Ivory (The Manhattan Ten Series Book 1)

by Lola Dodge

  Armed with pale Chanel pumps, I was ready for the evening. I let my long platinum curls cascade past my shoulders, but so finely dressed, I looked naked without jewelry.

  The women of my tribe made skins and furs glamorous, and they knew even better ways to decorate. I reached for those old memories as I reached for the cold inside me, and touching a long-rusted use of my power, spun out a string of ice diamonds.

  I decked my ears and draped my neck. They glittered like the real things, though they were freezing to the touch. No one would get close enough to notice the difference.

  The elevator dinged. Jag wouldn’t have bothered, so it couldn’t be him. My shoulders relaxed. I’d recovered my calm, but I couldn’t be too careful around him. “Yes?”

  Angel stepped out in a curve-hugging black cocktail gown. “Wow. Are those diamonds?” She squinted. “But the molecular structure...”

  I shouldn’t hope to fool a super brain. “Family secret.”

  “I see.” Angel grinned. Clearly, she did see. “The boys are waiting downstairs, but I wanted to give you the option. We can ride together and make a group appearance or you and I can take a private car.”

  All of them in one car would be too much to handle, but then again, I hadn’t met the whole roster. With the media frenzy an M-10 press event would stir, I didn’t want any surprises at the venue. Better to make the introductions early. “I’ll ride with your group.”

  “Perfect.” Angel ushered me into the elevator. “The boys will be on their best behavior or they’ll hear it from me.”

  I hoped she could deliver.

  We traveled into the building’s bowels and a sprawling underground garage. Fancy foreign cars and remodeled American vintages took up the closest spots. Obviously not the regular employee parking lot. A massive stretch Hummer idled in the aisle, and its door opened by itself as we approached.

  Someone was already using his powers.

  Hopefully, the night didn’t end with me using mine.

  I had to stay calm. Controlled. Appease the press.

  This would blow over and I’d be back to my apartment soon. Surely, I could find a job at another airline?

  Angel climbed in first and immediately began reseating. “You can’t sit next to her, Jag. No. Cyclone, to the back. Thunder, over here. Good.” When everything was to her liking, she peeked over her shoulder. “Ready, Ivory?”

  As much as I’d ever be.

  I took a deep breath and stepped inside. It was a smorgasbord of leather and testosterone. Big men in expensive suits set off every one of my internal alarms.

  Not just men. Predators.

  Heroes with deadly powers. As soon as the door closed, I was trapped with them.

  Jag caught my gaze first, his yellow eyes glowing. He whistled. “Damn.”

  “Jag!” Angel tossed her clutch at him. He caught the bag before it smacked his face, and though he smiled, his gaze never left mine.

  Suddenly I felt the breeze from the low neckline, and the ice diamonds chilled my warming skin. Stay calm.

  “Thanks for joining us.” Tank nodded from his seat. “It will be painless. Canapés, cocktails and some glad-handing the press.”

  If that was what he called painless. I shuddered.

  “Sit here.” Angel ushered me to the empty space between her and a hero I hadn’t yet met. “This is Thunder. He won’t annoy you.”

  “What an introduction.” The man gave a gentle eye-roll but offered a hand. He sported neat blond curls and an impeccable green pin stripe suit that set off his eyes. “Pleasure. And stunning gown.”

  “Angel chose it for me.” Seating charts seemed to be another one of her talents. This Thunder was no less a danger than the others—I could feel the deadly energy hidden in his posture—but a heavy shellacking of civility polished his edges.

  “Good eye, as usual.” Thunder nodded to Angel before returning his attention to me. “You haven’t met the crew?”

  “Don’t be so charming,” Jag grumbled. The pouty, flat-lipped Cyclone was his only company in the car’s far back corner, and I was glad for the space from both of them.

  Not that I could breathe easily in such an assembly. “I haven’t been introduced.”

  “Allow me.” Thunder green eyes brightened with amusement. “Jag is our cat man, though he seems to be in the doghouse at the moment. Has anyone warned you not to piss off Angel?”

  Angel crossed her arms and muttered something in Spanish, obviously directed at Jag. I nodded. I had her measure already. She was sweet on the surface, but more than capable, and resolute as iron. If she could control a carful of men like this, she was fearsome indeed.

  “Smart lady. Cyclone does the wind, water, and cheesy pick-up lines while Nihil handles the full-scale destructions.” I avoided eye contact with Cyclone, but Nihil deserved a glance. He was a hulk of a man, not as tall as Jag, but broader and bearded and cloaked in a deadly aura that fit his name.

  “Our fearless leader you know, and his shadow is Ruin. Red Ruin, with the lightning jazz hands.” The man with the so-called jazz hands flipped Thunder off, and a spark of red danced on the tip of his middle finger.

  “Jet’s super fast. Great for picking up pizzas.” Jet scowled. His long black hair and chiseled cheekbones made his appearance haughty, but his aura vibrated with the speed that was his power.

  Thunder continued. “And Steel? What do you do again?”

  The blond grinned and flexed his impressive muscles. “I kick ass.”

  “That’s our happy hero family,” Thunder said. “It’ll be nice to have some new blood.”

  “This isn’t permanent.” It was important to keep that clear. Thunder could call it a family, but it was more like a pack of wolves, with every hunter’s eye trained in my direction. They’d find me no easy meat. My inner huntress ached to beat back their challenge. Yet another reason they were so dangerous. “I’ll be gone as soon as this blows over.”

  “What if it doesn’t blow over?” Tank asked.

  “It will. There are...places I can hide.” As well he knew with his mind-reading power. Maybe I couldn’t go home, but there were other icy wastelands where I could take sanctuary and wait things out.

  “Screw that.” Jag’s outburst drew the attention away. “You were made for this.”

  “For riding in large cars?” I shouldn’t have responded to Jag at all, but the more he spoke as if he knew me, the more I needed to correct him.

  Irritating cat man.

  “For being a hero.” Claws slid from the tips of Jag’s fingers, slicing into the leather seat. “For being with us.”

  “I was made to be a hunter.” The sight of his claws was reminder enough of that. Jag was exactly the kind of predator I liked to chase. “Unless you’re volunteering to be my next prey.”

  Jag’s lips spread warm and slow, his over-pointed canines peeking out. “You can hunt me anytime.”

  The pit of my stomach clenched. How his lithe black form would stand out against the snow and ice. He’d be large in jaguar form—his massive human size was proof enough of that—but he’d move with the same deadly grace in either shape.

  A worthy target.

  My fingers trembled, anticipating the draw of a spear.

  Great Goddess, I wanted to hunt him. But not to spear him. Then what, when the hunt was done?

  A vision sprang unbidden—his body, glorious against a backdrop of white. Not snow, but feathered down.

  Tank cleared his throat. “Can we tone down the show?”

  I didn’t blush because I couldn’t, but a drop of water slid down my earlobe. I re-froze the ice diamond with a touch, but the droplet fell, slipping down the curve of my breast.

  Jag’s gaze tracked the drop’s descent and his yellow eyes were as hot as rainforest heat. I ached to respond to that challenge, but whether as a warrior or a woman, neither could be allowed.

  He burned so hot the first touch would liquefy everything I’d built.

  Knowing
that should’ve made it easier to stay away.

  “Jag.” Tank clapped his hands to his temples. “Keep it PG.”

  “Sorry, Boss.” Jag’s gaze never left mine.

  I could’ve sworn he purred.

  Five

  JAG

  Ivory broke away from my gaze first. Maybe she could read what I was thinking.

  The dress hugged her curves like a skin. I wanted it off her, and that body spread in front of me in nothing but ice diamonds.

  And maybe the heels.

  Legs that long shouldn’t be street legal.

  Not that I don’t appreciate the view. Tank’s voice cut through my fantasies. But you really want to be sharing this with me? Between the two of you I’m going to pop a hemorrhage.

  What’s she thinking? Ivory was whispering something to Angel, but I couldn’t listen in and still follow Tank. The mental pictures trumped the whispers.

  No chance. I might have to see, but I don’t share. Tank turned away. Just don’t jump each other until after the party.

  No promises.

  Damn. Was I really getting to her?

  I’d wanted her from moment one, but it had been a long time since a woman had captivated me like this. Or at all.

  I ran my tongue across my teeth. The canines were too sharp for a human, though the days I had to hide were long gone.

  With Ivory around, my beast wanted out.

  Judging from the other guys’ faces, I wasn’t the only one feeling the call.

  Tank and Ruin were in their own world talking tactics, but everyone else was either staring or stealing glances at the ladies. Angel looked hot, but apparently enough of us preferred our women cold.

  Cyclone could stare all he wanted. He’d blown his chance and gotten iced. Thunder would charm her, and that was irritating, but he didn’t swing that way, so no threat from his corner.

  Jet and Steel both stared openly. Jet might be too proud to make a move, but Steel wasn’t shy. By the shitty grin on his face, he was going to try something.

  Nihil stole some glances but wouldn’t do more than that. He could turn anything he touched into a pile of dust, including me, if he were so inclined. Didn’t mean he wasn’t interested, but he kept away from the ladies as a public service.

  The Hummer eased to a stop in front of a glitzed-out Midtown hotel. Camera flashes spilled from the army of press held back by a flimsy velvet rope. Already they shoved, jockeying for better shots of the car and its blackened windows. Not to mention the throngs of uninvited fans waving M-10 banners.

  When they actually glimpsed Ivory, they’d go apeshit.

  “This is larger than I was led to believe.” Ivory fixed her glacial glare on Tank.

  Angel bit her lower lip as she flipped through her phone. “I think we underestimated the interest there’d be in a new female hero.”

  “It doesn’t matter how many people are here.” Tank moved for the door. “One of us will be with you at all times.” Any volunteers? His mental voice spoke only to me.

  “Dibs.”

  Ivory scowled at my corner of the Hummer.

  “Good.” Tank’s hand rested on the door handle, but he fixed each one of us with a glare. “Happy faces. Let’s give enough of a show that they’re satisfied, but not so much of one that we’re making our next public apology tomorrow.”

  The crew nodded and mumbled their agreement. I was down, but Ivory was all coiled tension. She was way too tightly corked, and one pushy reporter might be enough to pop her top.

  And that, I wanted to watch.

  “Let’s roll.” Tank stepped out to a booming chorus of cheers.

  He offered his arm to Ivory, who sat closest to the door. When she stepped onto the red carpet, the crowd exploded and a growl slipped through my teeth.

  Ivory was mine.

  Tank knew it.

  And you’re fucking baiting me, aren’t you?

  He heard me, but he didn’t respond.

  So much for dibs. It had to be another one of his tests. Or punishment for blowing the mission and getting Ivory sucked into our shit. Or maybe because Tank wanted to prove exactly how territorial I was getting.

  Fine.

  Fur rippled along my hands as my claws extended. It wasn’t by my will, but I wanted it. If I had to mark my territory, I could play that game.

  The rest of the guys filtered out of the car. Thunder and Angel shot me simultaneous looks of disapproval as they stepped out.

  “Don’t make a scene.” Angel patted my shoulder. “You’ll scare her away.” She took Thunder’s arm and moved down the carpet, where everyone was assembling for a group shot.

  Alone in the car, I stared at the pack of them as my muscles twitched and my body prepared for the change. There was a sweetness to the ache. It had been a while since my last shift, and Ivory was pushing me over the edge.

  But Angel was right.

  Bad behavior wouldn’t win over the ice princess.

  Ass out here. Now. Tank’s smile didn’t falter in front of the cameras, but he wasn’t going to wait patiently for much longer.

  I maneuvered my claws to straighten my lapels without shredding the suit. Deep breath, and I threw myself to the firing squad.

  IVORY

  Camera flashes destroyed my vision. Tank steadied me, and though I hated to admit it, I needed the assistance. Everything in front of my eyes merged into dots of blurred light.

  I’d thought the worst was over, but Jag finally slunk over to complete the group. He looped an arm around my shoulder as he wedged in between Thunder and me in the back row of the photo line-up.

  The cheers ratcheted up a decibel and flashes hit my retinas like one hell of a meteor shower. I didn’t even pretend to smile. It took all I had not to sprint for the car.

  This was much too much exposure.

  Too much attention

  Too much…everything.

  A physical threat would’ve been nothing. I’d fight anything that attacked and be glad for the chance to swing my spear. But the press?

  Impale a reporter and I’d be in prison with no more of the M-10’s immunity. Even they had to placate the media. It was why I’d agreed to this, but now that I’d seen the level of intensity...there was no way I could sneak home without a pack of paparazzi on my tail. I couldn’t afford to have my face advertised like this.

  Jag clasped my arm, sparking another wave of flashes. “Relax. I’ll be your bodyguard for the evening.”

  “How reassuring.” I barely moved my lips, speaking through gritted teeth.

  His arm around my shoulder wasn’t reassuring at all. I’d been trying to ignore his body heat, but the more he spoke, the harder that became. Even through his suit sleeve, I felt his tight muscles. Where his palm touched my shoulder...

  Goose bumps.

  I could run the tundra barefoot. I did not get goose bumps. Never had.

  His flesh against mine and I was undone. So much temptation to tear into him any way I could.

  A purring noise vibrated from Jag’s throat, and I couldn’t help but respond to the sound with a shiver. His lengthened canines jutted past his smile. Clearly enjoying himself.

  My palms itched. I either had to launch a spear or wrap my legs around him and have at it. Both of those were equally damning, and before I snapped, I shot a thought at Tank. Are we done here?

  “Let’s head inside.” Tank’s reply was made aloud to all. It was too soon to relax, but at least I’d past the first hurdle without too much damage.

  A hotel representative led us through the lobby and into a conference space. Sandwiched between Tank and Jag, I was close to suffocating.

  Folding chairs crowded the floor and they started to fill as soon as we passed the door. Tank steered us for a dais where the raised table laden with microphones would put us in full view of all assembled.

  Food smells wafted from close by, and behind the growing buzz of conversation, I could make out the clank of pans in the kitchen. That would be for th
e party, and I prayed this little press conference didn’t last long.

  Deep breaths. I could stay calm enough to make it to the canapés.

  Tank and I ascended the steps as the rest of the group was ushered into another room. Apparently it was my moment to shine.

  Just glorious.

  Of course Jag refused to be pulled away with the others. He grabbed a folding chair and tromped up the steps after us, placing himself on the other side of Tank.

  Tank glared Jag’s way and probably gave a matching mental warning, but he didn’t share the words with me.

  The cat man grinned, with more malice than his usual humor. “I called dibs.”

  Tension hummed between them.

  I wanted a new seat.

  Preferably one in the parking garage.

  The reporters weren’t quite settled, but the ones who were lifted their voices, wanting to get started. Tank raised a hand, cutting the first wave of questions. “I’d like to keep this brief. Ivory’s involved in an ongoing investigation and we can’t reveal the details at this time. Suffice it to say we’re happy to have her on our side.” A few people chuckled. “We’ll take a few formal questions before the social.”

  The reporters jumped from their seats. Loudest was a woman in the first row. “Jag. What’s your relationship with Ivory?”

  He leaned forward, giving everyone a front-row view of his elongated incisors. “We’re partners.”

  He injected the word words with so much heat that everyone in the room would have vivid ideas on what kind of “partnership” we’d formed.

  My blood pounded as the cameras flashed. He wanted me to kill him.

  That was the only reason he’d bait me like this.

  “Do you have a statement, Ivory?” A TV anchor made his voice heard.

  Just say you’re happy to be here, Tank coached. And don’t mention any plans to leave us.

  As if I needed that repeated. Wasn’t that the point of this farce?

  “I’m happy to be here.” Far be it from me to go off-book. “And I hope the investigation is concluded shortly.”

  There must have been some pecking order among the press because the next questions shot off without argument. “How do you like working with the Manhattan Ten?”