by Addison Fox
Goodwill, my ass, Ajax thought. Dumb, stupid and short-sighted was a better description.
Fuck, some people really didn’t get the value of their antiques.
Since its “gifting,” the obelisk had stood in Central Park, largely ignored. The latent power held inside the monument would make people shudder if they knew. This actually fit his plans nicely, because he had every intention of using all that power all by himself.
Enyo only thought she held all the cards. Once he had the stones, he’d be in charge. Hell, he already owned her body.
“Why’d you drag me here?”
“I think we need to speed up our plans a bit.”
“I programmed my niece’s cell phone like you asked. It’s not my fault you can’t close the deal and capture her. Frankly, I’m starting to wonder if you really have the authority you think you do.”
Ajax shoveled the last bite into his mouth and threw the wrapper on the ground, his back teeth grinding through the meat and cheese.
“I’ve told you before, I’m handling this project.”
“Poorly.”
Ajax leaped across the space, picked up Wyatt’s pudgy little body and slammed him against the obelisk’s base. “I’ve got it under control.”
Wyatt held up his hands, palms out. “Calm down, all right?”
“How did your conversation with Enyo go? Did you share the information with her as we discussed?”
“I’ve told her only what you want her to know. The bitch nearly zapped my nuts off, but I stuck to our plan.”
Ajax let Wyatt drop to the ground. “What did you tell her?”
“That my niece didn’t know anything.”
“And she believed you?”
“Why wouldn’t she? My spinster niece isn’t exactly setting the world on fire, if you know what I mean. She slaves over her job like it’ll bring her happiness. Or bring back my brother.” Wyatt emitted a high-pitched giggle. “I fixed that problem a long time ago.”
“You really don’t have any redeeming value, do you?”
Wyatt’s grin was cocky. “Not much.”
“Are you ready to implement phase two?”
“I’ve got my part down cold.”
“Repeat it to me.”
A heavy sigh escaped those enormous cheeks on a rush of air. “I’m to go to Enyo and convince her to ambush my niece instead of trying to steal the stones directly.”
Ajax nodded. “And when Enyo balks at the suggestion, as she inevitably will?”
“I’ll tell her that my niece already has plans to show the stones to her grandmother and me in a private viewing and we can pluck them—and her—off then.”
“Perfect.”
“I need to go now. I’ve got breakfast with Mother. Can’t be late.”
Ajax waved a hand in dismissal as he dug into his pocket for another burger. “Yes. Go.” As he sank his teeth into the greasy meat, satisfaction surged in his chest in time with the energy that flooded his system from the food.
Wyatt really was useful. The little toady would divert Enyo off the scent of the hunt for the stones by letting her think they would be easy pickings. In the meantime, he could deal with Ava on his own, grabbing her and getting her into a safe house until he could finish gathering the stones on his own.
It really was a perfect double cross. And by the time Ms. High-and-Mighty Goddess of War knew what was going on, he’d have the stones and there wouldn’t be anything she could do about it.
’Bout time, too. They’d spent far too long together and he was getting sick of her.
The obelisk cast a heavy shadow in the early-morning light as he polished off the burger. Damn but he was burning through a lot of energy. Seven ports back and forth to London. The energy he kept expending to pose as Dr. Martin at the museum. And then that superior fuckup this morning at the cemetery.
Were his Destroyers inferior to Enyo’s? He knew he’d had to pick off those who were least loyal to her—generally the ones who weren’t quite as well versed in their art—but they were still killing machines.
As he threw another empty wrapper after the others, he ported himself back to the museum, behind the locked doors of Dr. William Martin’s oh-so-stately office.
The gig wasn’t so bad. Thick, plush swivel chair. State-of-the-art technology. Huge office that overlooked the park. But, thankfully for him, he’d always had a little more ambition than “not so bad.”
Nope, he wasn’t stopping until he was truly the badass of the universe. It was that image that kept him going.
As Ajax powered up Martin’s computer, he worked through his next meet with Enyo. How to play that one?
Valued sidekick?
Tender, understanding lover?
Crazed, vengeful lunatic, hovering on the brink of madness—a brink only she could calm him from?
Oh yeah. Now that sounded like fun.
“Dr. MacIntyre. I’m Ava Harrison. This is my colleague and the head of security on this project from Emerald Securities, Dr. Brody Talbot.”
“Lovely to meet you both.” Dr. Lorna MacIntyre extended her hand to both of them, her pinched expression suggesting she felt anything but the polite sentiment.
“I’m sorry we’re late. Had a bit of trouble finding our way over.”
The dark slashes that passed for eyebrows shot upward. “You didn’t take the car service arranged for you?”
Ava reached for a piece of hair lying flush against her lapel. With a quick twirl, she shot MacIntyre a surprised glance. “Car service?”
“Yes. We discussed that when you confirmed the appointment? The museum arranged car service for you from your hotel. It was part of your itinerary.”
With a diffident shrug, Ava put a breathy pout in her voice. “Oh well.”
At the dark look that swam in the other woman’s eyes, Ava knew she’d hit the right note—dumb New York bitch. MacIntyre handed them each a visitor security badge, then began a brisk walk across the Great Hall to the museum’s offices.
As Ava walked through the museum next to MacIntyre, she put a subtle swing in her hips. The Louboutins made it easy, the height of the heels naturally aiding the swing. Having Brody so near made it even easier.
Dr. MacIntyre led them into the office area of the museum. “We need to take care of some paperwork in my office first.”
“I thought we’d see the stone first.”
“Paperwork. Always paperwork, Dr. Harrison.”
Professional interest flared as Ava compared the British Museum’s offices to her own. If the moment hadn’t been so serious, she’d have laughed that competition could rear its ugly head in the oddest of ways.
As they crossed the threshold of MacIntyre’s office, a sudden image of her mother rose up in Ava’s thoughts. Big smiles and an encouraging hug as she read the line of a book, all by herself. Cat in the Hat, wasn’t it?
Another thought tumbled on top of it. Her mother leaning over, kissing her knee through a Band-Aid as soft, blond hair fell around her face.
“Dr. Harrison, are you all right?” Although the question should have held concern, MacIntyre’s stern tone held the opposite as she stood on the other side of her desk, hands on her hips.
Ava shook her head, the memory fading at the narrow-eyed gaze from MacIntyre. “Yes, yes, fine.”
“Well then, please sign the paperwork.”
A quick glance down revealed all the paperwork lined up in even rows, with Xs for where she needed to sign.
How long had she been daydreaming?
And where were these memories coming from? Although she certainly thought about her mother, and often, losing her so young had left Ava with very few tangible, specific things to remember.
She caught Brody’s eye where he stood sentinel against the door, a puzzled frown on his face.
With a discreet cough, Ava reached for the pen and sought something to say as she worked her way through the bureaucratic red tape that was museum life. She was actually grateful fo
r the mundane task—anything that might make her seem less like a lunatic. She had an important role to play, but she’d started feeling strange the minute she’d set foot in this room—like being in a dream.
“Do you have the stone here in your office?”
“Heavens, no.” MacIntyre let out a small, nervous laugh. “The stone is safe in security’s hands. We’ll go there next.”
“Of course.”
Fresh out of conversation and with a stack of forms still to sign, Ava searched desperately for something—anything—to keep her focused.
And promptly found herself staring into the chocolate brown eyes of her mother as they rubbed noses in the cold winter air of Central Park after building a snowman.
Ava felt the carefree giggles welling up in her throat and slammed a hand over her mouth.
What was wrong with her? This was the most important thing she’d been asked to do in her life and she kept slipping into daydreams?
Taking a deep breath, she forced her mind back to the present.
Her gaze landed on a framed photograph of a small boy on the doctor’s desk. Dr. MacIntyre was in the picture, too, holding the child tightly to her chest. Of their own accord, her eyes shifted to where the doctor sat across the desk. A penetrating, unkind stare met hers across the small, cramped space of the office, shooting sheer panic to the tips of Ava’s nerve endings and back. She was suddenly very grateful Brody was standing against the door.
MacIntyre’s cold gaze was at odds with the happy woman in the picture, and at even greater odds with the memories of her own mother that danced in Ava’s head.
Every ounce of feminine instinct she possessed screamed there was a problem.
Shaking it off like the ethereal dreams of her own mother, Ava again focused on the paperwork. Lorna MacIntyre’s mothering skills had nothing to do with her job.
Nothing.
With a flourish, Ava signed the last page, thrilled they could finally go get the stone and get out of there. The day had been taxing enough, but now that she’d begun worrying about the parenting skills of a stranger, it was clearly time to get the job done and get out.
MacIntyre grabbed her purse from the back of her chair and came around to stand next to Ava. “Ready, Dr. Harrison?”
Unbidden, another memory of her mother swamped Ava’s senses. Her mother’s arms wrapped around her as they flew down a large slide at an amusement park. A half scream, half giggle erupted from her throat as their bodies undulated over the hills of the ride.
“Dr. Harrison!”
“Yes?”
“Is something bothering you?”
What was wrong with her? While the memories were lovely, she had no idea where they were coming from.
MacIntyre shook her head. “Let’s get a move on, shall we?”
Brody expected obstacles; he was prepared for them. He braced himself for the shock of electricity as they took each twist and turn on the path toward the museum’s security department.
None came.
What he hadn’t expected was Ava’s erratic attitude. What was wrong with her? He knew they’d told her to play the flighty scientist, but why did she keep going in and out of a trance?
“Just this way. We have two more turns and then I’ll turn you both over to security.” MacIntyre pushed them through a door marked PRIVATE, NO ADMITTANCE, then stopped in front of a large, heavy door. Brody saw her take a quick inhale of breath before she squared her shoulders. A flicker of unease ran through him as he and Ava followed her through the door, straight onto the museum’s loading dock.
Unease morphed to the high alert of an adrenaline burn, but still he wasn’t fast enough.
MacIntyre grabbed Ava before he even realized, pulling her out of his range and pushing her toward a set of stairs.
Six Destroyers surrounded the raised platform of the loading area.
And with Ava firmly behind her, MacIntyre pointed the business end of a far-too-steady gun straight at his head.
Brody’s lion flicked its tail as he assessed the situation. The Destroyers were all popping with static electricity as each bounced from foot to foot, but MacIntyre was the only one with a gun.
Risk getting himself shot and potentially leaving Ava alone?
Or use the element of surprise to his advantage?
In the end, it was MacIntyre’s insane calm that decided it. Nothing like ruffling a few feathers.
With an ease born of millennia of battle, Brody let the lion off its leash. Raw fury and a commanding roar echoed through the loading dock as the lion leaped from its position on his back, straight for Lorna MacIntyre’s outstretched arms.
The woman let out a choked scream as the large claws dragged their way through the wool of her suit jacket. The gun clattered to the ground as a second scream followed the first.
Her purse followed the gun to land a few feet from Ava’s left leg.
“Ava! Grab the gun.”
His lion shook its mane and roared at MacIntyre as the woman let out yet another scream. Brody kept watch on them as his gaze kept darting out toward the Destroyers. All six worked at a stealthy pace, narrowing the space between them while ensuring any possible escape off the loading dock was blocked.
“Ava!” Brody shifted his gaze quickly toward Ava. Why was the gun still lying on the ground, where MacIntyre dropped it? “Pick up the gun, Ava.”
Nope, nothing. Just a blank stare as a small smile ghosted her lips, her eyes glazed in a dreamy look.
What was wrong with her? MacIntyre had had no time to drug them. She hadn’t even offered them water.
“Ava!”
If he moved close enough to get the gun, he and his lion would be too far out of range for the beast to stay on top of MacIntyre. But if he didn’t move soon, the Destroyer closest to Ava would have the gun.
“Ava!”
Ava’s gaze shifted from dreamy to aware just as the Destroyer stepped into range of the gun. The asshole reached down as Ava finally moved with purpose toward the weapon. MacIntyre be damned, Brody and his lion leaped toward Ava and the Destroyer as Kane and Quinn appeared on the loading dock.
The long, lethal tail of Kane’s scorpion swatted at the Destroyer as his hand closed around the butt of the Glock. The harsh, punishing arc of the powerful tail caught him off balance as the gun went flying through the air to land in the far corner of the loading dock.
Brody kicked MacIntyre’s purse out of reach of the woman in the event she had another gun in it, then pushed MacIntyre toward Ava with his lion’s paw. A quick glance at Ava showed clear eyes and alert features.
Thank the gods.
“You okay?”
“Of course.”
Of course? “You weren’t fine a minute ago.”
He saw the confusion chase its way across her features, then understanding as she acknowledged wherever she’d been in her head.
Quinn tossed Ava a pair of plastic restraints as he ported across the space next to her. “Tie her up. We’ll question her when we’re finished here.”
Satisfied Ava was safe in a small alcove, her back to the outer wall of the museum, Brody turned back to his brothers. With matched moves born out of endless battles, they charged at the same time, the beasts of their tattoos fighting right alongside of them.
Brody heard the battle cry leave his lips, the deep, guttural growl as he fought to protect his woman. Baring his teeth at the Destroyer closest to him, he snarled, “Bring it on.”
Kane’s scorpion had emerged as well. About six feet in length, its large tail flicked in great, menacing arcs while its claws flashed with lethal grace in the cold, blustery London afternoon.
Two more Destroyers stepped up, light on the balls of their feet. Kane flipped a discarded shovel he’d found back and forth between his hands. “These guys are tired. I haven’t felt a fireball yet.”
Brody focused on his body, using his nerve endings to get a sense of his surroundings. Stray wisps of energy floated around them, but
Kane was right. No fireballs. Nothing hardcore.
These guys were tired. But why? It wasn’t like Enyo to be so sloppy, sending her own minions into battle in a state that put them out of commission.
With a snarl, one half of the pair that stood opposite Brody taunted him. “Your girlfriend’s next. She’s quite a sweet piece, Leo. I’m going to have some fun with her, once we get rid of you and your friends.”
“If you think you’re gonna make it that long, you guys are even dumber than we give you credit for. And that’s pretty damn hard, isn’t it, Kane?”
“Impossible.”
Shouts rang out as the next pair stepped up, their battle cries echoing around the loading dock. Brody swung out with a foot, catching his guy off balance. His lion was almost on him when the asshole pulled a nifty trick of his own, kicking straight out as he fell.
The solid ground beneath his feet shifted as Brody tumbled backward. Unable to catch himself, he instinctively shifted his arms to break his fall.
And cracked his head against the concrete.
A haze of pain enveloped him. He tried to open his eyes, but throbbing waves attacked him like a thousand knife points to his skull. He slammed his eyes closed, stars floating behind his eyelids as agonizing twinges ran the length of his spinal cord.
“Brody!” Kane’s voice rang out just as his lion roared. He opened his eyes in time to see the same Destroyer back on his feet and headed straight for him.
Seeing no way he could get to his feet in time, Brody imagined himself across the lot. As the instructions to port filled his system, the large claw of Kane’s scorpion snapped the asshole’s neck in half.
As his body reassembled, Brody hollered at Kane from across the length of the loading dock. “I owe ya one!”
Kane grunted, swung out and hit his Destroyer square in the windpipe. He used the handle of the shovel to drop the death blow, hollering as he delivered the lethal movements.
“Behind you, Brody!” Brody spun around, the swift movement causing his still-throbbing head to explode again. Although the pain had faded somewhat, he’d taken quite a hit to the head. Even his rapid powers of healing weren’t quick enough to fight it off just yet.