued his observation.

  Are you just going to gawk at her then?

  Finn smiled. He had wondered how long Cian would wait before situating himself in this. And what do you suggest cousin? Wait for her to leave, then bind, and gag her?

  He felt his cousin’s laugh and smiled again. The waitress had returned with his drink and assumed the smile was for her benefit. Finn thanked her for the drink, paid for it, and then winced as she left her number on a napkin. Cain spoke through his laughter.

  It would make this easier—Drake grows restless.

  Keeping his eyes on Ali, Finn continued his conversation. Drake is always restless. Tristan will keep him in check. I will find a way to convince the woman to come with me.

  Cian’s laughter was hard to resist, but he did. A lone man laughing for no reason would bring unwanted attention. Swirling his drink, he stayed focused on Ali. When she raised her hand for another drink, he relaxed. She was in no hurry to leave, and that suited him just fine. What wasn't fine however, were the number of men that hit on her.

  A scowl creased his face, as he watched the one currently trying to gain her favor. The man’s hand casually reached out to lightly touch her shoulder as he bent close to her ear. The hand drifted down her back, stopping at the base before coming back up to rest once again on her shoulder. Seeing enough, he began to rise, then stopped when Ali took care of the problem herself by pushing the offender’s hand off of her shoulder. Finn smirked, the lady had spunk; he liked that. As the would-be suitor slunk away, he once again allowed himself to relax.

  Ali shook her head in astonishment. Really, did the guy think she was some kind of airhead that she would fall for such a pathetic line? She had tried to be subtle, as she had been with the others who had tried to pick her up. However, this one had been persistent and only blunt talking could get him to leave her alone.

  The new drink she had ordered, so much for stretching out the last one, sat off to the side. The condensation created by the melting ice, produced a watery ring on the aged bar top. Sighing, she spun the glass around. She had given up trying to figure out what was happening and why. The way she saw it, she could use a few hours of oblivion, and when she crawled out from it, she would be able to tackle the mess with clarity.

  Blowing out a breath, she began to gather up her belongings. It was time to go home, no sense putting off the inevitable. She slid off the stool, turned, and bumped into a pitcher of beer—which was attached to a very impressive male. Half of the contents of the pitcher sloshed over the rim soaking her shirt. Ali closed her eyes against the shock of the cold beer. They snapped open when the man yelled at her.

  “Watch it lady!” His eyes bore down on her.

  He was impressive yes, but totally ticked off. She blurted out her apology. “I am, so sorry.” It went over like salt in a wound.

  The man glared at her, “Yeah? Well you better be, you owe me a pitcher—unless—”

  He gave her the once over, Ali winced. His demeanor swiftly changed, his eyes cruised over her body, lingering on her chest. She could only imagine how she must look. A wet t-shirt contest came to mind. Oh God. She quickly shoved a hand into her purse and grabbed her wallet. She extracted some money and held it out to him. When his fingers closed over the money, and her hand, she tensed. Pulling her hand, she tried to make her escape without creating a scene. “Look, I said I was sorry. Just take the money, okay.”

  His hold tightened. “We can call it even if you’d join me at my table—or, we can call it a night.”

  There was no mistaking his meaning. Ali searched for an answer that would make him go away. However, she never got the chance.

  “I don't think the lady is interested.”

  The voice was like a sucker punch to her system. Images of Ireland, England and Scotland—heck the whole United Kingdom swirled through her imagination. Ali swiveled her head to look at—and up, at the new arrival, and her mouth went completely dry. Holy. Hotness. Looking like he had just walked out of a fantasy book, the man was what every woman hoped for when at a bar; and that he was single, and not gay.

  He towered over the beer guy by a foot, easily. His hair was dark and on the long side—nearly brushing his shoulders, which she found she didn't mind. What woman would want a Clark Kent hair-do, when an unruly pirate was in her presence? Strong facial features lent to the fantasy persona. Not in the classic sense, but more of a rugged mountain man sense. But it was his eyes that really had her knees wobbling. They were brown. Not a mousy, flat, brown—but a rich brown, like chocolate. They were locked onto her even though he had spoken to the beer guy.

  Beer guy took the offensive. “Mind your own business, buddy.”

  Finn clenched his jaw. This was a predator. A quick scan of his mind showed his plan was to offer aid in the form of helping Ali out of her clothes. The desire to drag the man out back and soundly thrash him was difficult to quash. Ignoring him, Finn addressed Ali. “Are you alright, lass?”

  Her eyes went wide and she was afraid they were about to cross. Come on Ali—talk. He’s going to think you're an idiot. He smiled, and she silently cursed. Dimples—well, that was just great—dark sinful eyes, and dimples. Then, something clicked inside of her. His voice, that accent where—realization hit her hard; so hard that she had to take a step back. Then she went into survival mode. She had to get out of here. “Um, yeah, I'm good. Thanks.” It was a lie. She was so far from being good. The voice that had been in her head earlier was flesh and bone.

  Her mind scrambled to try to make sense of it. He was a delusion, or, was supposed to be. She needed to get away from fantasy man. Fighting the urge to look at him, she pulled on her jacket to cover up her wet shirt. By now, beer guy realized he wasn’t going to scare and he mumbled something about crazy redheads, and left. As much as she would ha
ve loved to respond, her mind was already on an exit plan.

  Finn had to rein his desire. She was bewitching. Now that he was close to her, he could see the color of her eyes. They were green—not like the muted shade of mortals, but the brilliance of emeralds. Hair the color of hushed fire tumbled about her slim shoulders. Her features were indeed delicate, yet, he could see strength in her. Something murky in her shifted, and he grew suspicious. But before he could do anything more, she was brushing past him, sending sparks of energy up his arms. Cursing, he tried to stop her, but a crowd had formed at the bar and had swallowed her up. Cian’s warning came then, adding to his frustration.

  You better get moving Finn. Trouble is headed your way.

  Cursing again, he quickly made his way through the crowd, to the door. Once outside, he stilled his mind and searched for her. Cian.

  It was Tristan who answered. The woman is like a beacon. Something has been triggered, something more than just your contact with her. I will do what I can to keep the mortals unaware. Drake will run whatever interference he can. Cian is trying to discover the identity of the one coming for the woman.

  In the distance, thunder rumbled. Finn knew it was the calling card of their approaching guest. He had to get to Ali fast. The energy was coming off of her in waves. He doubted she even noticed. Dodging mortals milling along the sidewalk, he took off in her direction. Darkness pressed down upon him making it difficult to move with any fluidity. Such power told him that whoever was coming was going to be several notches above the puppets Mikel favoured. He had to get Ali to safety. Catching sight of her, he increased his speed.

  Chapter Six

  Someone was following her, she was sure of it. Ali chanced a quick look behind her. The sidewalks teamed with people enjoying a night out on the town, however none looked like they were stalking her. Nevertheless she trusted her gut and it was telling her to get moving. Her feet protested—three inch heels were not made for speed walking. But having whoever was following her, catch up to her really wasn’t an option. She quickened the pace ignoring the throbbing in her feet. When the voice came, she discovered she was being stalked by fantasy man.

  You can’t outrun what’s coming Ali.

  She tripped, nearly falling. Coming to a stumbling stop, Ali whipped her head around. But there was no one. Not another single soul. Where had they gone? There were people around just a few minutes ago. Hysteria gathered, and there was a dull thud in her head, marvellous, just what she needed—another headache. There was an answering thump in her chest. Her pulse tripped into overdrive and her muscles tightened.

  I need you to stay calm.

  She squeaked. His voice filled her head, and strangely, warmed her belly. Don't just stand there Ali move. She pivoted on the ball of a foot and started running, heels be damned, her bag slapped against her hip. Curses echoed in her head. What did he have to be upset about? He was the one invading her subconscious. “A bad day mixed with emotional upheaval, meds, then followed by alcohol—not a smart move Ali.” She berated herself in between breaths. Laughter came, creating goosbumps all over her body.

  We have an agreement there, lass.

  Fear skated up her spine alongside the goose pimples, but she didn’t slow down. Turning a corner, she felt the familiarity of her street and it helped calm her. Ha! She was going to make it. Her spark of victory was soon smothered as the ground quaked beneath her feet, throwing her off balance. Stumbling, Ali and hit the brick wall of a building; her bag fell to the ground. The sharp pain in her shoulder joined the growing pain in her head. Her survival instincts had her fighting against the need to just sit and cry. Crouching down, she scooped up her purse. An arm snaked around her middle and hauled her up. “Hey!” Ali kicked out with her legs, adrenaline taking over the fear. She thrust her elbows, coming into contact with a solid wall of muscle. A tingle ran up her arm—damnit, she hit her funny bone!

  Finn grunted against her attack. At the same time, he tried not to purge from the strong scent of beer. “You smell like a brewery.”

  Her struggles ceased immediately. Twisting her head around, she came face to face with the fantasy guy from the bar—un-freaking-believable. Her struggles began anew. She hadn't wanted it to be true. She had wanted it to be a figment of her imagination. “Let me go!” She swung back with a foot, but fell short of her goal. “I swear, if you don't let me go, I'm going to scream.”

  Holding her was like holding a live wire—the intensity of it threw him off balance. The energy emanating off of her, was a contradiction to the gentle flow it had been when he had first connected to her. The feel of her, even through the jacket, burned up his arms, and shot straight into his soul. Finn scowled as he tightened his hold. “Be still. We don't have time for this.”

  Ali went still, not because he had ordered it, but because of shock over his highhandedness. “Of all the nerve,” She shouted, wincing with the pain it caused in her head. “You’re the one accosting me!”

  Finn dragged her to his chest. A crack sounded above them. Turning his face towards the sky in time to see it light up in a flash of lightning, Finn swore, they were out of time. They had to find cover. Searching, he spied an opening to an alley. He began moving towards it.

  Ali’s eyes widened over the location he was hauling her to. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” She tried to gain some traction, but her boots just slid along the concrete. “You are not dragging me into an alley.” Dragging in a deep breath, Ali screamed—loudly.

  Finn swore, and feared the windows of the buildings would shatter. In reaction, he placed a hand over her mouth and continued moving. Gritting his teeth, he hoisted her up while scanning, and made his way toward the alley. It wasn’t the ideal place to face what was coming, but it would offer places in which to hide Ali while he engaged with the enemy.

  Holy cow, was this man made of steel? Ali tried to pry off the arm that had encircled her waist, but it was like trying to bend an iron band. The hand on her mouth made her mouth water at the thought of tasting it. How crazy was that? Probably just as crazy as the nagging feeling that he truly didn’t mean her any harm, that for some reason, she felt a level of security with him. This stranger was affecting her in ways that no one else ever had. Yet regardless of all that he made her feel, she wasn't going to let him haul her off somewhere. She wasn’t going down without a fight. Placing her hands over the one that covered her mouth, Ali bit down—hard.

  “Son of a bitch,” Finn turned her loose. He forgot about stopping the sting of her bite. “Are you completely mental?” He shook out his hand and glared at her.

  Smug, Ali hoisted her bag up, lopping the strap over her head so that it lay across her body, and dragged her hair out of her face. Her chest rose and fell deeply with the effort of taking in air. “Serves you right,” She put a few feet between them. “That’s what you get when you attack an innocent woman.” She then pivoted and ran back towards the sidewalk. Her escape was foiled by a cry of pain as her head exploded. The strength of the assault caused her to stagger back against the wall. Her vision blurred and her stomach rolled. No, no, no, this cannot be happening. Crossing her arms over her middle, Ali tried to still the queasiness with deep breaths. Her legs gave out, forcing her to sit on the ground.

  Finn felt her pain, but could do nothing to stop it. He had to get her to safety. Rushing over to her, he crouched down and held her by the shoulders. “Ali, you need to listen to me. You are in serious danger.”

  Lifting her head, she slapped at his hands and shot back. “Stop saying my name as if you know me.”

  She was terrified, but there was a temper brewing there as well. The atmosphere around them was in turmoil, yet he pushed to keep from transmitting his frustration, over her stubbornness. Cursing at himself a million times over, Finn lowered his voice to what he hoped was a gentle tone. “There is much I need to explain to you Ali—but we’re about to have company. Trust me when I say that they are not interested in your well being.”

 
Ali wasn't going to give up. With every ounce of willpower she possessed, she forced herself to stand. “You. Are. Insane.” She gave him a mighty shove and ran. She felt his shock as she sped by him, but wasn’t about to take the time to gloat over it.

  Finn blew out a breath of frustration and took off after her.

  Having troubles, cousin?

  Without slowing down, he responded to Cian’s teasing. Have you any idea of who is coming?

  Cian’s tone turned serious. No, and we’re being held back—you're on your own.

  He heard the unspoken statement, knew what lay there all too well. This is not the time for a lecture Cian.

  Continuing to hide who you are is going to be your downfall cousin, as well as the woman’s.

  Finn slammed the connection shut and increased his speed. He didn't need to be reminded of his shortcomings. As for Ali, he would not allow her to be taken. He may have relinquished the magick of his parents, but he did have the gifts of the immortal. However, if whoever was coming was more than a warrior, if they chose to come at him with magick, his natural gifts would be no good. Whipping up some wind could provide an affective distraction, but he didn’t hold out too much hope that it would be enough. And with the others blocked, any thought of aid had to be tossed aside.

  Ali counted every step she put between her and fantasy man. However, whatever ground she gained came to a halt as a silhouette slipped out from behind another building. Skidding to a stop, she watched in confused wonder as it took the form of a man. By the time her brain had registered what it was seeing, he was smiling at her. The kind of smile a killer gave before chopping you into little pieces. Though terror was choking her, she was determined to pass him. “Excuse me, you're in my way.”

  The man tilted his head. His nose wrinkled in disgust. “A drunken mortal is fated to end the Darkness?”