“I didn’t grow up this way. I never knew about this…” She waved her finger around her face. “It wasn’t until one night in a Vegas hotel…” her voice trailed off, she lowered her eyes as the tears threatened to flow once more, as she remembered why she was running in the first place.
Attor once more hooked her chin with his finger and lifted her eyes to meet his. He was so taken by the beauty that sat looking back at him, he couldn’t imagine going one more day without her being part of his life. He knew with complete certainty, that from this moment on he was bagged and tagged.
“Do you trust me?” Attor asked as he held her gaze. “I asked you this once before, I’m hoping things might have changed.”
Taryn looked deeply into the eyes of a dragon. He had kidnapped her, held her against her will and scared the living bejeebers out of her. Yet, here he sat, exposed and vulnerable asking her to give him a chance. He knew what she was. She was the very thing his clan hated most in the world, but he saw past that. He looked into her soul, her heart, her mind, and didn’t walk away. When most men would run, he’d chosen against all his natural instincts to follow. Now it was her choice. Did she run like she had always done? Or did she stop and follow her instincts.
Taryn waited a few seconds before nodding. “I trust you.”
Attor kissed her with an intensity that pushed her backward. Bringing up his other hand to cup her face as he rolled his lips harder against hers. A soft growl bubbled up from his chest as his brain set off a skyline full of fireworks. Under the shaded protection of a small group of trees, Attor reached over, scooped her up and slid her body over to sit on his lap.
His lips not leaving hers, he wrapped his massive arms around her waist and pulled her firmly against him. His hand dropped to cup her firm, round ass, squeezing it with his strong fingers. The hard squeeze made her open her mouth in surprise as he dove deep with his tongue. Finding hers, he tilted his head and kissed her deeply with all the intense emotion his heart was feeling.
Taryn broke the kiss, she sat up with her eyes wide. “Um… Attor?”
“Mmm…” He smiled as he ran his hands slowly up and down her back, lost in the moment.
“I think they have rules about public displays here.” Taryn slapped his chest playfully as she repeated, “Attor…”
He laughed loudly. “Beating up your man already? That didn’t take long.”
“You got gifted a strong woman, blame fate.” She grinned. “But as I was saying, you have an… um… bulge.” She ground slowly against his growing cock.
“Oh…” He grinned widely, his eyes crinkled with humor. “Blame fate?” he meekly offered her an excuse for lil’T making an appearance. “Keep moving those sexy hips like that, and getting arrested for public indecency will be worth it.” He pulled her hard against him, whispering into her sweet-smelling hair, “I want to spend a lifetime exploring every inch of your body with the greatest attention to details.”
Taryn’s heart exploded with the pleasure that her body was shooting. “I think I like it when you talk like that.”
“I like talking like that.” Attor smiled as he squeezed her ass.
“What now?” Her back slumped slightly, her mind coming back from the ambrosia caused by Attor’s lips. They had a reality that was far from perfect and ignoring it wouldn’t make it go away.
Attor understood by her tone that the moment was over, and she needed him to do more than just talk the words. This was where he put his money where his mouth was, stepped up, and became a mate worthy of her love.
“Now, we go meet up with my brothers. Payton and Kylee will want to know you’re okay.”
“Oh no… they saw…” her voice caught on the back of her throat.
“Payton is V’s mate. She identified you as my mate before I did. Kylee on the other hand? I’m sure V and Payton have that under control.” His words were calming. “That’s the first place we need to go…” he added his new thought of a pet name, “… Feathers.”
“Feathers?” Her eyebrow rose with intrigue.
“Well, I tried out baby girl, darling, and sweetheart all in my head. But Feathers sounded more like you.” He grinned at the sound of her laugh.
Taryn’s smile vanished as Attor’s eyes froze mid-chuckle, and his body thumped back heavily onto the ground like a discarded sack of potatoes. She pushed his chest, “Tor? Tor?” Her voice was sprinkled with panic as she placed her ear on his chest. A small relief gained at hearing his heart beating regularly, despite his body being unconscious.
Taryn lifted her head as she searched for what might have happened. The man from the mall was standing a few feet away. He slowly twirled a blow dart in his hand as he started to walk forward with an even pace so as to not draw attention from the busy street.
“What did you do?” she hissed as she crawled protectively over her newly found mate.
“Oh… my,” the man said. “A phoenix protecting a dragon? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” He clicked his tongue in disgust. “That will never fly with me.”
“Who are you?” Taryn spat accusingly at the stranger.
“For the moment, you can call me the Sandman.”
His grin sent chills down her spine, but she swallowed hard and asked, “Sandman?”
“Nighty night, Taryn.” The stranger brought the bamboo straw to his mouth, and with a short, sharp breath, he sent the dart flying. Taryn felt the prick of pain as it lodged in her shoulder, and within seconds the blackness had crept into her eyes as she crumpled on top of Attor, lost to the dark.
Q pulled out his cell and pressed a button, raising it to his ear he said, “Bring the van. Now.” Clicking it off, he put it back into the front pocket of his jeans. Looking down upon the two unconscious bodies, he couldn’t help but grin. Fortune had certainly looked kindly upon him today.
“Ladon,” Jo said his name. “Do you see that?” They had left the mall in search of the phoenix, and had found themselves a few blocks down the road.
“Huh?” Ladon looked up, turning his head to follow the direction Jo was looking. “What the fuck?” Ladon watched as a large black van was being loaded with two bodies. There was five huge men juggling the weight of one particularly massive body into the open side door. The smaller body was thrown over the shoulder of another man, as a seventh man was standing back speaking on his cell.
Wyvern ran up to join them, panting as he looked at what had caused his brothers to stop. “That’s Q.” He pointed to the man on the phone.
“If that’s Q… then… who is…” Jo gulped as his eyes caught a glimpse of the pink shirt he’d seen Attor wearing earlier. “Fuck, that’s Attor,” he yelled. “Phoenix!”
The brothers launched at the same time Q looked up. Jo saw the moment he recognized the three dragons heading his way. He shoved the men into the van with a force that rocked it on its wheels. Jo roared as he saw Q slide the door shut and the van take off. Unless he changed, Jo knew it wasn’t possible to run it down. He watched as Q moved to the back of the van. The moment he saw that feathered bastard smile and wave, was when Jo signed his death warrant. Come hell or high water, he swore on his mother’s grave, Q would die at his hands. He would take that bird’s neck with his bare hands and squeeze until there was a snap that ended its miserable life.
Ladon pulled out his cell. “V?
“Q has Attor and Taryn…
“Just now… black van…
“Looked unconscious…
“On our way…
Ladon clicked the cell phone off. He looked at his brothers who were obviously distressed at Attor having been taken. “V wants us at the hotel. Now.”
They nodded, already on the move.
Every second counted.
Who knew how many seconds Attor and Taryn had left?
Pettigrove stood in the spacious living room of her luxurious hotel suite, she had waited until the evening had fallen to arrange the drop off of her precious cargo. Looking down on Q’s daughter’s unconscious body, sh
e couldn’t help but smile. When she had her location, a plan was easily formulated. Mr. Singed had come on board with a couple of others, posing as maintenance workers in her office. They were able to get the upper hand without much of a kerfuffle.
“She dropped easily,” Singed said as he reclined his ample frame into a chair. “Her receptionist was more trouble. She kept screaming about her dead body being hidden forever.” He laughed with a dark undercurrent. “I guess she must have been psychic or something.”
The pleasure he took in his work caused a shiver to run up Pettigrove’s spine. She was a locator of people, but on the few times a person has needed to be removed, it never gave her the level of pleasure that was currently dancing across Mr. Singed’s face. “I don’t think I want to know any more,” she said. “I have what I want.”
“When’s he due to arrive?”
She looked at her watch. “Fifteen minutes. So if you don’t mind.” With a point to the door, she politely asked him to leave.
“Oh?” he mocked. “You will use me for labor, but not for the glory?”
“Something like that. Now, out.”
Singed studied her for a few minutes before lifting his heavy frame from the chair, its sigh of relief as the cushions inflated from where they were squished flat was evident. “Fine.” He held out his hand, palm up with a look of expectation on his face.
Pettigrove pulled a fat envelope from her desk and placed it in his hand. “This should pay for your silence.”
Singed opened it up to see a thick wad of American bills. Flicking his thumb along them, he took a large breath, letting the scent intoxicate him briefly. “I love the smell of cash in the evening.”
“You love the smell of cash at any time.” Pettigrove smirked.
“You know me well,” he said grinning. “‘Til next time.” Singed walked over to the door and left, without any more than the click of the latch left in his wake.
A small groan caused Pettigrove to turn back to the body lying on her living room floor. She walked over, using her boot to push the hip of her captive guest. Another groan emanated as it began to move even more, stretching out its legs.
“Evening, sleepyhead,” Pettigrove said joyfully, her smile widened as the woman’s head flicked around and locked eyes with her. This was the first time she’d seen her in the flesh. She had been searching for her for so long now, it was almost anticlimactic to have her so helpless at her feet.
“What happened?” Cinders asked, her words slurred with the effects of the drugs still traveling through her body.
“Greetings… Grace Nadene Quade,” Pettigrove said her full birth name.
“Grace Cinders… my name is Grace Cinders.” Cinders struggled with her lips, closing her eyes as she made them obey her commands.
“That’s not what your daddy says,” Pettigrove quipped. “I’m sure you can discuss that with him yourself.” Sliding up her sleeve, checking her watch, Pettigrove grinned. “He should be here any second.”
Cinders pushed against the sturdy black fabric covering that wrapped her arms around her body. She was confined entirely from the waist to the neck, and even in her weakened state, she understood there was no breaking through.
“Snug enough? Had a little spell put on it just for you. Wouldn’t want any wings springing free or anything. Would we?” Pettigrove squatted down near her head. “Would you like me to help you to a chair?” When Cinders nodded, she grabbed her shoulders and helped her up. Walking her over the few steps to the plush sofa, she helped her sit in the corner. “Better?”
Cinders nodded again to the question she was asked. “Thank you,” Cinders said, wincing as she wiggled. Now the drugs had worn off, her body was hurting from where she’d obviously been handled with less than gentle care.
Pettigrove took a seat opposite her. “I’m not a monster. I’m not here to hurt anyone. This was just a job. Locate and deliver, that’s all.”
“And for the people who don’t want to be delivered?” Cinders asked, her voice was gaining a steadiness to form full sentences.
Tilting her head, she pondered the thought for a few beats. “I’m paid for a job to be completed, the rest isn’t my concern.” She saw Cinders looking around the room, trying to form some plan of escape, no doubt. “I wouldn’t bother. I’m not just here for the luxury, as much as that’s a very pleasant perk.” Pettigrove chuckled. “That spa alone… mmm…” A small shake of her head. “Anyway, yes… back to you. This suite is fifty-three floors up, and virtually soundproof. Perk of so much marble and tiles being used, I guess.” Shrugging as she leaned back in the chair, she crossed her legs in front of her.
“And my dad is on his way?”
A frown creased her forehead as she looked again at her timepiece. “Yes, but he’s late. Unusual… he’s normally punctual to the point of obsessive.”
“Glad he hasn’t changed,” Cinders mumbled. “Maybe he got hit by a car?” A hopeful spike in her voice made Pettigrove laugh.
“I will admit, he doesn’t reek of fatherly love. But—”
“Then let me go,” Cinders voice jumped in quickly, her eagerness making it rise an octave. “Let me fly out of here, silently, I promise to not say a word to anyone.”
Pettigrove shook her head. “I have a perfect record. That’s why I get paid the big bucks, honey.” Her head turned to a noise on the balcony outside. A few large thumps as her guests arrived by wing. “Daddy’s here.”
Grinning, she got up and walked over to the large glass doors. Unclipping the lock, she slid them open and jumped back with a gasp. Two men carried in a very large unconscious man and dumped him on the floor of her living room. Following that, in came another male who carried a much smaller female, motionless just like the male, as she was flopped unceremoniously on to the floor as well. Q strode in, his back straight and head held high.
Pettigrove stepped back from the commotion as she said, “I didn’t know this was a ‘bring your own body’ party?”
Q looked at her. “Don’t concern yourself with things that have nothing to do with you.” He looked at the men standing over the unconscious bodies. “Tell me if they move.” He saw them nod then turned to a female who was sitting on the sofa. Her eyes widened with terror as he walked slowly toward her. “Grace…”
“Father…” The word tasted like acid in her mouth.
“You never returned my Christmas calls?” He sat next to her, leaving a small space on the sofa as he turned his body to face her. “Why, Grace?”
Cinders scoffed. “Let me think… was it the fact you ordered my termination? That you were happy to have someone kill your own daughter, rather than face the fact she hated you? Hated the blaze? Hated everything that was phoenix?” Cinders said with calmness—she always knew her time would come. Obviously, it was her time to pay the piper. “Couldn’t have people thinking you were somehow less than the perfect father, could you?”
The crack of Q’s hand slapping Cinders’ face echoed around the room. Making Pettigrove gasp as she watched Cinders’ face violently toss a full ninety degrees to the left under the force of her father’s hand.
“Thank you, Daddy. May I have another?” Cinders said through gritted teeth as she slowly turned her head back to look into the eyes of her childhood abuser. She winced as he raised his hand once more, the venom that boiled in his eyes was something she’d grown up with. The beatings had started when she was first able to fly. If she dared defy him, she would feel his displeasure for weeks after. “Go on, hit me again, you soul destroying bastard.” Cinders lifted her chin in defiance. “Go on,” she taunted the devil that sat in front of her in the shape of her father. “Beating on your little girl made you feel like such a fucking big man, didn’t it? Go on Daddy, hit me, just like the good old days.”
Seeing red at being disrespected publicly, Q clenched his fist and drove it hard into the chin of his daughter. Her head launching up with such force it nearly lifted her off the chair. He reached over and grabbe
d her chin hard, bringing her face to within an inch of his own. He growled deeply as the blood from her nose dripped down her shirt “Disrespectful little whore, I should have killed you at birth along with your mother.”
“I guess it’s time to clean up old mistakes then, huh?” Cinders murmured through the pain which now radiated through her jaw.
“Ahh… boss?” one of the men standing by the wall said. “The big one is waking.”
Q stood up, he looked down at his daughter and his lips turned up with disgust. She sat tall in the chair, her head held defiantly proud, despite knowing she caused shame on the family name. Making a vulgar sound at the back of his throat, and spat at his daughter’s head. “I will be back.”
Cinders didn’t flinch at the wet glob of spit as it hit her forehead and slid down her face. “Oh, goodie…” she mocked. “I simply can’t wait for more of this wonderful… Daddy—daughter time.” Flashing a smile at him as she watched him walk away. Cinders’ eyes fell to Pettigrove, and by the look of remorse dancing across her face, she obviously didn’t truly understand the level of evil she’d been hired by.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.
Cinders thought about letting her off the hook but went with her instinct. “Sorry won’t keep me alive.” Shrugging with resigned acceptance, she knew she wouldn’t see another sunrise.
A quick look showed Pettigrove that her employer was distracted, she moved over next to Cinders. “I just locate. That’s all. It’s a job.”
Cinders snorted, “Yeah, you said that. The thing that confuses me is why you don’t understand that some people vanish for a reason. Some people disappear for their own safety. Then… in trots some pretty little owl shifter, with a pole of grandeur shoved so hard up her ass, that she should rightfully look like a fucking long-necked flamingo. Telling secrets, finding lost puppies and causing the death of God knows how many shifters, who were only trying to survive the abuse of their past.”
Depth (Apalala Clan Book 2) Page 18