Nate heaved a sigh. “She’s crazy Marcus. Not just power mad or blood thirsty, she’s out and out Queen of the Crazy. Her logic, it’s not our logic. I’ve looked into Destiny’s shrivelled soul and we can’t second guess what’s going on in her head. Can’t plan ahead or understand what emotions drive her, what she loves or what she loathes, because it all changes in a flash. She’s vicious, driven, cruel, self-absorbed and nuttier than a snickers bar. The one thing… the only thing we know that interests her, that might be used against her at this moment in time, is me. And I’m all for acting as bait… don’t get me wrong. And I understand why here… I need a threshold to call my own, some place her vampire ass can’t access. And the isolation of the house works. I might even have a chance of seeing her coming. But what I won’t do is risk any more innocents in this fight. All her henchmen might be dead but we don’t know that she hasn’t collected fresh ones to do her bidding since our last encounter. Or, you saw the lair, they had surveillance equipment there. I don’t want anyone seeing me helping a little old lady across the street or buying a girl a drink in a bar, and it coming back to haunt me.”
“Vivian wasn’t your fault. Like you said… you can’t second guess crazy. What I don’t like is that you’re basically going up against her by yourself Buddy.”
“Between chasing down leads on Sek and Mot, trying to identify any long lost relative of Apep in order to protect them and our normal case load of magical bad guys gone off the rails… we only have so much manpower. How is the search going regarding Apep’s descendants?”
Marcus shook his head curtly. “Annoying. Xander was an only child and orphaned in his late teens, so no leads there. His father however, did have a brother.”
“Children?”
“No, married for forty-four years, now deceased. But I think there’s something there. The marriage was a rocky one, lots of long breaks.” Marcus drummed his fingers on the table in a steady rhythm.
“You’re hoping he had other women?”
“Hoping is perhaps the wrong word, but I need to dig deeper. If there is a possibility of a long lost relative out there, we have to get to them before Sek and Mot do. I think I might have a lead regarding the blood.”
“The Blood?” Nate frowned.
“Xander’s blood. It’s been bugging me why the gruesome twosome wanted all of Xander’s blood. Why drain him dry? They had trained assassins on the job, if all they needed was enough of his blood to wake Chaos God Daddy, why not be sneaky about it, steal a small quantity, inject Xander with an air bubble and make a discreet exit? Who knows if we would have ever worked out there was any blood missing or that Xander didn’t die of natural causes.”
Nate nodded. “And?”
“I’ve been doing some deep background checks on Xander and I came up with something interesting. Since he was about nineteen, Xander was having blood drawn every second week and sending it off to a clinic… in Texas, for testing.”
Nate’s attention was captured. “Texas. Where those two assholes have been known to hang out masquerading as Sheriff Deputies? Hey, didn’t Xander say something about meeting his long lost relatives just after he left school? That would have made him eighteen… nineteen.”
“Exactly.” Marcus nodded.
“And? You wouldn’t have just left it there.”
“Of course not.” Everyone knew Marcus never left a puzzle unsolved. “The mailing address to the so-called clinic in Texas was a P.O.Box. I slipped one of the mailroom guys some money and he told me that nothing has been delivered to that numbered box for about seven months now.”
“Makes sense. Xander went gah-gah six months ago and now he’s dead. Anything else pop?”
“Maybe, the guy had no idea who owns the P.O.Box but he remembered the packages arriving every two weeks, labelled with an Atlanta address.”
“Xander’s blood.” Nate assumed.
“Yeah. But more interesting than that… my source recalled that there used to be a second lot of packages arriving on the same two week delivery schedule.”
The hairs on the back of Nate’s neck stood up. “And?”
Marcus’s electric blue eyes filled with frustration. “Mail dude said the other packages stopped arriving over a year ago.”
“Damn.” Nate hissed the word. “So it’s a dead end?”
“Not quite. Dude thought he recalled a Vermont return address on the second lot of packages.”
“Vermont?” Nate frowned. “Who the hell is in Vermont?”
Marcus shrugged but couldn’t wipe the devilish smile off his face; he did love an intriguing puzzle. The more complex the greater satisfaction he received in solving it. “Hell if I know. But it gives me a place to start looking for some answers.” Marcus drained the last of his coffee and rose. “Speaking of which, I need to get back. I have some updates due in soon. I don’t want to jinx anything but I think we may have just found the beginning of the trail that will lead us to the last remaining living descendant of the God of Chaos.”
After Marcus left, Nate unpacked the supplies he’d bought, grabbed a quick shower in the only bathroom that actually still had running water and then headed outside for a day of back breaking physical labour that he was hoping like hell would keep his mind from dwelling on the lunatic vamp Queen or straying to an all too tempting, but exceedingly off limits, yellow bikini wearing artist.
Chapter Six
Goddess damn it, Charisse couldn’t believe she’d just ruined another canvas. It had been like this for the last four days… ever since Nate had showed up so unexpectedly on her rock. Sighing in exasperation, she placed a fresh canvas on the easel and took a deep calming breath and then another one.
It was a beautiful blue sky day, soft fluffy baby clouds were sprinkled across the skyline, the sea relatively calm. Hard to believe there was only a week or two left of Summer. Not that fall or winter were particularly harsh here in Queensland, but certainly the nights would get chilly and there would be fewer daylight hours to paint by. Worse comes to worse, she could paint inside the cabin next to the small wood fire heater she’d had installed. It was quite a cosy set up with its small kitchen and there was even a bed in case she got caught out on Bettina by bad weather.
Blinking, Charisse looked down at the canvas, damn, not ruined, but not exactly what she’d intended to paint either. Giving up, she turned and repositioned the easel, if she was going to paint Kaleidoscope Cove beach and the gothic monstrosity on top of it, then she might as well just give in to the impulse, otherwise she’d get nothing achieved today whatsoever.
Under her breath she hummed a medley of 70’s TV shows, starting with the Brady Bunch, leading into I Dream of Jeannie, The Partridge Family and Welcome Back Kotter. By late afternoon, with the sun well overhead and scorching down she was more than ready to take a break. Storing her brushes, she arched her back and finally took a good long look at what she’d spent the day working on. Hmmm, that was new… and kind of strange. Her work was normally grounded in the here and now, but what she’d painted today… it was part fantasy, and all wishful thinking.
Kaleidoscope Folly was no longer a run-down scary mess, in her painting it was a stately beautiful home with a large veranda encompassing the ground floor. The roof was now red and shingled, gleaming bright above the fresh coat of white paint that decorated the place along with new wrought ironwork that gilded the edges without over doing it. In her interpretation, the turrets at either end of the house each had a flag flying on their highest point and big new wide windows on every floor.
She’d painted in an extensive garden with an entertainment area and a large expanse of green grass leading to the cliff’s edge, replacing the current crop of scrubby bushes, crabgrass and weeds. Except for what she’d done to the house and the grounds that was all she’d changed… no hold it, there on the private beach, she’d added a red and white striped beach shack. Wow, who knew she could be so fanciful. Well, she supposed after spending fifteen years looking at the pro
perty she had some definite ideas of what its potential could be.
“Hey there Cyd.”
She gasped, spinning to discover Nate standing behind her, dripping wet. Wearing cut off dark grey shorts and work boots. Seriously, did the man not own a t-shirt? And what was up with him always swimming in his boots? “Nate, you scared me… what are you doing here?” Goddess, how much paint had she accidently smeared across her face? And damn, she was wearing her oldest and ugliest muumuu, why hadn’t she thrown it away already.
“I was bored and needed a break… decided to take a swim and I heard something.”
“You heard something?” Oh Goddess, had she accidently lured him to the rock? Except Bettina was being awfully quiet today; watchful, bordering on sly and secretive, she-rock wasn’t even yanking on the bond as she’d done on Nate’s previous visit. What was the sneaky bitch up to?
And once more Nate was holding an actual conversation with her without drooling, fawning over her, or even showing the slightest bit of interest in her for that matter. Although who could blame the man. Along with the hideous muumuu she was wearing an exceedingly sensible but rather unflattering sunhat, dark sunglasses and as always, zinc cream, was smeared across her nose, protecting her from sun damage and developing freckles.
Nate was looking around the rock as if searching for something. “It was kind of a droning… or a humming. A weird combination of the two. You don’t have one of those wind farms nearby do you? I’ve read they can affect some people’s hearing strangely.”
Charisse fought hard not to stamp her foot, the man was infuriating, yet again insulting her, even if he didn’t know it. “There are no wind farms nearby. Maybe you should get Nell to check you over if you’re hearing strange things.” Or perhaps he should get some sleep she was tempted to say. The man looked tired. And who wouldn’t be, he seemed to be up at dawn, worked all day outside and as soon as the sun set he worked inside the house. Not that she was stalking him or anything, just catching the occasional glimpse of him… every ten minutes or so, when she found herself looking up at the Folly. “I was about to grab a drink… do you want one?” Her words weren’t exactly gracious but suddenly she was feeling kind of parched.
“Hey, is that my place? Wow.”
Nate walked up next to her, careful to stay out of touching distance. His fingers itched to brush that glossy pony-tail back over her shoulder and ease her out of that orange blanket thing she was wearing. The colour was dreadful but he kind of liked that it was so worn it was all but transparent in places, was that a mole or a birthmark on her waist? Hmm she was wearing sandals today, nice feet… cute toes.
By the Sands, he needed to pull himself together, why had he given in to the impulse to swim out here today? Because he was a fool, he scolded himself. Maat, this woman had some strange pull over him, from head to toe, inside and out, she fascinated him.
Even though he’d sworn he wouldn’t get involved, he was now beyond intrigued to work out the mystery behind her all but encased soul. Especially after his last physical contact with her when the damn thing had zapped him with static electricity, or was that Charisse protecting herself subconsciously? Just what was the woman’s magic? Hmm, mysteries on top of mysteries… and he’d been worried he’d be bored out here in the sticks.
“I was just playing around.” Charisse was already walking away towards the cabin. Grabbing two drinks from the cooler she turned, swallowing a gasp of surprise to find Nate had followed her, standing only inches away. “Will you stop sneaking up on me? Sit… there.” She pointed to the nearest chair under the cabin’s make-shift veranda, setting his drink down carefully on the nearby low table so she would be in no danger of touching him.
“I like your interpretation of the house.” Nate sighed as he relaxed back into the canvas chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “It’s very similar to what I have in mind actually, though what I’m aiming for is a little less… fussy.”
“You can say girlie, I won’t be offended.”
Nate just smiled, taking a sip of his soda, it really was peaceful out here, especially now that the annoying droning had quit. “Why paint way out here in the middle of nowhere? It must be a hassle to get your supplies over and the completed paintings to shore?”
Charisse shrugged, tugging off her oversized white sunhat, adjusting her pony-tail. “Maybe I’m just one of those eccentric artistic types.”
“No.” Nate shook his head, refusing to accept that explanation.
“Quirky and temperamental then?” Charisse offered.
“Definitely not quirky and not so much temperamental as… high maintenance, I think.”
Charisse spluttered out some soda that had gone down the wrong way. “I am not high maintenance.”
“Tell me you don’t love getting your own way?”
“Who doesn’t?” Insisted Charisse; pulling off her sunglasses so he could get the full effect of her haughty glare.
Nate met her glare and offered her an easy smile. “You expect every man you meet to fall at your feet and worship you.”
“Actually, I often pray for the exact opposite reaction.”
“Oh, I can see it bores you silly, that’s why you’ve set up the challenge.”
“The challenge?” Charisse enquired, bemused.
“What else would you call those hideous blankets and hats you insist upon wearing?”
“Well I consider them sun smart for a start. Everyone knows how damaging the sun’s rays can be. How can you possibly interpret what I choose to wear out here as a challenge? A challenge to whom exactly?” She looked around at the surrounding empty seas.
“To the simple yet highly predictable male of the species. So far, when it comes to the men in your life, I’m betting you hold all the cards, call all the plays, make all the decisions. So you’ve instigated this test…” He waved a hand in her general direction. “Waiting for some guy to come along with half a clue, see straight through all your props and challenge you right back.”
“Challenge me back?” Charisse shook her head. “You know nothing about me.”
“I bet you’ve never had a long term relationship. In fact just to prove my point, if you can name one man… just one, that you’ve had a long term relationship with… I’ll decorate the Folly to the specifications of your painting.”
“Define long term?” She asked warily.
Nate cocked his head, that teasing twinkle in his eyes sparking like solar flares off the sun. “I won’t even set the bar too high… let’s say, more than three weeks.”
“Um… er.” Charisse was racking her brain, there had to be someone she’d dated for longer than three weeks. Suddenly she snapped her fingers. “Damian West!”
“How old were you when you went out together?”
“What does that have to do anything?” Charisse fisted her hand into the voluminous material of her dress.
“Humour me.” Nate insisted.
“I was nine and he was ten.” Charisse muttered under her breath.
“It doesn’t count if the relationship occurred before you turned sixteen.”
“Damn you.” Charisse accused, shaking her head, her mind a complete mental blank, not one name leaping out at her. “It doesn’t prove anything. I have a very demanding… career. It’s hard finding someone who understands the time and dedication I require for my painting.” Not to mention the fact that too long in her company men historically had become rather too compliant… vegetative even, always agreeing with her, some forgetting how to swallow. It seemed unfair to expose any man to that risk, besides she’d yet to come across a man who didn’t bore her stupid after a few nights together. Okay, so maybe she did need someone challenging. “Well what about you, Mr expert-on-women… where’s your long term better half?”
“Ah-huh, we were talking about you.”
“Well now we’re discussing you. According to Hadleigh, you’re some kind of world-class super flirt when it comes to the ladies, so where�
��s Ms Perfect?”
“I suppose I’m in the same boat as you, my career has always taken precedence.”
Charisse waved a hand in the air dismissively. “So you’re trying to tell me that Vaughn and Drum’s recent meld marriages are an anomaly?”
“It did take them over a hundred years to find their mates. Not surprisingly really… it requires a special kind of woman to get involved with a Maat warrior.” Nate shifted, relaxing even lower in the chair.
“Do you ever get tired of killing bad guys?”
He frowned for a moment, considering her question. “It’s what I was born… made to do.”
Charisse smiled. “That’s not exactly a no.”
Nate shrugged. “I can’t imagine doing anything else… it’s fulfilling, hard work, weirdly funny at times but ultimately… mostly satisfying.”
Charisse scrunched up her nose. “Mostly satisfying? That’s a strange way to describe it. Is that why you decided to move here and renovate the Folly, to broaden your horizons?”
“You sure ask a lot of questions for a girl whose world view seems kind of narrow to me. Between this rock and your house is what… six miles? How often do you stray further than that?”
“I go out… all the time.” Charisse fumbled for her sunglasses, but they had slipped from her lap to the sand beneath her seat.
“Okay, so let’s extend that radius to… eight, maybe ten miles. Let’s face it, if it wasn’t for your cousins, you’d be practically a hermit.”
“I’m not a recluse, I just like peace and quiet when I paint. And it’s not as if I could ever get lonely out here, people like your good self are always just dropping by to say hello, annoy me with silly questions and guzzle my sodas.”
“Ah Cyd, you need to have your world shaken up on a regular basis, otherwise you’ll become complacent.”
“I have plenty of other visitors besides you to keep me on my toes thank you very much.”
“I suppose you’re talking about the thirty-foot top of the range speedboat that was here yesterday.” Nate raised an eyebrow, a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. “I could see all the gold bling that joker had around his neck from my place. Friend of yours?”
To Seduce A Siren Page 6