Parker's Silver Lineman: Chosen Book 10

by J. D. Light

  He almost looked like a bodyguard standing there in front of Oscar's desk, his arms folded over his chest like he was daring someone to cross the line.

  His dark eyes shifted to me and then away quickly, but it was enough to spike my blood pressure and make me choke off a moan. Like literally, I started coughing uncontrollably, drawing the man's attention, a frown marring his stone cold forehead as I desperately tried to cut off the hacking and drawn a breath like a normal person.

  As usual, Oscar ignored me. I was for nothing but show as of yet. A status symbol and so his shifter friends would know he owned his very own chosen.

  I couldn't be more thankful that the man was actually straight, otherwise he might have already tried to have sex with me in the three weeks that I've been here, and I honestly wouldn't have been able to tell him no without risking the thing that means the most to me in the whole world.

  "I thought there was a female among this group, Bill?" Oscar growled, clearly not happy.

  "No, sir," the bouncer said, his voice deep and feeling like a caress on my skin. "We were misinformed. The only individual with the mark on their skin at the address that was given for the female was the blonde."

  Sighing, Oscar leaned back in his chair. "That's a pity, I was really hoping I wouldn't have to breed with this one." He hooked a thumb in my direction letting his head fall back. "Maybe I can just have him inseminated."

  Oscar didn't see the man's face at his words because he was too busy pouting in his chair, and the actual bodyguard for the self-important man was standing just inside the door at the guys back, so he didn't see it either. But I was watching. I saw the absolute fury that crossed his features before disappearing.

  I wondered at that expression, watching his face carefully, but trying not to be too obvious. Of course, he caught me, eyes sliding my way and holding for a moment, before sliding back to the unpredictable man behind the big desk.

  Nobody said anything for a few moments, Oscar probably contemplating the many ways he could impregnate me without actually having to touch me, and the sexy man in black watching him closely, like he didn't trust him in the least.

  At least the man wasn't stupid. Nobody should ever Trust Oscar Burns. I'd been in on far too many meetings to not understand that. He was a snake.

  "Price," Oscar said suddenly, making me jump, even though that wasn't my name. "Take Bill and Kyle up to executive suit four. Make sure they have what they need for their charges and watch them. Make sure they don't steal anything. "

  Yeah, because I would even have the ability to stop them if they decided to, I thought, mentally rolling my eyes.

  "Okay, sir." I started to rise from the ridiculous kneeling position he always kept me in on the floor, but he grabbed my arm, stopping me, and probably leaving a few bruises.

  He smiled into my face, and it was an oily and disgusting sight, causing me to struggle not to shudder with revulsion. Hopefully he couldn't read it in my expression. "And don't forget what happens if you even think about getting away. Do I need to remind you?"

  Swallowing again, this time for an entirely different reason, I shook my head hard. Nearly rattling my own brain. "No sir, I remember."

  Taking the keycard Oscar handed me, I led the way out of the room, turning at the door to make sure both runners and all four of their charges were following behind. Again I met the eyes of the big man, this time closer due to the fact that he was standing directly behind me.

  I gasped, unable to believe just how dark his eyes were. They were deep and beautiful, and when he wasn't looking at Oscar with the same type of disdain I felt, they were actually kind of warm.

  And maybe that was why he felt so damn dangerous. A man who could treat other human beings the way he did wasn't warm.

  I turned around quickly, scampering a ways out in front of him, scared to actually engage with the man. Not a word was uttered as we moved down the hallway. When we entered the elevator, my heart raced as I stood by the consol.

  Somehow I just knew he was going to squeeze in behind me. I was shocked by his presence, but not surprised when I felt the warmth blanket me from behind. He was an imposing presence, and I had to physically grab the rail on the inside of the elevator to keep from leaning back into him.

  I was starting to be a little unnerved by the silence. In all the four other times I'd showed runners to their rooms, they had seemed to need to talk. Some commenting on the elegance of the hotel, some asking me disturbing questions about my preferences in bed. But this group didn't say a word, and as I glanced sideways, I even saw the other runner adjust the handcuff on one of the chosen's wrists, making sure to do it in a way that the camera in the corner didn't pick it up.

  Narrowing my eyes on the action, I caught the eye of the blond guy he was adjusting, and got a cold, assessing look in return, making me frown. Something wasn't right, and I was suddenly more nervous than ever to show these men to their room.

  Turning my head back to the front, I caught the reflection of the man standing behind me in the shiny metal of the car, and gasped again. His gaze was just so intense. It was like he was seeing right into my soul by way of the reflective finish of the inside of this elevator.

  I jumped when the door dinged and then started sliding open, nearly tripping when I tried to hurry off of the thing and away from the disturbingly nice presence of a man I knew to be a horrible person.

  A hand on my hip steadied me, and threw me for a loop at the same time. I had never in my life believed in the instant chemistry, or the sparks-when-you-touched BS talked about in movies or books until that moment. Right there in front of the elevator with a man who'd kidnapped innocent humans to make a dime.

  I was fucked up. I guess I didn't really need this situation to tell me that.

  Not looking back at the man, because I couldn't afford to fall into those deep pools of onyx again, I whispered a thank you, and straightened my back, leading the group off and to their room.

  My hand shook as I waved the keycard in front of the door lock. My dumb ass jumped again as the lock released, making a loud clunking noise.

  "Easy, sweets. Nobody is going to hurt you." The deep voice belonging to the gorgeous, terrifying man said into the back of my head.

  Oh fuck! He was standing so close.

  Twisting the knob, I practically fell inside the room, managing to grab the door to keep myself standing and not let the thing swing back and hit the man in the face. Though it would have served him right.

  The men filed in, and I watched as the two runners and two of the chosen immediately started looking around. The second to largest chosen reached a cuffed hand into his pocket and pulled out something that looked a lot like a smartphone, but not one I'd ever seen before.

  The other runner that wasn't the man crowding me and locking the door after closing it tightly, walked around the perimeter of the room with his own smartphone looking device, unplugging the landlines.

  I stood there, confused, trying to process what was happening, while still trying to keep my eyes from following the black-eyed man like a cat follows a laser pointer.

  "Nothing," the big guy with the smartphone said, putting it in his back pocket as he walked over to the two remaining chosen, grinning. "I'm thinking about leaving yours on, Little Shit. I'm still worried about waking up with duct tape stuck in my pubic hair."

  The blonde, who'd stared me down like he was trying to figure out what made me tick, raised his perfect eyebrows over his ice blue eyes. "If you think I can't properly use a roll of tape in handcuffs, then you sorely underestimate my abilities, Claus."

  "Oh, I never underestimate you. I know I risk my body every night I lie in bed with you."

  I gasped when the huge runner leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the smiling mouth of the chosen. They weren't acting like a captor and captee. They were acting like a couple.

  "What about him?" The other chosen who'd taken off, looking for unknown objects asked, nodding his head in my direction wh
ile taking the keys from the big man kissing on the other chosen. "Don't you think we should be a little more careful around Oscar's pet?"

  Taking a deep breath, I tried not to show how much his comment struck a nerve. After all, for all any of these people knew, I was Oscar's pet. And maybe I actually was. I surely jumped to attention any time he asked me to. They couldn't know that it killed me a little inside to know that I was probably stuck being his toy until he got sick of me and killed me.

  All I could do at this point was hope I found where they were keeping my everything before that time came.

  "He's the one I scented through the door, Foster," the deep voice that was like a carress all the way to my soul said, as the man once again invaded my space. "We can trust you, can't we, sweets?"

  Turning my head to look up into the man's nearly black eyes, I nodded, swallowing hard.

  He didn't smile, not really. It was more a ticking up of the corner of his mouth, but I somehow knew my answer pleased him.

  THE FOLLOWING HAS NOT BEEN PROPERLY EDITED YET!

  Corrupting Kross

  Chapter One

  I groaned as I looked around the group lounging on the dock, soaking up the early October sun. I didn't see Larrin among them, which meant I was going to have to engage. Conversations with this bunch never went well for me.

  I though of myself as a fairly patient person, but I don't even know if God himself would have the patience for what I and the other trainers referred to as them.

  Truthfully, Cast and Karney could probably be excused since they were the only ones capable of having a conversation that didn't end with me wanting to scoop-plop my own brain out with a ladle. But since they spent every moment of free-time with the other four, they got lumped in with the ridiculous monsters.

  I know they heard my footsteps as I stomped down the dock. I definitely wasn't trying to tiptoe. But not one of them even acknowledged my presence. Briec did, however, managed to glare at me with her eyes closed when I stood over her, blocking her sun.

  "Where is he?" I tried to sound nice. I really did. But I couldn't help it if the very existence of these people tended to make even my vocal cords vibrate with irritation.

  "Where is he, who?" Briec asked primly, her eyes still closed. "Capital H? He's all around, man."

  "Cast," I growled, knowing the rational member of the group was my only chance at getting a straight answer.

  His eyes popped open, and he jerked to a sitting position, like he though he was about to get in trouble for Briec's evil ways. "What do you want me to do?" He asked quickly. "I tried duct-taping her, but she chewed through it like a fucking pack rat. I think she swallowed some of it too. I caught her hacking up something disgusting afterward."

  "Nope," she said, smiling that terrifying smile that had the ability to make my skin actually crawl. "That was pieces of your tablet."

  Cast narrowed his eyes at the redhead. "See, I don't know if you're joking or not."

  "Where is Larrin?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose and begging for patience.

  "Why?" Martigan pushed his sunglasses up, his cool assessing gaze turned in my direction where his head lay on Briec's stomach.

  I sighed, digging my claws into my palm. "I just need to know where he is."

  "Are you going to yell at him?" He dropped the shades back in place and repositioned his head on Briec's stomach. Odd how she didn't get irritated with him when he was clearly going to leave a Martigan-head-sized tan-line right on her middle.

  "I don't know yet," I answered honestly through gritted teeth. "I guess that depends where he is."

  "Holy shit, guys!" A frazzled, still in his PJ pants and a white tank top Larrin came sprinting around the tree at the end of the dock. His pounding feet were moving far too fast, and he didn't seem to be slowing down as he approached us. He slammed on the brakes and came sliding by, his house-shoes doing very little to stop his forward momentum. "Alora's–– Kross!" he said, a split second after his body barely missed mine. And then his flimsy shoe caught on a board sticking up just a bit and dumped him straight into the Caribbean.

  "He's going to kill himself one of these days," I grumbled, moving to the ladder just in case he needed help.

  Larrin was such a strange contradiction that I'd spent far too much time over the last month and a half trying to figure out. He was athletic, his body not quite as big as mine, but still solidly built and fairly coordinated when it came to movement. He was tall at about 6'3, and by appearance alone, anyone would think he was made to be some kind of warrior or fighter. And he absolutely could be…if he wasn't distracted so easily.

  He was this perfect specimen of man. What every straight woman and gay man would want. But when asked to walk across a flat surface, he'd inevitably think of something he needed to tell you and try to walk sideways, backwards or in a circular pattern, tripping over his own feet and doing a backward somersault that somehow looked both ridiculous and perfectly executed.

  He popped out of the water spitting and gasping for air, his dark-brown hair looking almost black as he managed to come up out of the water like some kind of cover-model after almost drowning.

  How the hell did he always managed to look like a fucking fantasy, even while at his most ridiculous.

  His entire helpful friend-group was laughing their asses off, except for Karney, who was at least trying to hide his giggles behind his hand. Not one even bothered to move from their lounging to check and see if the idiot was alright.

  "Where are your glasses?" I asked dryly when he finally swam his way to the bottom of the ladder.

  That was another thing. The guy was one of the only immortals in the entire world that needed actual glasses. A mess up of otherwise perfect genetics that just so happened to be a kink I wasn't aware I had until I met him.

  "I have no idea," he said, climbing until he could reach my hand, and letting me pull him out. I stood him on the dock, careful not to let my hands linger too long. He shrugged, "I couldn't find them this morning."

  I choked off a groan as I watched the water run in rivulets down his sculpted arms and drip off the tips of his long, sexy fingers.

  Did I really just think he had sexy fingers?

  "I stole them," Martigan said, interrupting my less than wholesome thoughts. "You were trying to write love letters while you were drunk off your ass last night, so I sent you to take a shower and stole your glasses."

  I felt a growl bubbling up in my throat, threatening to spill out. "Love letters?"

  Larrin's eyes widened ridiculously. "Nothing!" he yelled a little too loud, scrambling over to his friend who was now holding up his glasses in his usual indifferent way, letting them balance on the finger of a hand that wasn't even raised in the air, just propped on the dock at the elbow.

  "Marti!" Young bellowed, throwing a hand to the sky for dramatic flair. "How dare you stomp on true love? Our boy has it bad." He sent a lascivious wink in Larrin's direction. "He needs to express his love in the written word. He wasn't going to send them."

  To who? Who the fuck is he writing love letters too?

  I glanced back at Larrin, taking in his flushed cheeks and the way his eyes were darting around, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. Glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, and then quickly looking back at Young, he pointed a finger at him and mimed bending someone over and shoving a foot up their ass. He also pretended to get the thing stuck and nearly fell back in the ocean with his theatrical display.

  My eyes kept moving over the now completely see-through white tank, drawn to the brown disks of his nipples and the delicious way it molded to every single divot of his well-trained body.

  "No," Martigan said, finally lifting his shades again. "He would have never had the balls––"

  "Hey!" Larrin said indignantly, grabbing the hem of his shirt, raising it just enough to display the bottom of those gorgeous, perfect abs. "I have balls! Big ones!"

  "––But the two twins of destruction and e
mbarrassment would have been all to happy to send it, and then we'd all have to deal with Larrin's dramatic mortification for weeks," Martigan continued.

  I needed to be looking away. I was bound to get caught gawking, but then Larrin whipped his shirt off in a huff, affording me the first ever look I'd gotten of his seriously sexy body. Seriously sexy. Like, melt your damn brain.

  "That was the plan." Young and Briec mumbled at the same time.

  I was having difficulty even understanding what they were talking about, or even what day it was as my eyes inventoried Larrin's body with far too much interest, especially when his chest muscles flexed…mmm…as he rung his sopping wet shirt out right over Briec and Young's heads.