by Lynn Hagen
Drake watched as Panahasi rubbed his chest, looking a bit uneasy.
“What’s wrong?”
Panahasi shook his head, looking at Casey and Drake with such haunted eyes that it was beginning to frighten Drake.
“Have you ever had déjà vu?”
“Yeah,” Maverick said as he walked over to the pool table, a concerned look in his grey eyes. “This morning when I got dressed. I could have sworn I didthat same thing yesterday morning.”
Drake scowled at Maverick and then looked back at Panahasi. “Sometimes.”
“It just hit me hard right now when I agreed to your terms.” Panahasi shook his head, and then the tension in his features eased. “Let’s play. House rules, no calling shots except the eight ball.”
Casey looked at Drake with a worried expression, but Drake just shrugged. If Panahasi wasn’t willing to share what was wrong with him, Drake couldn’t force the man.
Besides, if he won, Panahasi would tell him.
“Deal.” Not calling shots just made the game a little easier.
But the impact of the bet sunk in. Never in his life had a game of pool meant more to Drake than it did right now. His palms were sweaty and his nerves were on edge. The stakes were high, and if he lost, his life would be miserable as hell.
It wasn’t that he minded listening to Panahasi. That wasn’t the problem. Drake was big on freedom. He knew the man would order him and Casey to stay in the penthouse on lockdown. If they were to have any fun, Drake had to win.
Panahasi wore the same determined look as Drake did. Neither took the stakes lightly. He was pretty sure Panahasi didn’t want his life to become an open book for Drake, but Drake was tired of not really knowing his mate. He had a ton of questions, and Panahasi wasn’t forthcoming in answers.
After winning the shot of who would go first, Drake studied the table. He knew this game was going to be long and brutal. He took the gloves off and was fighting for not only his and Casey’s freedom, but knowledge.
He performed a power break, watching as the pool balls scattered across the table. Three striped balls slid into various pockets.
“I guess I’m lows,” Panahasi said.
“That you are,” Drake said, taking another shot and missing. Damn.
Panahasi chuckled as he walked around the table, studying the layout, and then took his shot, knocking two solid balls into separate pockets off of one strike.
Drake groaned when he realized that Panahasi was no amateur. It seemed the hustler had just been hustled. It was yet another thing he had learned about his mate.
Panahasi knew how to shoot pool.
Damn.
“Don’t you dare lose,” Casey said in a low growl.
“No pressure?” Drake answered as he quirked his brow.
“Sorry,” Casey said as he backed away, taking up a position by the wall, but watching the game intently. The guy looked just as nervous as Drake felt. That wasn’t helping.
“Don’t worry,” Panahasi said as he brushed his lips close to Drake’s ear. “Some of the things I plan on demanding are quite pleasurable for all three of us.” He winked and then backed away.
The man was trying to rattle Drake.
And damn if it wasn’t working. Drake was so hard he knew everyone in the place could see his erection straining against the front of his pants.
Panahasi took his next shot and missed.
Drake closed his eyes, swatting away the images of how good Panahasi looked naked, and then slowly raised his eyelids, staring at the balls. He found his center, expelled a long breath, and then let the stick fly.
“Yes!” Casey said as he pumped his arm.
Drake had successfully knocked two balls in. Thankfully they belonged to him, not Panahasi. The man was wrecking his concentration, throwing his game off.
“Luck,” Panahasi teased.
Drake ignored his mate as he took his next shot, but didn’t sink anything. The man was rattling Drake worse than he feared. If he didn’t get his head back into the game, he would lose. And Drake sucked at losing. He wasn’t a good sport about it.
Drake walked behind the tall leader, running his hand over Panahasi’s ass. Panahasi’s head tilted down and a slow, sensual moan left his lips.
He high-fived Casey and then leaned against the wall, not unaffected by Panahasi’s flushed face or the sexual promise in his dark eyes. The man was going to pay himback for that one…when they were alone.
“You gonna take all night?” Drake was proud of the fact that he kept the lust and tension out of his voice. It wouldn’t do to get hot and horny in front of all these strangers. He had already sported a boner once, and he fought not to let the next one show. One was threatening to come out, just on the edges, but Drake breathed out slowly, keeping it at bay.
“Cheater,” Panahasi growled in playfulness, sparks of lust shooting across his eyes. He wasn’t trying to hide a damn thing. Drake had no doubt in his mind that he was in the presence of a predator when Panahasi’s eyes locked onto his. Damn if he didn’t want to be the prey.
“Like you didn’t do the same thing.”
The side of Panahasi’s mouth curled up into an alluring smile before he turned back to the table. Drake needed a cold shower right about now. “If that’s how you want to play.” He took his shot, and Drake gaped at the table.
“Are you sure you aren’t using any funny magic?”
“Nope,” Panahasi said as he straightened, his hair brushing his shoulders, and Drake’s fingers itched to grab fistfuls of the silky dark strands. The man’s pure lean muscles and tensile strength were calling to Drake’s beast. His wolf was damn near whimpering to grab the man and run back to the penthouse for hours of sexual pleasure. “I don’t cheat. It makes winning less victorious. Rattling is different, but I play a fair game.”
The man was good. Real good. He made an impossible shot. This only made Drake even more nervous. He had met his match. There was no denying it.
He chalked the tip of his stick, dried the palms of his hands, and walked around the table a few times. He had two balls on the table, and Panahasi had four. Even though he sunk more balls, that didn’t bring him any comfort.
“I’m getting old,” Panahasi needled.
“You are old,” Drake retorted. “But as soon as I win, I’ll know exactly how old.”
A small crowd began to form around the table. Maverick and Cecil were leaning against the wall with Casey. Cecil was shaking his head at Drake. “I think you should have found out how well he played before you bet him.”
No shit.
Drake rolled his eyes when Panahasi lined the stick up behind his back. The man was showing off. Drake hung his head when Panahasi sank two more balls. He was going to lose. He could see it now.
Panahasi was the ultimate hustler.
He almost shouted in joy when Panahasi missed his next shot. It seemed like a pattern between the two, but Drake was damn glad it was his turn.
The music in the small shack had stopped, no one going to the jukebox. Everyone was gathered around them, and Drake could see bets being placed. Too bad he couldn’t get in on that. He could use some pocket money. Wearing the same clothes daily was getting old.
Wiping his forehead on his sleeve, Drake lined up his stick and took his shot, his heart hammering as a wide grin broke out on his face. He had sunk his last two balls. The only one left for him was the eight ball. Maybe he would win after all.
“Eight ball, corner pocket,” Drake said as he tapped the corner he was referring to. He felt a mite better when he saw the nervous look on Panahasi’s face. Drake wasn’t an amateur either.
He made his shot and cursed when the ball missed.
The raw determination was set in Panahasi’s eyes as he made his shot, sunk a ball, and then took another shot. Drake watched as Panahasi’s last ball disappeared. Now the only ball left on the green felt was the eight ball.
Somehow he had a feeling that Panahasi had taken it easy on
him.
“Eight ball,side pocket.” Panahasi tapped the pocket on the left side of the table. He took his shot, and the ball careened across the table, heading straight for the hole. Drake held his breath. The room grew quiet.
Drake damn near crumbled to the floor when the ball hit the edge of the hole and spun away. Panahasi didn’t make his shot.
Thank fuck!
Drake was tired of messing around. He was about to end this game. He wasn’t going to lose, and he was going to find out everything about his new mate. “Eight ball, corner pocket,” he called, tapped his stick on the intended pocket, and made his shot.
Drake sank the ball!
He jumped around, screaming out his victory as Casey hugged him. Never before had he been so damn relieved to win a game. He racked his stick, walking over to the loser. “Good game.”
“Indeed it was,” Panahasi said. He didn’t look worried or pissed. His eyes were sparkling as he smiled. Drake knew he would question Panahasi, but from the way his mate was staring at him like he trusted Drake with his life, Drake knew he wasn’t going to pry too deeply.
Damn it. Since when did he grow a conscience?
He held his breath as Panahasi walked over to him and bent close, kissing his ear tenderly before he whispered, “I’m one of the first creatures to ever be created. So now you know how old I am.”
Panahasi leaned back, winked at Drake, and then sauntered over to Casey, tossing his arm over the shifter’s shoulder as they walked over to the stage and listened to the band play.
Drake just stood there, watching the two, digesting what Panahasi just told him. He glanced around, noticing that the crowd had broken up and everyone seemed to be having a good time.
Lowering his head, Drake let out a long breath. He had a feeling he had just bitten off more than he could chew, even though he had won the game.
Chapter Ten
Kobe groaned as he turned over, barely able to see. He didn ’t understand what was going on, or why he was back here in Remtin, but he had figured one thing out.
He didn ’t have his demon warrior powers.
And that had caused him to get the beat down of his life. If the pain in his side was any indication to go by, he had a few broken ribs. Kobe spit the blood from his mouth as he agonizingly pushed to his feet.
As much as his body demanded that he lie back down, Kobe knew he had to find someplace to hide until he could get this all figured out.
With a dead phone, no powers, and a horde of angry soul-sucking demons after him, staying stationary was not in his best interest. But one thing did puzzle him. The demons had him down, were kicking the shit out of him, calling him every name under the sun, but they hadn’t taken his soul.
But as bewildered as he was, Kobe was not going to hunt them down to ask them why. He was just grateful as hell. He clamped down on the pain and ground his teeth as he walked to the closest abandoned building and painfully made his way inside.
Gods, he was so screwed.
Kobe had to make it to the other side of the city to get out, but the problem was, every time he came out of hiding, he was attacked. It made for one long-ass journey. Fighting his way to the other end of the city was not something he could survive, not when his powers were MIA.
Kobe pulled his shirt off, using it to wrap around the wound bleeding on his arm. He made the tourniquet out of the fabric and pulled it tight. This must be what humans go through. Kobe had a new respect for them. His entire body felt like roadkill as he sat on the dirty deserted floor, glancing around and wondering how he was going to get out of this mess.
He had to fight his way through life before Panahasi had come to take him away for his training. It was a brutal, harsh, and bloody life he had once had, and Kobe wasn’t one to revisit his old neighborhood.
Once was enough.
More than a few times he had tried to call another demon warrior, shouting their names as he was getting the shit kicked out of him. But no one had come. It was as if an invisible wall was around Remtin, blocking him from Serenity City and the demon warriors. Kobe didn’t understand what was going on. Was he doomed to live out the rest of his life in this shithole with no powers to protect him?
It wasn’t something he even wanted to contemplate. Not when his upbringing wasn’t that far behind him. It wasn’t too long ago that he had left this place. Coming back so soon only opened wounds better left closed.
Kobe slid down the wall a little further, feeling his body go numb. He was cold, and he had lost a lot of blood. This was one place he didn’t want to die. He had always thought he would die in battle, not in some grungy warehouse, broken and bloody.
What a waste.
Hearing a noise to his right, Kobe turned his head. If those bastards were back to finish him off, he would…bleed all over them. He was in no shape to fight. His right arm was bleeding and useless, and his ribs were making it very difficult to breathe.
He spotted a young man hiding in one of the shadowed corners, staring at Kobe with big, blue, frightened eyes. It seemed he wasn’t the only one trying to stay out of the bullies’ way. He lifted his good arm, waving for the young man to come closer.
The man shook his head, pushing further back into the shadows.
“I won’t hurt you. Come closer.” Kobe knew he had an extremely deep voice. There was nothing he could do about that. He just hoped it wasn’t frightening to the man.
“How do I know that?” the man asked.
“Because I am a demon warrior, sworn to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”
The man looked skeptical. “Demon warriors don’t bleed like you do. I saw what they did to you out there. No demon warrior would allow such a thing.”
Kobe was too damn tired to explain anything to the scared young man. He had neither the strength nor the will to convince the guy he was no threat. Closing his eyes, Kobe let out a deep breath, but winced when his ribs shot a pain of protest through his body.
If he ever got his powers back, he was going to hunt those demons down and show them what it was like to be beat by a gang. Only it would be Kobe alone who taught them that lesson.
“What’s wrongwith you?”
Kobe scoffed as he looked over at the man. “I broke a damn toenail.”
The man narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to be a smart-ass. I saw what they did. I just don’t know what damage you sustained.”
“Broken ribs. Cut arm. And too many damn bruises to count,” he replied. “Now let me sleep.”
The guy moved a bit closer. “You don’t want to sleep here. They use this place to torture people. If those demons find you here, they’ll finish what they started.”
Great. He had to pick the one place to hide where Charlie Brown and his Peanuts gang used to beat people. It was always his luck. Gritting out a shout of pain, Kobe rose to his feet. He was sweating profusely and swaying slightly from the pain and loss of blood, but he managed to stay upright.
“I can help you.”
“I thought you didn’t trust me.”
“I don’t. But I like those demons even less,” the man said as he pushed from his hiding spot. “And besides, you’re hurt. If you try anything, I’ll punch you in your ribs.”
Kobe was glad to have such wonderful help. He couldn’t rightly blame the guy, but if the man hit him in his broken ribs, Kobe was going to…fall down and cry like a fucking baby.
Damn, having no powers sucked. He couldn’t even beat the skinny guy’s ass if he wanted to. Never would he breathe a word about this to anyone. He did have his pride, after all.
Doing something that went against everything Kobe believed in, he trusted the man. “Then come help me.”
The guy hurried across the warehouse, taking Kobe’s uninjured arm and swinging it around his shoulder. They made slow and painful progress to the door. By the time they reached the entrance, Kobe was ready to sit back down.
“We need to keep moving.”
“Tell that to
my broken ribs and bruised body,” Kobe snapped.
“They’ll be here soon.”
Kobe glanced down at the dirty and tattered young man. “How do you know so much about their schedule?”
The man looked away, but not before Kobe saw the shame in the man’s eyes. “We need to get moving.”
Kobe left the subject alone. He had his own scars to bear. He didn’t have time to psychoanalyze anyone else. It wasn’t like he would be forthcoming with his own background, so why pry into someone else’s?
As fucked up as he was, Kobe made sure he was the first to walk out the door. The guy helping him didn’t look like he could beat a dead dog in a fight. He was surprised the man was carrying Kobe’s weight as he helped him along.
They made it out of the warehouse and down the street before Kobe couldn’t take another step. He could barely breathe, and his body was giving up. “I need to rest.”
“Then rest in here.”
Kobe followed the guy into a run-down apartment building. Thankfully the man was only going as far as the first floor. Steps were not Kobe’s friend right now.
“I live here. I can hide you inside.”
Normally, Kobe wouldn’t go inside an apartment with a stranger, not when he had demons after him. But he had no choice. It was either trust this stranger, or trust his luck on the streets. And so far, his luck wasn’t doing him much good.
The guy helped him inside and then over to a small couch. Kobe grunted out his pain, but managed to sit down.
And then he managed to successfully pass out.
* * * * Casey watched Panahasi glance at his cell phone. It was the second time he had done it in twenty minutes. “Is there something wrong?” he asked as he took a seat on the sofa, curling next to his warrior mate.
Panahasi shook his head as he sat his cell phone on the coffee table. “I’ve tried to call Kobe twice. He’s not answering.”
“I take it that’s unusual.”
“It is.” Panahasi glanced at his cell phone again.
“Do they always patrol Serenity City?” Casey asked.
Panahasi looked as if he was thrown off by the question. “No.”
“Then they do have a personal life. Right?”