To Fight A Fate

by Jane Cousins

  Simmering, her blood heated, her skin feeling too tight, as if her dormant dragon half was pressing outwards, Riya determinedly locked it all down. Seven weeks. That’s all she needed to last.

  Surviving that time period though might come down to one crucial factor. Avoiding Marcus. Before she did something completely aberrant and hauled off and smacked the man hard. Not that he likely would even feel it. No, if she really wanted to upset Marcus’s world she would sick her brothers on his ass.

  The very thought of uptight, focused Marcus going head to head with the Tong boys made her want to laugh. No, she couldn’t do it. She didn’t hate Marcus. No one deserved that, no matter how irritating they were. She just didn’t like him very much. Okay, yes, he was attractive, but the man was just so very, very… annoying.

  Marcus had been very clear on the fact that he didn’t do distractions. It would be pointless for Riya to spend anymore time with a man who was so focused on his computer screen that he never looked up and enjoyed life. Embraced new things. Or was willing to go with the flow when Fate flung a few surprises at him.

  Nope. They clearly rubbed each other the wrong way. And the less time she spent in Charming’s company, the better. Swivelling, Riya made a fast track for the door, murmuring a goodbye. It wasn’t until she was out in the quiet corridor that she realised they’d never gotten around to talking about her salary. Too bad, she was so not going back in there, she’d just decide what she was worth and bill him accordingly.

  A small, wicked smile tilted the corners of Riya’s lips upwards at the delightful thought of Marcus’s horrified reaction when he saw her final bill. It was good for the man to have his ordered world shaken up occasionally. Not that she intended to spend much time or energy in that direction. It would just be a happy by-product of her stay here.

  Yes, she would stay out of not-so-Charming’s way, but that didn’t mean she had to stop finding ways to needle him. After all, she wasn’t just a Fate Weaver, she was half-dragon, she had hidden claws. And for some insane reason she had the strangest desire to sink those claws into Marcus.

  Chapter Five

  Marcus grit his teeth to keep a huge yawn from escaping. He was weary to his bones. He’d spent the last two days discreetly sourcing chemicals through a complex variety of shell companies that otherwise would have sent up red flags in every law enforcement, and political agency in the world. This morning he had mixed the lethal corrosive substances together an attempted to obliterate the chaos rubies for the eighty-fourth time.

  Only his quick reflexes had saved his sight.

  To say the experiment had been an utter failure would be to sugar-coat it. He’d showered for over twenty minutes, but the smell of scorched metal and ozone appeared to have embedded itself in his skin.

  His back ached something fierce. His head throbbed. The left side of his face was too tight and hot. And he was still getting used to his new hair cut. Hacking off the burnt bits had seemed liked the best solution but now he was left with a choppy mess that was was both too long and too short. Yet he could barely bring himself to care. Those bloody cursed rubies were indestructible.

  It was official, he’d tried everything.

  And yet, Marcus couldn’t give up, wouldn’t give up. He just needed to re-group. Grab some sleep and approach the matter in a whole new direction. What that direction would be as yet, he had no fucking idea.

  What he did know was that he didn’t have the time or energy for a damn logistics meeting. But on the other hand, if they wanted to protect their cover identity, then he needed to take this seriously.

  Rafe sauntered into the conference room, followed by Daniel, who acted as host of the show. With his shaggy brown curls, round gold rimmed glasses and habitually wrinkled casual clothes, Daniel exuded an air of absent-minded brilliance. Reinforced by the fact that he more often than not had his head buried in a book. This time was no different as Rafe nudged the younger man down onto a seat at the table before he could walk into the wall of display weapons, and cause himself serious injury.

  Vivian Dupree came next, a bustling whirlwind of energy. Dark brown intelligent eyes, dark coffee coloured skin, with a friendly wide smile. There was only the faintest hint of a limp in her step, left over from a brutal attack by a particularly nasty vampire queen who’d been stalking Nate two years ago.

  Following the attack, they’d had no choice but to fill Vivian in on the truth. With the veil lifted, and the news that the supernatural was real, Vivian had insisted upon joining the fight against the bad guys.

  It was either that, she said, or collapse in terror in a corner of a dark room and fade away. And Vivian was clearly no quitter. Though they all knew she still suffered nightmares, Vivian had proven resilient. Insisting the Elite Warriors train her to defend herself.

  Vivian had begun working at Maat Productions as a receptionist, intending to work her way up the ladder. She hadn’t let the attack by a bat-crap crazy vampire queen kill that dream. Applying herself diligently, learning everything there was to know about putting together a show like Para-X. It had been a natural progression for her to step into the role of producing the show eight months ago.

  Being innately bossy, and completely unafraid of the large men she worked with made Vivian perfect for the role of Producer. “Is this everyone?”

  “Sorry.” Riya slipped into the room, hurrying to take a seat at the large boardroom table.

  Vivian smiled. She and Riya, with a petulant Dimity in tow, had crossed paths several times over the last few days in the gym and in the corridors of the production floor. “Dimity won’t be joining us?”

  “She’s focused on… a personal project at the moment. I told her I’d fill her in on all the essential information.” Hmm, although project was kind of stretching the truth. But Riya didn’t think anyone here would understand Dimity spending over three hours trying to take the perfect photo of her recently manicured nails. Riya didn’t understand it.

  It seemed so trivial.

  Marcus’s blue - currently blood shot - eyes narrowed. He’d been distracted for a moment by Riya’s appearance. Something about seeing her both heated and calmed his blood. It was a strange reaction and one he was considering adding to the array of symptoms he was still shaking off thanks to the earlier explosion. Riya’s update on Dimity’s whereabouts helped to re-focus his attention. “You do have her under control, don’t you?”

  Riya shrugged, studying Marcus. Charming, considering he was a semi-immortal Elite Warrior in the service of the Goddess of truth and balance, did not look well. He was pale, except for the slowly fading bright red slash across one side of his face, the skin peeling in several places. His eyes were blood shot. And his hair, it was like someone had taken a weed whacker to it.

  Charming looked rough. And tired. Just what mischief had he been getting up to lately? Hmm, and why was the room so quiet? Oh, yes. He’d asked a question about Dimity. Riya shrugged again. “Control? That’s a strong word.”

  “I’m not liking the sound of this.” Marcus chuffed out an impatient sigh. “You’re supposed to be the monster wrangler.”

  Riya’s temper shot skywards. “It would be easier if Dimity was in reality a monster.”

  “Tell me about.” Rafe rolled his eyes. “At least then I could just get the tranquiliser gun and we’d have this thing in the bag.”

  Riya slammed her hand down hard on the solid surface of the table. “Stop it. You all need to remember we are dealing with a nineteen-year-old girl here. One who is out of her comfort zone, and acting out because she is essentially alone and scared.”

  Vivian nodded. “I agree with Riya. Any ideas on how we can go about making her feel like part of the team?”

  “Yes, you guys, all the Elite Warriors, need to start treating her like a normal, bratty teenager, not some nuclear device that you have to handle with care.”

  “But she’s not just some regular teenager.” Rafe pointed out. “She’s the heir to the Forrest fortune.
”

  “Which means nothing. For the next five years she’s under the thumb of Heath Gammon and her step-mother. As far as I can tell she has no actual real friends. No support base. She has no one in her life who has ever cared enough to call her out over her behaviour.”

  “We are not babysitters.” Marcus growled out from between clenched teeth.

  “It’s not exactly in my job description either, Charming. But you asked for my help and I’m telling you that it takes a village to raise a child.”

  “She’s practically a grown woman.”

  “In some ways, yes. Maturity wise, not yet, she’s not.”

  “What exactly do you need us to do?” Rafe queried.

  “Start treating Dimity like you would a kid sister. Compliment her if she’s doing something right. Tease her if she’s acting like a brat. And tell her off when she’s being rude or a pain in your ass.”

  “Sounds like a lot of work.” Marcus sighed, rubbing at his eyes. Damn, his head was aching.

  “And it will get worse before it gets better. But let’s face it, you’re stuck with Dimity, and I won’t be around forever to act as a buffer. So, agreed, you’ll start treating her like one of the gang? And you’ll tell the rest of team?” Riya watched heads nod in agreement around the table. “Daniel? Do you agree?”

  Daniel looked up from his book, storm grey eyes blinking as he pulled off his glasses and looked around the table. “Riya? When do you get here?” A smile blazing across his gorgeous face.

  Riya grinned back at her cousin. Daniel could only be described as a nerd. Though with his height, at just over six feet, lean but fit build and shaggy dark curls, Riya would bet most women would say he fell on the hot end of the nerd spectrum. “I’m working as the Wardrobe Stylist on the show for the next few weeks, helping your new sidekick settle in.”

  Daniel ran fingers through his chaotic curls. “That’s great.” He looked around at the other occupants of the table. “Did I miss the meeting again?”

  Vivian laughed softly. “No, we’re just getting started. So put the book away Daniel, and pay attention. Marcus, you want to call up the schematics?”

  They all turned to look as the blank screen on the far right wall flickered to life.

  “This is the Montague in New York. The hotel was famous during prohibition for having two hidden speak-easies; one in the basement and one on the eighth floor. Criminals and celebrities flocked to the Montague to stay and to party. Since then, the Montague has been a slowly fading flower. Until it was acquired by a development conglomerate last year. Currently the building is three quarters of the way through a five star re-fit.”

  “Hotel still?” Rafe asked.

  Marcus frowned as all the characters on his tablet blurred together momentarily, damn he was tired. Blinking, he forced himself to focus. “No. The firm intend to transform the basement up to the third floor into a series of high-end adventure escape rooms. Ones where you are served food and alcohol while you tackle the riddles.”

  “And the other floors?” Rafe was taking notes, as was Vivian.

  “The fourth will be divided into suites, where teams will gather before and after they begin the challenges. More food and drink to be served there as well. The fifth through to the seventh floors will have a series of interconnecting rooms that will have a murder mystery theme. Which just leaves the top floor. The eighth floor will be returned to its former speak-easy glory days and operate as a bar.”

  “And Heath Gammon thinks we should go there, why?” Vivian twirled her pen between her fingers like a baton.

  Marcus rubbed at the back of his neck. His head was pounding and he couldn’t seem to smell anything but corrosive metal and burnt hair. He needed a gallon of coffee and some food in his near future so he could get back to work. “One of Gammon’s golfing buddies is on the conglomerate’s board of directors. It’s the usual story. The workers have been reporting tools going missing. One was trapped in an escape room for over three hours. Swore none of the doors would open, but when a colleague went looking for him the door swung open with ease. Elevators are moving up and down but there are no electrical problems. And there have been several injuries, tools coming to life, things falling. The re-fit team are refusing to return to work until something is done.”

  “Do the tools turn up again?” Daniel was the one now furiously taking notes.

  “Mostly. But on other floors. Or in rooms that no one has casual access to.”

  “And have the workers seen anything?” Daniel followed up.

  “Yes. Shadows. Flickers of movement out the corner of the eye, but no one there when they investigated. I’ve sent you the details, check your email. The place has a rich history connected to quite a few mob deaths back in the day, so plenty of juicy poltergeist cover stories to choose from.”

  Daniel’s storm grey eyes sparkled, he loved nothing more than a new research project. “I’ll take a look at the reports and have a work up on what, or rather who, I think is causing the problem before we leave.”

  Rafe locked eyes with Vivian. “It’s a big place. We need to discuss equipment.”

  “Why don’t we talk about it over coffee in the break room?”

  “Good idea.”

  The meeting was over, Rafe and Vivian wandered out together, deep in conversation. Daniel’s head immediately bobbed down and he was once more engrossed in his book. Which just left Riya facing Marcus, who stood up, wincing slightly. Yes, there was definitely something up with Charming.

  “Are you okay?”

  Marcus blinked. The beautiful Riya was standing in front of him, concern filling those stunning light hazel eyes. “Hi.”

  Riya frowned. Charming was practically swaying on his feet from fatigue. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.” Marcus found himself smiling for no particular reason. “You look pretty today. That colour suits you, what do you call that?”

  Riya glanced down at the simple sundress she’d chosen to wear, pairing it with some summery matching wedges. “Red.” She offered dryly. There was something seriously wrong with Marcus, and that choppy hair of his was beyond bugging her. He’d obviously been hacking at it recently, and from a few remaining singed ends she could only guess that he’d had a near miss with a flame thrower. “Come on.” She grabbed Marcus by the arm. “Bye, Daniel.” Unsurprised to receive only a distracted grunt in farewell.

  Marcus concentrated putting one boot in front of the other. “Where are we going?”

  Riya guided him down the wide corridor towards the bank of elevators. “Your place. What floor is it on?”

  Marcus chuffed a laugh. “Eighty-Four. That was kind of easy.” He smiled at her, reaching out to tug on a glossy lock of her hair. Hmm, it felt like silk, just as he’d imagined. “Which I suppose makes you easy.”

  “What are you rambling on about?” Riya gave him a nudge hard enough to get him to step into the elevator when the doors slid open. Moving to wrap her arm tightly around his waist as Marcus stumbled slightly.

  “I told you that you looked pretty, and next thing I know you’re hustling me off to bed. See, easy.”

  “You… never mind. Tell me, Charming, have you suffered a recent blow to the head?”

  “Nope.” He watched as the lights danced over the call buttons, blurring together as the elevator ascended. “But I did kind of land on it.”

  “A-huh.” The elevator chimed softly, the doors swishing open. With another nudge, Riya got Marcus to move forward. “And how did that happen? The landing on your head thing?”

  “There was an explosion… kaboom.” Marcus spread his hands abruptly apart to demonstrate and almost fell on his face.

  “Crap. Don’t do that.” Riya winced in sympathy as she lost hold of him and he careered into a nearby wall, bouncing off it. Quickly she grabbed for him and did her best to get him straightened up and moving forward down the corridor.

  “You just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”

&n
bsp; She thought about abandoning him then and there. But no, she was too big of a softie. Damn her kind hearted soul. Riya winced again, stumbling into Marcus as he came to an abrupt halt. The entire side of her body plastered up against him felt too warm and her dress suddenly felt too flimsy and too constricting at the same time. “Why did you stop?”

  “We’re here.” Marcus waved a hand at the closed door before them, leaning forward he slapped his right palm down on the door sensor and it swung open. “Come.” He pulled Riya in after him, stumbling over his own boots slightly. “Let the ravishing begin.”

  Riya wasn’t sure whether to laugh or leave. She settled for letting go of Marcus’s waist. Watching as without her support he immediately lost his balance. Falling like a tree in the forest, heavily. Ouch, hardwood floors, that had to hurt.

  Marcus rolled over, giving Riya an assessing blue eyed leer. “That eager to have me you can’t even wait until we hit the bedroom? My kind of woman.”

  Riya found herself laughing. He really was kind of charming, in an idiotic, yet hot way.

  “Come, have your wicked way with me.”

  Doing her best to ignore him, Riya contemplated the logistics of getting someone of Marcus’s size and weight back on his feet. At the same time mentally berating herself, she was in no way, even a little bit, tempted by his offer. Okay, maybe a smidgeon. There was a very small possibility things low in her body were turning liquid and heated. But the man was clearly concussed and talking nonsense.

  Sighing, Riya leaned down, grabbed Marcus by the wrist and started to heave. Good, progress, his head and shoulders were off the floor, now for the rest of him. She could do this, she was strong, she heaved harder.

  “But tomorrow.” Marcus held a finger up to his lips. “Sssshhh, okay. We’ll just bang some boots. Get it all out. Nothing serious. Hah, serious! Me, and you? Can you imagine?”

  Riya’s lips pressed together tightly. Pulling harder. She would not let go. The man was still hurting and clearly concussed. And continuing to ramble. He probably had no idea what he was saying. So it would be pointless to engage him in a discussion. Besides, she kind of agreed with him. Charming and her? The very idea. They so did not make sense.