by Jane Cousins
Dimity’s gaze narrowed, lips flattening into an unimpressed line. “No way. I want my phone back.”
“If you want to wear my clothes, then you will get your gorgeous butt up those stairs and smile for the camera.”
Dimity upped her hard eyed glare, but Riya didn’t waver in the slightest. This girl was a complete amateur when compared to say her mother. Who could remove a coat of nail polish with a simple look.
“Fine.” Dimity all but spat. Stomping past. “But no one ever smiles in photos anymore. That’s like completely last century.”
Riya shrugged. “Okay then, I’m sure you and I can find something off the rack in New York for you to wear tonight.”
Dimity muttered a few obscenities under her breath as she thumped up the stairs. On the top step she turned and faced Riya. “Just take the damn thing, already.”
“Uncross your arms, and smile on three. One, two, three.” As planned, on three, Nate and Dash appeared at Dimity’s shoulders, smiling for all they were worth, looking studly and way hot in their tactical black fatigues.
Dimity sucked in a dismayed breath, realising she’d been photo-bombed. “What the hell?” Glaring at the two over-muscled morons before transferring her attention back to Riya. “What are you typing? Don’t do that. Give that back to me.”
Riya hit send and sashayed up the steps to hand over the phone.
Dimity groaned as she looked down at the Tweet Riya had sent out. Captioned below the photo of the trio smiling were the words. ‘And I’m the boss of them, lucky me! Mixing it with the Para-X guys.’
“Oh, no. No, no.” Dimity’s bottom lip was beginning to quiver again. Riya could only pray that she hadn’t gotten this wrong. “Oh.” This was a softer sound. Dimity’s whole body tensing and suddenly relaxing.
“What?” Riya tried to see the screen.
Dimity turned it slightly. Riya’s gaze flicked down over several comments.
So jealous.
They are way hot!!!
What is Para-X? And where can I get me some?
Riya released a deep relieved breath. Thanks heavens, it had worked.
Marcus frowned, looking up at Riya and Dimity as they stepped on to the plane. “Can you explain why in the last ninety seconds the traffic to the Para-X website has increased by a factor of six hundred and forty-eight percent? And why, from all the comments and accompanying heart emojis, our visitors appear to be young and female?”
Riya laughed, punching Dimity playfully on the shoulder. “Dimity’s fan base has just found out she’s hanging with you guys. I suggest you update the site to let them know she’s on board and in a starring role.”
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Dimity looked torn between hope that her online reputation was not only intact but on the rise and horrified at the very idea that she would be confirming her connection with the show and her new job.
“It’s all about spin.” Riya smiled. “On paper Forrest Media have a big stake in Para-X, play up the boss angle and no one will question why you want to have some fun hanging out with a group of gorgeous men in uniform.”
Dimity’s back immediately straightened, brash confidence once more back on her features.
“Why don’t you sit up front?” Riya indicated the chair next to Marcus and then gestured over at her cousin. “And have you met Daniel yet? He hosts the show.” Riya reached over to nudge Daniel to get his attention.
Lifting his storm grey gaze from the book in his lap, Daniel smiled in greeting, reaching up to yank off his glasses and begin absently polishing them on his dark brown shirt. “Riya, hi.”
“Daniel. Have you met Dimity? She’s going to be working on the show, mainly with you, as your sidekick.”
“That’s great. Welcome.” Daniel flashed a friendly grin.
Riya expected any number of responses from Dimity. A disdainful sniff and accompanying hard glare. Or perhaps stony, unimpressed silence. What she wasn’t prepared for was Dimity to blush bright red, and begin to stutter as she gazed at Daniel with wide eyed interest and embarrassed dismay. So Dimity crushed on studly nerd types? Oh, this should make things interesting.
“Hi.” Dimity managed to finally form a word.
Daniel was oblivious to the impact he’d made on their newest team member. “There’s a file around here somewhere that you should read. I think Rafe has it. The Montague, the place we’ll be filming at tonight has a fascinating history. Over twenty murders have been reported there, it’s where Lefty Lucci did most of his killings back in the twenties.”
“Belt up people.” Flynn’s voice came over the loud speaker, as Dash waved farewell to Vaughn before pulling closed the door and locking it.
“Um… good to meet you.” Dimity blushed harder still. “I’ll sit in the back.” She grabbed Riya by the arm and all but shoved her down on to the empty seat next to Marcus. “You sit up here.”
Great, just where she hadn’t wanted to sit. Moving now would make her look foolish so Riya buckled up, glancing across the aisle at Daniel. “Lefty Lucci?”
Daniel might be distracted but he was beyond brilliant. He double checked to ensure that Dimity was out of earshot before replying. “That’s who I’ll be basing the show on tonight… the ghost of Lefty Lucci, gangster, hitman, and all around bad guy. Thought it would play well to the audience.”
“Lefty because he was missing a hand?”
“You’d think so, but no.” Daniel pushed an auburn curl out of the way as he put his glasses back on. “It was his signature torture move that earned him the nickname. He liked to remove his victims’ left thumbs.”
“Nice.” Riya grimaced.
“I know, right.” Daniel smiled, oblivious to her reaction. “Of course I think the real culprit at the Montague is Imps. I’m guessing just low grade trouble-makers on the Imp spectrum. Probably just need to be rounded up and found a new home.”
The plane began to taxi down the runway, and within moments was leaving the ground behind. Sighing, knowing she could no longer avoid him, Riya shifted her attention to Marcus. He’d closed his laptop and was in the process of reclining his chair, looking like he was settling down to grab some shut-eye.
“Should you be doing that? Sleeping?” Charming looked beyond weary. She was guessing Marcus hadn’t slept since the two hours they had napped together yesterday afternoon.
“Actually, this is the perfect place for me to catch some shut-eye. According to Daniel, Dream Vampires can’t track a moving target.”
“Dream Vampires?”
“They feed on brain wave energy. Mostly they’re harmless and fly under the radar. I’m guessing the Vamp after me has gone mainstream and hires out her services to the highest bidder. Think of all the corporate espionage possibilities if you could enter a person’s dreams.”
“What are you going to do?” Riya was worried, someone who could enter your dreams could leave behind any number of nasty suggestions. Or tap into your unconscious and maybe even take control.
“Staying awake has been working pretty well for me so far. I’ve got my hackers checking the dark web, trying to work out if the contract out on me is just for information on where the rubies are, or if it’s a kill order combo.”
A shiver of worry raced down Riya’s spine. “How can you sound so casual about it?”
“You’re forgetting I have over a hundred years of experience tangling with bad guys. No one has gotten me yet. The plan is for my team to back trace the Dream Vamp, once we have her contact information we’ll offer to double her fee to hand over the whereabouts of Sek and Mot.” Marcus shifted slightly to get more comfortable.
“Oh, that’s a good idea.” Riya felt the tight bands squeezing her chest too tightly begin to loosen.
“Of course, there’s a pretty good chance that Sek and Mot have hired more than one contractor. It’s what I’d do, and they’re not stupid.”
Riya grimaced as once more the tightness squeezed her chest uncomfortably. She was just c
oncerned, that was all. A low level medium amount of concern for an… acquaintance.
“Do me a favour?” Marcus’s voice was low, rough, edged with fatigue.
Riya had to clamp down on the urge to promise him anything if he’d just keep talking to her in that growly, soft, sexy tone. “What?”
“If I start tossing and turning, acting like I did last time, would you punch me awake again?”
“I’ll happily call in Drum.”
Marcus chuffed a low, weary laugh, even as he grabbed Riya’s hand resting on the armrest, raised it, placing a soft warm kiss on her knuckles. “Nah, I’d prefer your dainty touch any day of the week.”
As Marcus settled back and closed his eyes, Riya couldn’t help but rub absently at her hand, where he’d kissed her. Such a simple act. Not contrived or planned. Yet, things low in her body had liquefied and been set on a low simmer. And she was afraid that it wouldn’t take much more effort on the part of this irritating, judgemental, know-it-all jerk to change that setting to boiling.
Damn, she was in trouble here. Big trouble. It was all well and good for her to say she was prepared to fight Fate. But if she did that, there would be significant ramifications. Her life would go down an unplanned path. And there was her unborn baby to consider.
If… and that was a big - yet to be verified - if. If Marcus was the father of her yet to be conceived child, and she refused to consider a relationship with him, then what would happen to the baby?
Sorrow pierced through Riya as she thought about the baby she’d carried around for not quite a day, two and a half years ago.
Okay, so maybe… maybe Fate in this particular instance wasn’t so much about having a relationship with Marcus. A man who clearly didn’t want to be in a relationship with the likes of her. But perhaps this was just about the baby. Babies were conceived every day. The parents didn’t have to be in relationship. Be in love. Even like one another.
Damn it. Just when had her life gotten so darn messy? And confusing? Since Fate decided to start blocking her visions, that’s when. When she started creating outfits with no glimpse of possible futures because Fate hadn’t wanted to influence her.
Crap, since she’d come into her magic, Riya had trusted in Fate. Had been whole-heartedly comfortable in her role helping people make important, life-changing decisions.
Well, fine. She was a Fate Weaver. She’d brought along plenty of clothes in those three suitcases that would fit her. Maybe, for the sake of her future baby she should continue to put her trust in Fate. Fingers crossed it wouldn’t come back to bite her on the ass.
* * *
Vaughn had just finished locking up the hanger when his phone rang. Hauling it out of his trouser pocket his gut seized the instant he saw Hadleigh’s name. He felt sick to his stomach. It had to be the baby. What if something were wrong? Of all days to bring his car. Fuck that, he’d just leave it here and take the Transportal Hadleigh had set up in their private Hangar. The one hiding behind the door marked – Cleaning Supplies.
Flipping open the phone, Vaughn held it to his ear. “Are you okay? Is it the baby?” He barked out the questions in quick succession.
“Vaughn-”
“I can be there in three minutes, just hold on, okay?” He glanced down, noting in his anxiety that he’d pulverised the set of keys he’d been holding into shards, blood dripping from his hand. Bloody hell, fuck, he’d just have to tear the door off the hangar, it could be replaced. “Have you called Nell? Have you timed the contractions? Is the baby-”
“Vaughn!” Hadleigh yelled loudly to get his attention. “The blessed baby is fine. I… you… you’re an idiot. This isn’t working.” And with that she hung up.
Vaughn stared in bewilderment at his phone, the dial tone beeping loudly. Shit, was Hadleigh leaving him?
His gorgeous meld mate was nine months pregnant. For the past few weeks she’d been giving him nothing but the silent treatment and the clear grey glare of death. What else was he supposed to think when she contacted him out of the blue like this? Damn, and she’d sounded upset.
And Vaughn couldn’t blame her, not one little bit. He knew Hadleigh was uncomfortable, and worse, unhappy. She was chomping at the bit to release all that pent up Warrior aggression of hers and there was no way for her to do that safely. Not in her current condition.
And there was crap all Vaughn could do about it. Except stay close in case Hadleigh needed something. Make sure she ate healthily. Drank plenty of fluids. Exercised in moderation. Ensured she got the recommended amount of sleep. All of which pretty much equated to hovering, he knew it, he’d tried to break the habit. But he was terrified that something would happen to Hadleigh or the baby.
Which brought Vaughn back to the question of why his wife had rung him just now. Did she need something? He’d been so busy thinking it was the baby coming he’d barely let Hadleigh get a word in edge wise. Shit, he needed to get back to the Tower and find out what was wrong. He’d barely taken a step when his phone rang again. His gut eased slightly when he saw who was calling. “Hadleigh?”
“Vaughn.” Her tone sounded terse and more than a little wary.
“Everything okay?” It was a struggle but he tried to sound casual.
“We should date.”
Vaughn frowned, playing back her words. He recognised them, but they were totally not what he was expecting his heavily pregnant wife to say.
“Did you hear me?” Her tone was even more terse. This, what ever Hadleigh had planned, was important.
“What about if I told you I don’t date?” He replied softly.
“Religious reasons?” Hadleigh’s voice was suddenly teasing and light-hearted.
Ah, Vaughn found himself smiling. They had swapped roles but were re-enacting a conversation that had taken place when they’d first met and he’d been trying to convince a very reluctant Hadleigh to date him. “What? No.”
“What are the exceptions?”
“I suppose I might be able to break the rules for my wife.” He went a little off script.
“Good. And speaking of rules. You should know there will be some.”
“Really? Would you care to elaborate?”
“First date rules. You do remember them, don’t you?” There was the slightest lilt in her voice, happiness.
All the tension Vaughn had been holding on to for the last month, all his fears and concerns about Hadleigh, their baby, all his worries regarding everything that could go wrong, had sunk deep barbed wire hooks into his gut. But for the first time in ages, he felt the hooks slide out a little. And he was able to breathe a little easier.
“Let me see. First date rules? Innocent but truthful compliments are allowed, hand holding is a must and last but not least, stolen kisses.”
“That’s my Viking.” Hadleigh sounded more than pleased.
“So where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise. But I expect you dressed and ready by eight. Casual.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Hadleigh? I love you.”
“You too, Viking. Don’t be late.”
Vaughn found himself smiling even as he contemplated the broken keys in his rapidly healing hand. Damn, one of those had been his car key. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to get too upset, he had a date tonight with his gorgeous meld mate.
And he could only assume from his wife’s current condition that they’d be heading to some quiet little out of the way restaurant. With low lighting and great food. A romantic meal for two before the baby came, it was a damn good idea.
They could go over the birthing plan. He’d been doing a lot of reading and wasn’t sold on epidurals. On the other hand, he didn’t want Hadleigh to be in pain. But there were other options, natural ones that Nell supported, tonight would be a perfect time to discuss all the pros and cons.
And maybe they could narrow down the baby name list. He had put forward his thoughts but had a suspicion that Hadleigh didn’t like them for some reason. Oh, and the
y hadn’t decided yet whether to circumcise or not if it was boy. Or committed to a breastfeeding plan. Or decided who was going to be Godparents. Crap, there was still so much baby-centric stuff to sort out. But tonight they’d get it all squared away.
Date night, what a great idea.
Chapter Nine
Marcus adjusted his new belt for the umpteenth time. It was comfortable, surprisingly so, interwoven with nylon webbing and secured to his body by a strap around his left thigh. Thanks to it he could carry three extra knives, a screwdriver set and strap the field medical kit snug against his lower back. The fact that Riya had designed and made the belt had disconcerted him at first.
Yet it wasn’t like he could complain. It was practical, helped streamline his equipment and was much appreciated by his fellow Warriors, who had quickly strapped and secured their equipment into the new belts upon receiving them.
Moving along the darkened sixth floor hallway of the Montague, Marcus had to give the belt further props for being all but weightless and noise-free. None of his equipment jangled or annoyed him as he followed Rafe and Flynn down the strobe-lit hallway. With practised movements Marcus adjusted the strobe light clipped to his Kevlar vest, angling it lower, then switched to the wide angle pan for the camera attached to the right side of his vest. They were in hunt mode, filming the search for Lefty Lucci, resident poltergeist.
Well, that’s how Benny would edit the footage.
In reality, according to Daniel, they were looking for a bunch of wayward Imps. If they could find their den, then it would be a matter of setting a few traps, baiting them with lighters, tacks and tubes of superglue. Anything that had the potential to promote mischief. Once the Imps had taken the bait, the traps would close and they would transport their trouble making Imp asses to somewhere a lot more remote.
The trio halted on Rafe’s signal. They were making fast progress checking out the sixth floor where the re-fit was about fifty percent complete. Meaning a lot of the rooms were all but empty. Still, Marcus could tell from the floor plan and the materials, that this was going to be a five-star venue when it was finished. The rooms would retain a 1920’s vibe, but be full of puzzles, trap doors and tunnels to keep the clientele entertained and surprised.