by Calinda B
“And you’re a jackass,” I say, frustrated.
“You’ve got to watch him,” Rafe says, appearing out of nowhere behind me.
I jerk in surprise.
“Right now he’s the enemy. You have to know your enemy.”
I turn my head just enough to see his coppery red hair glinting in the sun.
“He’s making this sound like a physical game, when it’s a mental one.” Rafe brings his mouth close to my ear and whispers, “Penetrate his mind, darlin’.” He brushes his fingers across my forehead, feather soft.
I shiver.
Daniel’s jaw grows rigid.
Rafe puts his hands on my arms, positioning them. “Like so.” He places one warm hand on my belly and strokes upward, causing sparks of blue electricity to crackle and zing. “Draw your abundant power up from here. Extend it out the end of your sword. Use it. Use the weapon to gather your energy, turning it into a lightning rod, directing it to kill. Transform it into white-hot steel, darlin’, and plunge it into your opponent.”
His lips are close to my ear, tickling, teasing. His belly, chest, and hips are barely touching me, but I’m so focused on the sensation that I fail to notice Daniel moving toward me, his movements those of a graceful, deadly predator. Before I know it, his sword tip is at my heart…again.
“Dead, dead, dead.” He glares at Rafe. “How does it help when you constantly try to seduce her?”
“Me?” Rafe says, coming to stand beside me. “How I constantly try to seduce her? You can’t keep the word ‘thrust’ out of your vocabulary for more than five minutes at a time. Each time you say it, you project an image of penetrating her with your dick.” He balls his fist by his side, bends his elbows, and rocks his hips forward and back, saying in a sing-song voice, “Thrust harder, Marissa, ooh, baby, like that.”
“I’m out of here,” Daniel says, striding away. “We’re done for the day.”
“Because you said so?” Rafe asks, in hot pursuit.
“Because I said so,” Daniel says in a commanding voice.
And, there they go. Another dog fight. Oh, boy. “I don’t choose either of you!” I yell to the retreating backs of Daniel Navid, Night Numen and my soul bound lover, and Rafe Caldwell, Stealth Numen and deadly lover by my own foolish choosing. “How’s that for a choice?”
“Fine!” I hear them say in unison.
“Suit yourself!” Rafe calls, the sun making his hair look like flames, marching along the trail like a Marine.
“Have a good time!” Daniel snarls backward, tossing his head so that his dark hair whips like strands of glistening onyx. “Alone!” He deftly jumps over a fallen log.
“Hey! Get back here!” Sun shards highlight this fern and that, their bright green fronds lifted high, their unfurled heads poking through the thick canopy of trees. I glance at them before raising my hands, letting the lightning flow through my body, and torch the trees on both sides of them. “Oops.”
“Shit, Marissa, get a grip!” Daniel yells as he swings back in my direction, waving his fist at me. “Mind your temper!” He douses the trees with a sweep of his hand. They immediately extinguish, sparking and letting off tendrils of smoke.
Rafe disappears into the shadows of Warplandia, the Shadow Lands where he often abides, like a weird, warped ghost. It’s like he opens an invisible curtain and—poof!—gone.
“And there he goes. Mr. Leave It to Navid to Clean up the Mess,” Daniel yells.
It looks like I gave the trees a good trim with flaming garden shears. Big mistake. I love the forest. I could, perhaps, restore them to good health if I weren’t in such a bad mood. “You should talk! You’ve been an asshole all day.”
“I’ve been an asshole?” Daniel whirls around and stalks to me. His handsome face is fierce, angry and frustrated. His blue eyes spark with fire.
“Whenever he’s around, yes!” He looks like he’s going to grab me by the shoulders and shake me until my teeth fall out, but he relents, sighs, and drops his aggressive stance. He takes another single step toward me, placing himself just inches away.
“Kiss and make up?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, a touch of mirth peeking through his smile.
“Not yet,” I say, folding my arms over my chest. “You need to behave.”
He laughs. “And who’s going to make me do that? You?”
I glare at him, hoping my gaze scorches him.
He lets his tongue dance along the corner of his mouth in that oh-so-seductive way he has, taking a further step closer.
I trip backward out of his space, stumbling over a rock.
“Are you sure you don’t want to kiss and make up?” He asks, running his tongue over the tips of his front teeth. “Now that he’s out of the way.” His tongue retreats inside his mouth, drawing my attention with it, causing my lips to burn in anticipation. A lazy smile curves along his face, illuminated by one of those friendly sunbeams dancing through the woods. His hand reaches up to stroke his jaw, lined with two days’ worth of whiskers.
Oh, hell, I give up. I sigh, too, leaning in to connect with this confusingly intoxicating man. When our lips touch, I melt, all conflict vanishing.
We’re all feeling a little testy. About to embark on our quest to find the three sisters who forged my sword, The Naked Truth—I know, I know, it’s a cheesy name, but it’s perfect for what it represents—I’ve been training in the art of fighting, cunning, and magic with Daniel and Rafe. A few weeks back we returned to west Seattle where my cozy home rests, leaving the Brazilian coffee plantation I’d inherited in the good care of Carlos, the plantation manager. Daniel returned to his mansion in west Seattle. As for Rafe? I have no idea where he calls home. He simply disappears.
I admit—it’s a little odd having two lovers. I’ve always known myself to be monogamous. I certainly didn’t plan on having two lovers. But a couple of months back, Daniel, who bound our souls without consulting me, vanished. No one knew where he went. I had been checked into a mental hospital by my aunt when someone heard me say I’ve got magical abilities.
My only saving grace was Rafe, and, well…I didn’t mean for it to happen. So now I live in a world of awkwardness, training with these two deadly alpha males every day at my adopted father’s, Tom the Sorcerer, house in Carnation, east of Seattle…for weeks. They squabble and fight, with me in the middle trying to break up their quarrels….and no one is getting as much intimacy as we’d like. My parents never taught me this multiple partner relationship skill before they died in a plane crash, that’s for certain. My sisters didn’t help either. The only one who possibly has a clue is my dear friend Marta, who I’m having lunch with today. It will be the first time we’ve seen one another in nearly two years. She got assigned to a job in China and communication has been sketchy, when it happens at all. Maybe she’ll be able to help.
Daniel releases me from this exhilarating embrace, slings his arm around me, and guides me out of the woods and back to Tom’s house. “Still scared?” He asks.
I snuggle against Daniel’s warm and familiar touch as we walk. “Sometimes. Sometimes I’m more frightened than I’ve ever been. Then, I’ll flip into ‘I’ve got this’ ferocity. I’m riding a crazy rollercoaster of emotion, that’s for sure. I’m on the Mega Bi-Polar Express.” I smile at him, shaking my head at the situation. “More like an out of control wrecking ball ride.”
“Seems natural enough. We’re going to a place none of us would rather go to. We might not come back. We might come back maimed, disfigured, minds blown.”
I shiver and pull him closer until we’re walking like we’re in one of those three-legged races. “You’re not helping,” I say. “Not one bit. You who lives with demons, abiding in places of horror.”
“I don’t exactly live with them, Marissa.” He smirks. “No abiding, either.”
“Are you scared?”
He shrugs. “Nah.”
I study his face as he says this. He’s the most powerful Numina on the planet. He rocks with the darknes
s. He’s inhaled the power of others, deadly and dangerous, when they’ve left this earthly realm. He’s a badass. When I see a small twitch of his eyelid—that’s his tell. That’s the way I know he’s scared, too.
As if in response, he says, “I’m scared of one thing, Marissa. Losing you.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze.
We walk in silence toward Tom’s modest house standing at the edge of the acres of land he owns.
I look behind me. “Shouldn’t we wait for Rafe?” I say.
Daniel scoffs. “Rafe’s a big boy. He’ll manage.” His face grows hard, same as it always does when Rafe is mentioned. “I hate this,” he says.
“I know you do,” I say for the thousandth time.
“I adore you, Marissa,” he says, turning to face me. “When I bound our souls, it was an impulsive thing to do, I admit it. But the feeling behind it was sincere. I cannot, will not, live without you.”
“I know,” I say, my breath catching. “I can’t live without you either. We’re entwined like two vines.”
“Yes, but there’s a big fucking weed in the way,” he says, flicking his gaze over my shoulder.
I turn to see Rafe striding our way.
Rafe’s a good guy. Okay, so he’s a seriously dangerous assassin, but he has a sweet side to him that melts in my mouth like a sugary candy. He’s got this quality that’s extremely addictive—every time a person has sex with him, it’s like the first time—every time—for them, at least. He’s an endless stream of teenage love with a berserker kicker. It’s a useful quality. Having endless sex helps him manage his berserker abilities—when deprived of all touch, even simple contact—that’s when he goes berserk. That’s when he can do his job with the greatest deadliness. If the jobs are especially gruesome, his handlers will lock him away and deprive him of all touch, all human contact until he snaps and goes psycho berserk. That’s when he wants to kill me. It’s a side effect of loving me.
“I just picked up a job,” he says.
“Seriously? We have to leave in seven days,” I say.
“It will be quick,” he reassures me. “And I’ll be richer. It’s an easy gig.”
“Any risk of death?” Daniel asks.
“Daniel!” I say, punching his arm.
“I’m only asking,” he says. “Well, is there?”
“There’s always a risk of death to an assassin’s job, you know that,” Rafe says to him, his blue eyes sparking fire. “Don’t get your hopes up, dick-wad. I’m very good at what I do.”
And they’re off in one of their endless alpha, “who’s the man,” dog fights. I wander to the house, shaking my head. I need a good shower to rinse off the sweat and grime from this morning’s training and then I’ll be set to see Marta. In the meantime, boys will be boys. And sometimes boys will be complete jerks.
Chapter 2
As I step toward my smart car to leave, clean and showered from Tom’s utilitarian shower stall, gym bag at my side, Rafe materializes out of the blur of Warplandia, looking like a Marine or special ops badass, wearing army fatigues and a black, sleeveless t-shirt. “Hey,” he says to me softly, focused on mine.
“Hey,” I say.
“Just want to say goodbye. Promise I’ll be back in a couple of days. I also want to tell you that you’re really coming along. You’re getting quite skillful with your mastery of magic and power.”
“Thank you. You’re the only person who tells me I’m improving.”
“Yeah.” He steps toward me and stands close, fingering my cheek. “The others mince their compliments. They don’t want you to get a big head.” He grins.
“Oh, no chance of that. Not at the rate I’m progressing.” I smile and breathe him in. He’s about six foot three or four, powerfully built, and with freckles everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. He’s also handsome, smart, sensitive, funny, kind, and savvy.
“Why do you have to go away?” I ask. I reach up to rest my arms along his warm chest, my fingertips on his neck, and incline my head to look at him.
“I just do. Long story. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’ll miss you.” I kiss the center of his chest, along the breastbone.
“Oh, baby, I’ll miss you, too,” he says, low and throaty. He lowers his head, lifts mine, and seeks out my lips with his.
The feeling is intoxicating. As usual, it’s like the first time I’ve ever kissed in my life. His lips fill me with promise, hope, and springtime exuberance. I always feel restored and sweetly innocent after being intimate with Rafe.
He deepens the kiss, grinding his pelvis against me, pushing me back against the cool metal of the car and sliding his tongue inside my mouth.
When he pulls back, we’re both breathless. “Sure you have to go? We could have a quickie,” I say, rubbing lightly at the heat in his pants, hungry for intimate contact.
“Save it for me,” he says. “I’ll need some when I get back, you can be certain.” He dips down for another juicy, wet kiss, then draws away with a delicious lip smacking sound. “Mmm,” he says. “You’re the best.” Placing both hands on my cheeks, he says, “I think I’ve mastered this berserker thing.”
“Really?” I brighten. “That’s wonderful. But why do you think that? You haven’t tested it out.”
“Oh, but I have, at least a little. The last few weeks, while we’ve been training, I’ve been experimenting with not asking you for love when I need it, waiting as long as I can and…” He snaps his fingers. “Nothing. No dark impulses. No crazy thoughts about destroying you.”
A laugh leaves my mouth before I have a chance to suppress it. “You do realize how insane that sounds, right? ‘I haven’t wanted to kill you once, darlin’. I love you that much.’”
Rafe scoffs. “I see your point. Still, I’m encouraged.” He plants tender kisses on each eyelid, my temples, my cheekbones, and my jaw.
My head falls back against the car. “Mmm, Rafe, love, you’re getting me all hot and bothered.”
“Good,” he says, leaning back. “I’d rather leave you wanting than leave you wanting me to get the hell away.”
I chuckle. “Hasn’t happened yet.”
“Let’s keep it that way.” He glances at his black Marathon watch with the camouflage band and says, “It’s eleven hundred hours, darlin’. Gotta meet the client at noon.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to keep Marta waiting. I haven’t seen her for two years. Two years! Can you imagine not seeing someone you deeply care about for two years?” My thoughts roam to that weekend in Las Vegas and my beautiful one night stand, Chris King. A stab of pain lances my heart. I shove all thoughts of Chris into the mental hiding place, where I keep them locked tight. I’m sure I’m only thinking of him because of Marta, and because Rafe’s gotten me all worked up.
He smiles and nuzzles my nose with his. “No,” he whispers. “I can’t.” He pivots and places his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, side by side. “You ready for this adventure?”
“Not quite. I’m savoring our last few days. If I think about it too much, I get terrified. I don’t know what to expect.”
“You’ll do great,” he says, squeezing my shoulder. “Seriously. You’re strong, you’re smart, and you have far more magic inside than you’re even aware of. It will be there when you need it.”
“Maybe. But will I know what to do with it? I seem out of control. I still don’t have ultimate mastery.”
“Practice makes perfect, love. I wasn’t born an assassin. I had to train.”
“Oh. Well, of course.” I bite my lip. “You lead a deadly life…both you and Daniel. Sometimes it scares me what you two do.”
He shrugs. “Gotta make a living, darlin’.”
“By killing people?”
“Only the bad ones.”
I look up at him, examining what looks to me to be such a kind face. “What if you get it wrong?”
“I don’t get it wrong. I never get it wrong. I’m very good at what I do.” He holds up his
hand, makes a gun with his fingers, and pretends to shoot. “Bam! Deadly accuracy.” His hands mimic grabbing someone’s neck and twisting. “Kkk,” he says. “Dead.” He tosses the non-existent head behind him.
“Great re-enactment,” I say with an eye roll. I place my hand on his hard belly. “If you kill me, well…that would be wrong.”
He winces and stares into the distance. “If I were to do that, I couldn’t live with myself. I’d allow one of Daniel’s dark demons to have its way with me and be done with it.” He shakes his head. “Heartbreak city for many, not just me.” He removes his arm from my shoulders and picks up my hand, kissing the back. “I never meant to love you, Marissa, you know that.”
“I never meant to love you either.”
“And yet here we are.”
I nod, quiet. “And I have to make all these dumb decisions, like which one of you to choose. Why is it up to me?”
“You don’t have to. Daniel and I fight a lot, but we could all find a way to deal with this…this situation. If we had to,” he adds.
“I don’t think Daniel can do that. He hates the situation.”
“Right,” Rafe says, kissing my palm. “I hate it to. He’ll get over it.”
“Don’t think so.” I bite my lip. “I don’t know what to do, Rafe. Having two lovers…it goes against everything I grew up with. I feel like all I’m doing is making some bossy ass statement.”
“About being soul bound without your consent?” He replies softly.
“Yeah. I mean, Daniel and I barely knew each other and then, wham! ‘Uh, hey, babe, great sex, and our souls are now bound through time.’ But then there’s another truth.”
“Which is?”
“I love you both. You each give me something unique. With you I feel innocent, restored, alive, ready for anything. With Daniel I feel fierce power. And, you both regard me differently. Daniel claims me.... You allow me. It’s so different that I can’t wrap my head around it.”
He gives me another squeeze. “You’re thinking with your mortal mind. You lost your numinous mind when it was important to embrace this kind of shit. You’ll get it back.”