Act of Brotherhood: Paranormal Security and Intelligence (PSI-Ops) an Immortal Ops World Novel

by Mandy M. Roth

  “Yes.” Her face reddened. “I mean no. I don’t want you to run into me again.”

  He watched her ardently, wanting to kiss her once more. She was so close that he could easily draw her against him and feather his lips over hers. The temptation was great. “I was hoping you’d say yes. It would mean I get to touch you again. And maybe I’d get to kiss you again. Of course, should anyone ask, it was me doing all the kissing. You weren’t part of it. I’ll keep your secret safe.”

  The thinnest of giggles came from her. “Okay, fine. I kissed you back. But I didn’t run into you first. I tried to step out of the way but you’re huge and take up a lot of space. Also, you’re not creepy when out here in the open. Avoid lurking by trees. It gives you an off-putting vibe. Oh, and watch where you’re going from now on,” she said, giving up on attempting to get all of the mess back onto the now very flat box. “If I could bake, this wouldn’t have been an issue at all. I could have made them myself. The kids are going to be disappointed. I promised them a treat for our celebration in the morning.”

  “Kids?” he asked, still bent with her. He didn’t know what she was jabbering about with the lurking-by-trees comment. He’d meant what he’d said. She was an odd woman. Frigging hot as hell, but very odd. He had his own fair share of quirks, so he wasn’t one to judge.

  They were drawing strange looks from those passing by, but Garth didn’t care. The others could just walk on by and leave him alone with the beauty. He was enjoying this magik moment far too much to worry about what the two of them looked like covered in cake.

  She smiled wider and the sight made his breath catch. Her face lit. How in the hell did the woman manage to become even sexier? If she kept it up, he’d not only be covered in cupcakes, he’d be covered in his own come. She had that kind of power over him. Enough to make him lose control of himself.

  “I teach preschool,” she declared. “The cupcakes are…were…for my class. I wanted to be sure everyone could have a treat even with their various allergies.”

  “Ah, so that’s why the cupcakes were made with nothing cupcake-y in them.” Garth put his hand out to the woman to help her stand. “It’s for the best they’re ruined. Those unfortunate children would have been forced to eat them. That would have been cruel and unusual punishment.”

  She grinned and took his hand. When he realized both of their hands were now covered in smashed baked goods, he snorted, amused with the entire situation far more than he should be. The woman noticed it too and gifted him the most precious-sounding laugh he’d ever heard. It actually made his chest tighten and his insides feel funny—light, airy even.

  “Yuck. I need to toss what’s left of these and wash up. My place isn’t far if you want to clean up as well,” she said—before going perfectly still. “Um, did I just invite you back to my place?”

  He nodded, really loving modern women. “You did.”

  “Huh. That’s a new one for me. Must be the accent. I like it. It’s very North Germanic.”

  “Good guess.”

  “I think its fulfilling my weird Viking fetish. You know my high school mascot was a Viking?” She winked. “How willing are you to wear a horned helmet and carry a sword?”

  Generally, Garth took offense to misconceptions about his ancestry—like horned helmets—but he’d wear whatever the hell she wanted him to wear. Case in point, he was currently wearing cupcakes—or something that was supposed to have been cupcakes. “I’m very willing. In fact, if all I’m required to be in is a horned helmet, and nothing else, I can guarantee my full participation.”

  The sultry smile that covered her face reached her eyes, making her look like a witchy minx. One he wanted with all he had.

  She kept her hand in his and frosting oozed out and onto the ground. It made an abnormal slapping sound and Garth stared down at it.

  “I really do not want to know what that was made of,” he said.

  She laughed again. “I’m Nicolette.”

  “Garth,” he said before winking back and releasing her hand. He didn’t want to lose contact with her but if he didn’t stop touching her soon, he’d likely shift forms and try to hump her leg or something.

  Just like he’d feared would happen while testing the serum.

  Whatever was in the shot was doing a number on him as it was. He didn’t need to do it any favors. The guys would never let him hear the end of it if he ended up in wolf form in the middle of Savannah, in a populated area with witnesses. He’d be Asshole of the Week for sure. Not to mention a clean-up team consisting of Fae would need to be called in to wipe the memories of the humans around him.

  Clean up the mess and do not turn hairy. Do not look at the way that shirt pulls at her breasts.

  He looked—and then chastised himself.

  Dammit.

  Garth took over picking up as much of the mess as he could. “Does the offer for me to get cleaned up still stand?”

  She looked him up and down and then tipped her head. The way she regarded him said she was lost in thought. For the briefest of moments, Garth could have sworn he felt something feather-like brush over his skin. He inhaled…and realized he was smelling a mix of vampire and Fae. The scent was gone before he could lock on to it.

  Supernaturals weren’t rare by any means, and it stood to reason there would be many in Savannah. The sun had set, so it was entirely possible vampires were in the area. Maybe even Fae.

  The strangest thing about the quick whiff of supernatural was that it made him think of both Landros and Auberi. Neither of them were in Savannah that Garth was aware of. As far as he knew, Auberi was still back at Division B Headquarters and, if memory served, Landros and his team were overseas.

  Not that it mattered. Neither vampire was one he wanted to be thinking about when he was standing face-to-face with a woman who had nearly brought him to his knees with just a kiss.

  Nicolette smiled. “The offer stands. You still willing to wear the helmet and carry a sword?”

  She was funny, and Garth liked that.

  “I’ve a massive sword collection at home. Wait. I shouldn’t have said that. My friend told me women will think I’m a homicidal maniac if I talk about my collection of weapons.”

  Nicolette’s eyes crinkled with mirth. “Well, I know you’re not one. I’m a really good read of people. Strangely though, my first read of you from before seems all wrong now. That doesn’t normally happen.”

  “Before?” he asked.

  “Yes. In the square. You know, when you were behind the tree. Right before you and Wheeler had a stare-off.”

  “Me and who?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”

  He lifted a brow, confused. Garth found himself reaching for her hand, wanting to make contact with her. He didn’t care that their hands looked like they’d spent the day murdering cakes. He didn’t even care that they both were wearing their fair share of the hipster cupcakes. He didn’t care about anything but this woman and getting to spend time near her.

  He tried to think about the last time he’d ever wanted anything beyond sex from a woman, and he came up blank. He didn’t converse with the women he bedded. He talked to them long enough to see if they wanted to fuck and that was it. He didn’t go to their homes, and they didn’t come to his. He paid for rooms at hotels and kept it all on neutral grounds. A lot of the men he knew did the same.

  Chapter Seven

  Nicolette could not stop stealing peeks at the hunk and a half walking beside her. How could she have read him so wrong to start with back in the square? She had to admit he looked even better with his hair down and out of the braid. She could have sworn he had a scar above his right eye, but she realized that she’d not been that close to him. It could have been a shadow she saw on his face.

  The man was tall, exceedingly handsome, had an accent to die for (even if it was at times hard to understand), and had taken the fact he was covered in cupcakes in stride. Not a lot of men would have been cool with that. S
he didn’t want to get ahead of herself, but she really hoped he was agreeing to go home with her for more than just cleaning up. From the moment they’d collided, she’d wanted the man.

  First, she’d heard a loud buzzing noise, and when that had cleared, she’d been able to really focus on him. The man was amazing. He was the type of guy who looked to have fallen out of a magazine full of hunky men. A guy who seemed like he’d fit better in the days of old. In fact, the first thing she’d imagined after they’d kissed was him dressed in historic warrior wear—just like a Viking. While he’d not had a horned helmet in her fleeting mental image, he did have a sword.

  Her gaze inched down him as they walked hand in hand, like they were a couple and had been for some time. As her focus settled on his groin, she gulped.

  Yeah, his sword was huge.

  A soft whisper of curses in French came from her. She was fluent in the language, and in Greek, thanks to her uncle. While Clara had no issues spitting out whatever word was on her mind, Nicolette much rather preferred to curse in another language. Somehow, that made it better in her mind.

  Garth snorted. “Interesting choice of words.”

  “You speak French?” she asked.

  “I do. Among other languages.”

  Of course he did. Could the man get any more perfect?

  Garth sent her hormones into overdrive. She wanted to throw caution to the wind, be wild, and take him home with her to do every naughty thing that was crossing her mind. Nicolette still couldn’t believe she’d actually blurted out the invitation not only to her home, but she was pretty sure to her pants as well.

  That wasn’t like her. She didn’t drag home strangers. She didn’t sleep with just any guy, either. She’d been with two men in her life. They’d been nice guys whom she’d felt something for; not love, but a lot of like. They’d been gentle lovers, taking their time with her, never demanding more than she was ready to give.

  Neither of the men had come equipped with what it looked like the tall blond stud was packing. Was that thing heavy to have hanging off him all day? It had to be. Did he walk with a limp because of it?

  Garth gave her hand the tiniest of squeezes and Nicolette’s attention snapped back to his face, only to find him grinning as if he’d totally figured out what had been on her mind.

  His groin.

  She’d have felt guilty, but she’d seen the way his gaze had lingered over her chest only moments prior. She wasn’t the only one who had been having dirty thoughts since they’d run into one another. Of that, she was sure.

  What she wasn’t sure of was whether he was coming home with her to only clean up or if he had read between the lines. If he got that she wanted to do far more than get cupcake off him.

  A whole lot more than that.

  This is stupid, she thought to herself, her pulse racing. I don’t know him. Sex drive, you need to stand down before you make me do something else boneheaded, like ask the guy to marry me or something.

  Her sex drive basically gave her the middle finger as her body heated at the thought of having the tall, delicious glass of water all to herself for the night. Where was a paper fan when she needed one? She’d seen more than one woman in the south with them at various times and had never understood the lure. She got it now.

  Hot.

  Super hot.

  And the source of the heat was standing beside her, still wearing that sexy, bad-boy grin. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he’d be amazing in bed.

  There was a certain level of reluctance born from the fact society frowned on this. Frowned on women giving in to their carnal needs and taking what they wanted when the situation presented itself. And she wanted him, with her, all night long.

  Society can suck it.

  She was going to take life by the balls and squeeze until it screamed for mercy. But she’d first make sure the hottie really wanted to come home with her for more than cleansing.

  Feeling bold, Nicolette stopped and faced him fully. She cleared her throat, hoping the words would come out properly and not in a jumbled mess of hormones. “Are you coming home with me for more than getting cupcake off you? I think we both know you have another shirt and must have changed somewhere close before.”

  “You’re very odd.”

  “You said that before,” she returned, loving the sound of his deep voice. The accent had sealed the deal. It was sexy as could be. So was he.

  The enticing look on his face didn’t answer her question.

  “Well, are you coming home with me for more than getting cleaned up or not?” she repeated, needing to hear his answer.

  “I should say no,” he said, his voice even.

  Her state of horny liberation deflated instantly. Who was she kidding? Mild-mannered preschool teachers did not walk into godlike studs and find themselves naked and in the throes of passion all in the span of an hour. That kind of thing only happened in the romantic films she enjoyed so much. Not in real life. And not to her.

  Garth’s free hand found her chin and he eased her gaze up, leaving them looking into one another’s eyes. “But saying no would be a lie. I very much want to go home with you for more than cleaning up. Much more. Have you changed your mind about taking me with you now?”

  Wowzer, it’s totally happening to me.

  She smiled—and froze.

  Ohmygod, it’s happening.

  What should she do now? How did one react in a situation like this? Should she play it cool and act aloof? Jump up and down like she wanted to? Say thanks? She deliberated another second before grinning and deciding that she only lived once, might as well make the most of it. It was time to own her sexuality and her desires.

  She was an adult woman. There was no shame in wanting the man.

  “I was hoping we were on the same page because I really want to see you naked,” she said with a grin. “You remind me of a guy I saw in a movie recently, and let me just say, I promised myself I’d order a dozen if I ever spotted a guy who looked that good. You should know, after seeing you, I’d like to order two dozen.”

  He looked thrilled by the direction the talk was going.

  Good.

  Clara would have a field day when she heard about this. Of course, she’d also lecture Nicolette about the dangers of bringing home a man she didn’t know. After she was done citing all the reasons why it was bad, she’d then demand to know how the sex was. Clara was full of interesting quirks like that.

  Nicolette hadn’t even gotten to the sex part yet but suspected it would be amazing. Not that it would take much to beat the short list of bed partners she had.

  “Your cheeks are flushed,” said Garth as he grinned down at her. The suggestive look on his face only served to make her redden more. “You should know, I very much want to see you naked, too.”

  “Oh good,” she said, and then wanted it back. Normally, she didn’t have any issues interacting with others. She also didn’t picture others naked, so there was that. “I mean, well, let’s go home and do it.”

  “It?” he questioned, still grinning.

  She cringed at her nerves and her hormones. Any second her ovaries were going to completely take over her thought processes and she’d either dive into a giant tub of chocolate or toss Garth to the ground and not let him up until she’d had her way with him.

  Either option was a win.

  Stupid sex drive.

  She took another deep breath. “Do you want to come home with me and have sex or not?”

  Garth tipped his head back, looked up at the night sky and smiled. “Odin, I really fucking love modern women.”

  A giggle came from her, and she found herself stepping closer to him, liking being in contact with him. As she touched him fully, the back of her neck began to tingle. It was a warning.

  Danger.

  For the briefest of moments, she worried that her gut had changed its mind from her read of Garth—again. That suddenly he wasn’t safe. That her first reaction to him in the squa
re was the accurate read. The idea of running back to the bakery came, in hopes Wheeler was still there, but it was fleeting.

  The urge to look behind her was great. She gave in to the pull and glanced over her shoulder at the darkened area between two large homes. It felt as if a massive predator was there, wanting to strike.

  Something was there for sure. What? She didn’t know.

  “Nicolette?” asked Garth, before he sniffed the air and jerked slightly. He yanked on her, leaving her sandwiched against him in much the same fashion she’d been when they’d first collided.

  Air swooshed from her lungs. “Ouch.”

  He eased his grip, but kept her close all the same, his attention going to the very spot she’d felt danger emanating from. “Nicolette, how far is your home from here?”

  “It’s one block down, why?” she questioned, trying to look at the darkened area again.

  Garth took hold of her upper arms gently, yet firm enough to gather her full attention. “Go straight there. Do not stop. Do you understand me?”

  He was the second man in the same night to show extreme concern for her getting home safe and sound. She was beginning to wonder if an alert had gone out to all the hot guys in the surrounding area, letting them know she was unsupervised with Clara out of town and in danger of forgetting where she lived.

  She nearly joked about as much but stopped. A sinking feeling came over her. Deep down, she knew if she and Garth separated, something bad was going to happen to him. She didn’t know what or when, but she did know for certain it would end poorly for the man.

  She barely knew the guy, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t want him hurt. Not if she could prevent it.

  Her uncle’s words about always heeding her inner warnings played loudly in her head. Even Clara thought there was something to Nicolette’s gut feelings. She, too, always encouraged Nicolette to listen to them. The reminders repeated again and again, until she had no choice but to acknowledge and accept them, regardless of how odd it made her seem. Heck. Garth already thought she was missing a few screws. What was one more?