by A D Seeley
No! He wasn’t just going to come in here acting all sweet and having it work on her. She was sick of him playing with her. Did he really think it would work?
“Well too bad you came all this way for nothing,” she said, letting an edge creep into her words that had never before been present.
Anger welled up in his black pits for eyes for a moment. An anger that was hidden so quickly that she wasn’t sure whether or not it had really ever been present. But, if it had, it was an anger that scared her. A primeval rage she had never seen before. Not even in the man’s eyes who had mugged her and Eric….
“Now you’ll have to excuse me,” she said, pushing down her icy fear and turning back to her job. “I have work to do. You can leave now.”
Inac didn’t say a word before she heard him turn and leave. Once he was gone, she let out a shaky breath.
“Girl, I cannot believe you just yelled at the boss-man like that,” Crystal said, approval radiating from her eyes.
“I know. He just…. Ugh! He’s just so frustrating!”
“That’s what happens when you fall for someone.”
Shooting her friend a look that she knew would scream of her annoyance, she said, “I don’t even know him.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t want to get to know him.” Hara couldn’t help but laugh at that. Leave it to Crystal to cheer her up.
“Come on,” she said, eager to change the subject, “let’s finish this so we can go home.”
Most everyone had walked off after the show had ended, all shaking their heads in wonder while mumbling under their breath. Besides Crystal, the only one still right there was Tracker.
She looked over at him, giving her old friend a small smile. Usually Track would’ve smiled back, but tonight—or really this morning—he just looked at her with worry all over his face. And not just worry that her heart would get stomped on, but a real, tangible worry and fear for her life. He looked as though that icy fear she’d felt momentarily had left her and gone into him. He was scared to death.
She looked down at the barstool she was placing on the bar, trying to think of what to ask him to get him to tell her the truth about what was going on with him, but when she looked back up, he was gone.
***
Inac walked into his apartment, throwing his keys in the little steel key tray on the rectangular glass and steel entryway table. His apartment was large and cold; all metal, concrete, and glass. That’s what he loved about it.
It was minimally furnished in blacks and grays, not a friendly touch in sight. If Hara ever saw it, she would probably say that sentimentality was lost on him; that he was as cold as the dark gray shiny concrete flooring. He would agree with her. The only sentimental items he owned were in the vault the size of two apartments hidden behind a Jackson Pollock painting. In it he kept things from every life he’d lived that he wanted kept safe and private. Most items were small—like the swords he’d carried in each life he’d been a warrior. But others—paintings and other artwork—were larger.
Historians would have a heart attack seeing that room, for it held so many precious items. In there, he had the real spear that had pierced Christ’s side, not the fake Spear of Destiny that had floated around for years. He also had the sword that had started the mythology surrounding Excalibur. That sword, which had been before its time, he had forged himself with ingredients and methods of working the metal that nobody but him knew, even to this day. With it, he had felled many a man. So many, in fact, that it had become a legend itself from the fear its very name instilled in all who heard it. Only later did it somehow get mashed into the stories of Merlin and King Arthur, morphing from a symbol of terror into one of hope.
The vault held so many invaluable objects that would be worth a lot of money. He didn’t care about the money, though. What he cared about were the memories that came with each item. Underneath his tough exterior was a surprisingly sentimental fool.
He wouldn’t usually call himself a fool, but he’d obviously done something wrong with Hara. She was going to be more difficult than he’d thought. When he’d gone to pick her up to take her to an early breakfast, he’d been cocky; so sure that she would jump at the chance. But she hadn’t.
He was sure that that was the first time she’d ever felt anger in her life, so he couldn’t blame her for not knowing how to control it. He didn’t even know how to control his all the time, and he’d been working on it for millennia. Luckily, he’d controlled it this morning. If he hadn’t, he would have broken her pretty little neck right there in front of everyone.
However, at the same time that he was thinking of ways that he could kill her, he was also silently impressed. He hadn’t thought she had that in her. She was the first person he’d ever met who had the guts to yell at him.
Instead of yelling back at her like he’d wanted to do, he had become gentle, watching as her anger slowly began to dissipate. But still, she’d have nothing of it. He was proud of her for finding her inner hostility. And the fact that he was the one to bring it out of her had only proven to him that she felt strongly for him. They would probably have a lot of passion. Now he just needed to get her in a situation where he could harness that passion for his own taking so that he could kill her and move on to something else more gratifying.
Chapter Eight
***
“Hara? Can I talk to you for a minute?” Professor Sampson called as she was making her way down the steps of her classroom’s amphitheater.
She really didn’t want to talk to him because she hadn’t yet been to sleep since work last night and, quite frankly, she was exhausted. She was going to be smart fall semester and not schedule any classes for Monday mornings.
“What can I do for you, Professor?”
“I heard that you were writing your paper on the Mokolios?” he said, his thick sandy eyebrows drawn tight in worry. It was the first time she’d ever noticed that his light chocolate eyes had the same warm undertones as his hair.
“Is that a problem?”
“No. Not if you can find enough information about them to write an entire paper. Are you finding information okay?”
She sighed. She’d searched the library and Internet what felt like a hundred times over. “Not really. But I figure if their mark is all over history then I should be able to find something.”
“And your mind is set?” he asked, looking her directly in the eye as though this was a matter of grave importance.
She nodded.
“Okay. Perhaps this book will help you some,” he said, pulling out and handing her a thick brown leather-bound book that looked and smelled positively ancient.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” she said as she delicately ran a finger along its cover, which had the Mokolios’ insignia branded into it. Suddenly, the gore had her praying that the book wasn’t made of human skin. The thought had her quickly pulling her finger away. To cover her unease before Professor Sampson noticed it, she said, “I’d probably ruin it.”
“Are you sure? It has the most information regarding that sect that I’ve ever found. Besides, it’s survived a few hundred years. I’m sure it will survive a few more,” he said, throwing her a boyish grin that she couldn’t help but return.
“I’m sure,” she told him, no longer creeping herself out. “Thank you, though. It’s really very kind of you.”
He nodded and set the book back down on his desk. Again, she was surprised at how young he was. Not even the nice shirt and tie he wore could make him look older.
“Well, if you change your mind…” he said, his tone kind.
“Thanks, Professor. I appreciate it.”
He just continued smiling as he nodded. She could tell that he was disappointed. He’d obviously really wanted her to take him up on his offer. Come to think of it, he acted very fatherly toward her compared to his other students. Crystal would probably say that he had a crush on her, but Hara knew differently. Professor Sampson treated her the same way Father Carrol
l did.
She walked down the hall and outside, still thinking about Professor Sampson’s kind offer.
“Hey,” a voice said from behind her, scaring her out of her thoughts.
She looked behind her to find Tracker walking up to her, pulling his pants up because they were too baggy around his waist. She would never understand boys who wore pants too large for them. Tracker said he just wore what “all skaters wore,” but, as far as she knew, he hadn’t skateboarded in years.
“Sorry I’m late,” she told him. “Professor Sampson stopped me to talk about my paper.”
“I like him,” he said. “He’s a good professor.”
“Yeah, he is,” she said, looking sideways at him. Tracker hadn’t ever taken a class from Professor Sampson, so how would he know that he was a good professor?
She didn’t get to ask him before he said, “You should listen to him. He knows what he’s talking about.”
It was such an odd thing to say that she stopped dead in her tracks.
“What’s wrong?” Tracker asked, stopping a few steps in front of her when he finally seemed to realize that she was no longer beside him.
“I just….” For some reason, she couldn’t help but think about Saturday morning when Inac had come to the club. Track had been acting weird then too. “Track? Do you remember when Inac came by the club?”
Just as she’d thought, open hostility took over Tracker’s features.
“Yeah. What about it?” he asked, his blue eyes sharpening into silver razorblades.
“You looked scared of something.”
“So?”
“Why don’t you like Inac?” she asked as delicately as possible.
“Because he’s not a good person, Hara. You shouldn’t get involved with him.”
She couldn’t help but feel her own rising anger, her face becoming hot as its pressure climbed.
“You don’t even know him. How can you say that he’s not a good person?”
“Because he isn’t.”
Before her anger could reach the peak it had with Inac, she said, “Whatever. I have to go home. I’ll talk to you later.”
Tracker didn’t say a word as he watched her get into her car. After she closed the door and rolled down the window because it was blazing and the air conditioning didn’t work, he leaned in.
“I mean it, Hara,” he said, one hand on the window frame. “Mr. Adamson’s bad news. I’ll prove it to you when I can.”
She ignored him as she pulled out. Sometimes he could be such a child.
***
Hara pulled into her parking space at home. It was now Thursday and she still hadn’t turned much up in the library regarding the Mokolios—she’d given up on the Internet; it was like someone with access was making anything other than basic facts about them disappear the moment it was posted or something. Not to say she had any proof anything other than that had been on the Internet in the first place, but if they were that powerful, then it had to be.
Maybe her professor was right and she should borrow his book. Really, with how top secret they really did seem to be, she wasn’t sure how Professor Sampson had even come across the book, or why he had thrown them into the curriculum in the first place. Ugh, she couldn’t think of it just now. Once she got up to her apartment, she only had a couple of hours to get a huge list of things done before her study group came over.
She climbed the stairs, silently whining about all she had to do. Next summer, she wasn’t going to take any classes at all. It just wiped her out too much to work the crazy hours she did plus be a full-time student all year long.
When she got to the last flight of stairs, she found Inac patiently stooped on the top stair in his usual slightly baggy dark jeans and T-shirt that was tight around his arms and chest, but loose at his waist. He really looked good in them, too….
“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to keep an edge out of her voice even though she felt herself softening with how hot he looked. She hadn’t seen him since yelling at him. Not to say that she hadn’t obsessed over him, though….
“I wanted to come and say sorry,” he said with a humble smile. She hadn’t realized that he could feel that emotion.
“Well, now you did,” she said as she pushed past him to her door. She had to stay strong. It seemed that she always sinned when he was around. He just aggravated her so.
He put a gentle hand around her bicep, shooting fire into her with it. She was going to collapse into his arms and beg him to kiss her if she wasn’t careful….
To right herself, she grabbed her cross in one hand and turned to meet his gaze. If anything could keep her thoughts nice and pure, it would be her beloved cross.
“Please accept my apology,” he said, holding out a bundle of pink, freshly picked lilies with his heavily tattooed right arm. Lilies with dirty roots still attached that also looked strangely familiar….
“Where’d you get those?” she asked suspiciously.
He smiled; that charming wicked grin of his. “Downstairs.”
She didn’t know why she laughed at him picking the landlord’s flowers, but she couldn’t help it. Maybe it was because he was so unapologetic. In any case, it achieved what he’d probably picked them for; she was no longer angry.
“Thanks,” she said as she took them from him, holding them out so the dangling roots wouldn’t dirty her clothes and skin. “I’m sorry too for, well, you know….”
“For acting like a crazed lunatic?” he asked, his rakish grin widening.
She laughed again. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“That’s okay. I can understand why you would get so angry.”
“Really?” She looked deep into his eyes. They were still black, but they sparkled today. At least he finally seemed to be feeling some emotion….
“Really. I tend to bring out the worst in people.” How he said it made her wonder if he actually thought that to be a bad thing. It was like he prided himself in being able to get such a rise out of people. “So, now that we’ve kissed and made up, how about I take you out to dinner?”
She almost pointed out that they hadn’t kissed, but was nervous that he’d take it as an invitation. Actually, now that she thought about it, she realized that he had probably said it so he could kiss her.
Ugh! Why did his personality have to be so up and down? So today he was sweet and sexy Inac? And after they kissed, he’d be back to the angry and broody Inac?
“Um…huh?” she asked once she realized that he had asked her a question. Her mind hadn’t listened past the word “kiss” because she’d been too busy thinking about just that.
“Dinner? You know? Food?”
“You want to take me out to dinner?” she asked, trying to make sure that she understood.
He laughed before chucking under her chin with a finger, sending sizzles throughout her body. “Yeah. I mean, I know you’re skinny, but you do eat, don’t you?”
“Yeah…?”
“So would you like to accompany me to dinner?”
“Right now?”
“Yeah.” He was laughing at her, which was in turn charming her.
“Sure…. I mean, no. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Her brain finally thinking clearly, she said, “Because I have a lot I have to do. I’ve been trying to do research for a paper but haven’t been able to turn much up. I have to find something or I’ll have to change my topic, but I really wanna do it on the Mokolios.”
His eyes momentarily widened in surprise before he asked, “You’re doing a paper on the Noseriatif Tremokolios?”
Now was her turn to be surprised. “You’ve heard of them?”
“Yeah. I know a lot about them. More than you’ll ever find in a book.”
“But how? They’re super secretive.”
He threw her a daredevil smile. “Maybe I am one.”
She pushed his chest lightly—a part of her registering and beginning to fantasize about how hard it felt
under her hand—as she sarcastically stated, “Yeah. Funny.”
He shrugged, not even flinching in pain though she’d accidentally pushed close to his gunshot wound. He must be a good healer. She didn’t know how long it would take to heal from a gunshot wound, but the fact that she could still see the outline of his bandage under his T-shirt, as well as she could see a corner of it taped at his neck, told her he still wasn’t all the way healed yet.
“Okay. Let’s just say that my work tends to be with members of that particular organization,” he told her.
“Really?” She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
“Really.”
“But how would you know that they were even a part of it? I was told that they really like their privacy. They aren’t even on the Internet.”
“Well,” he said, rubbing his square jaw, “the Adamson family has been a part of it since it began. In fact, it was an Adamson who founded it. Of course, that wasn’t the name back then. It was way before last names came about. Perhaps you’ve heard of my ancestor? He’s best known as Sargon of Akkad, or Sargon the Great. He was the first ruler to create a true empire backed by armies. Or, at least the first to really be known for it. Really, he took over for an ancestor of his, though history doesn’t tell you that they were related. That particular king was named Lugal-Zage-Si.” With a proud grin, he added, “But back to the story. When Sargon the Great took over for Lugal-Zage-Si, he came up with the brilliant idea of the Mokolios. I have numerous great warriors in my family tree.”
She could tell he wasn’t joking. He wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he was mostly telling the truth.
“Are you really part of it?”
His gaze said yes. His mouth said, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” It was obvious that he was using the clichéd line to get her to laugh and not take him seriously, but his eyes were serious. Your mouth could lie; but your eyes couldn’t do so as easily.