“Give it a rest, Phranq. You don’t want to mess with her.”
“What is it with you?” Ella slid off the barstool and faced Eli. “Isn’t there somewhere else for you to go?”
Her brother caught the bartender’s watchful eye. “Let me have another antidote.” Then, he grinned and turned in his seat to face her. “Nope. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
“Is this guy bugging you?” Phranq bunched the muscles in his neck and shoulders, then shook his short horns at Eli.
Ella said yes the same moment Eli said no.
Phranq shrugged and lumbered back to his stool, mumbling something about airheaded Trolls.
Positive that each of her freckles was a tiny sunburst on a pale backdrop, Ella gritted her teeth and lifted her hand to see the stopwatch. Crap.
“Time, people.” She clicked the stopwatch button and grabbed the clipboard from the bar counter. Listening to her brother’s inane drivel ran her two minutes over. “Be sure to see me if you want to sign up for another session.”
Al’s tall figure loitered head and shoulders above the crowd, making him easy to spot within the milling attendees. As if he felt her eyes on him, he smiled and gave Ella a jaunty salute, winking in the process.
His damn wink scrubbed at her raw patience. No doubt he’s thinking of collecting his debt, the arrogant ass. Somehow, the thought of how he would recoup made her body grow warm and she flexed her inner thigh muscles.
No sex—that’s what she’d told him.
But why not? her libido countered.
Females buzzed around Al as if they were mosquitoes and he the only blood source. They fawned over one another to catch his attention. An aggressive Satyr stood on a chair to gain advantage above the others, flashing blood-red painted hooves at any female unlucky enough to come close. Even with the added height, the nanny barely reached Al’s chest.
Ella glanced at the departing crowd and took note of a viable fact—the only race in scarce attendance tonight?
Trolls.
A cold reminder of how the mythic kingdom viewed her people.
*~*~*
“Oooh, Kempor Aleksander. Your arms are so big.”
“Yes, thank you—”
“I’ll be your date tonight!”
“Choose me, and you’ll never look at another female again,” a little Satyr who’d jumped up on a vacated chair, shouted.
Surprised at her outlandish boast, Alek gaped at her. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
She beamed in return, clearly not following his two-fold message.
The sea of coy fluttering lashes, fake smiles, and overly bright eyes repelled him faster than a strip teasing Minotaur. Male or female, the bovines made excellent soldiers. Dancers . . . they were not.
All that aside, Alek wasn’t interested in the same old take-out menu.
Ignoring the plumped-up breasts displayed in come-and-get-me form, he searched the thinning crowd for a familiar red head—and found her taking names on that infernal clipboard, near the front door. Anger curled low in his belly when he noted her small hand pushing away the same dirty Minotaur male who’d bothered her at the bar.
Ella stepped away, only to have the Minotaur shadow her movement.
“Excuse me, ladies. I have your names, so I’ll bid each of you safe journey tonight.” Alek dodged the groping hands that patted his firm hindquarters.
The Satyr girl tried to cup him below as her doe eyes gleamed mischief in brown seduction, bleated a heated proposal in low tones.
I’ve lost my fucking mind if I walk away from the offer of three females in a bed, to rescue a Troll who waves her dislike for me like a red flag.
His four legs moved of their own accord. The throng of milling speed daters, parted to give him a direct path.
Insane—or perhaps wholly in his right mind—the element of Aleksander’s soldier nature, led him to protect the scowling Ella.
Four
Eli frowned at the rosy glow that slowly spread over his sister’s beautiful face. While she never considered herself anything but butt-ugly, he knew otherwise. He constantly watched Ella turn male heads wherever she went, oblivious to the attention.
Tonight was no different, but for one exception. This time someone had caught her eye as well. Damn you, Mother, for treating Ella this way.
Kempor Aleksander wasn’t a match he’d have picked for his sister, not with the soldier’s sterling reputation of love ‘em and leave ‘em. Built for battle and married to his royal duties, the old warhorse would never honor a commitment to a female. Old…being the operative word—this male must’ve seen at least two centuries worth of winters.
Eli wished he had the gift of reading auras. He’d read the Centaur’s intent in a flash.
Ella lifted the book bag strap to settle over her shoulder while she wore a dreamy smile.
He shook his head. The giant carrier made her ass look two axe handles wide.
A few participants of her idiotic speed-dating event stood huddled in small groups, while others exited the café to join evening foot traffic in the palace mall.
Too bad Ella’s sweet spot was about to be invaded by a thickheaded Minotaur who dogged her steps.
Eli tossed back the last of his drink. The glass clinked softly as he placed it on the bar. “Ella, make sure you go straight home.”
Last thing Eli wanted was his sister caught in any underworld crossfire because, the gods knew, the dirty came out at night to play.
Too many things had gone wrong in rebel operations over the past year. Failed missions, operatives killed—with the problems all pointing to chaos in the upper level. Violence and betrayal hid behind every boulder in the kingdom.
And his sister had no idea any of it existed. I’d keep you from it if I could, Sis. Other than his primary contact, no one, not even his family, knew what he did to protect the kingdom. It was safer for everyone this way.
Ella paused beside him. Her wistful expression disappeared, replaced by a hateful sneer. “And if I don’t, are you going to run home and tell on me like a good mama’s boy?”
A thousand retorts leapt forward. He clenched his jaw and let them dog pile behind gritted teeth. Too many years of getting the sharp end of the stick, Ella’s calloused hide wouldn’t listen. He’d have to follow her part-way home and make sure she arrived safely.
Gods…it pained him to know she blamed him for the way their parents fawned over him. Eli couldn’t blame her. Didn’t matter if he disliked it as much as her, nothing changed their lopsided minds. Despite the way she was treated, she’d done well for herself.
Sadness sank heavy in his chest knowing she did this to raise money and leave home. Shit, he wished he could let loose his secret.
His Minotaur companion refused to let up and continued to blow in Ella’s ear.
Eli’s irritation grew. “Phranq, do me a favor. Back off my sister.”
The lines bracketing Ella’s mouth softened, and her eyes flashed with less fury. Even so, without a word she resumed her stride and headed for the door.
He slid off his stool and threw some money on the counter, then nodded at Spike.
The bull’s idea of backing off wasn’t in the same playbook as his. The Minotaur’s tongue remained in licking distance of her exposed neck.
The close proximity and disgusting lick position just pissed Eli off. He tried to disguise his annoyance in front of the others by shoving his hands down his front pockets.
As Phranq followed Ella, Eli followed Phranq. And the whole while, the Kempor’s eyes burned holes in the back of Eli’s head.
That’s right, buddy. Keep your eyes on me and not my sister.
No way in hell would Eli allow Phranq to get his hands on her. But as long as she worried he would, her mind wasn’t on the queen’s top man. Eli glanced over his shoulder. The same operate whose experienced eyes sized up the situation and deepened the scowl across his forehead.
Not waiting to find out if the Kempor’s
etched lines were permanently engraved, Eli let the café door swing closed behind him.
Cool air flowed from the public opening at the cavern’s mouth, bringing with it a hint of rain. Embedded glow stones in the ceiling and walls did little for lighting a tunnel large enough to drive a semi-truck through.
Calling up his Troll eyesight, the dark interior brightened.
Ten Centaur lengths ahead, Ella held her head high and did her best to ignore the bothersome Phranq. She marched out of the palace with arms swinging in time to her step. Mom’s last year hand-me-down dress hung like baggy overalls on her and made a hideous statements about her nice figure.
It didn’t seem to turn Phranq off. In fact, his skinny tail lifted in the air, indicating his bovine interest.
Eli took that as his cue to speed up and intercede outside the cavern.
“Ever see the stars from the boulders at the waterfall?” Phranq moved to place a beefy arm around Ella’s shoulders.
“Not lately.” Ella sidestepped the hairy arm and the accompanying malodorous armpit.
“Then let’s go.” Phranq grabbed her hand and tugged to the right, opposite the direction from their parent’s home. The bull encountered no problem in dragging Eli’s unwilling sister over a rise in the topography.
“Come on, Phranq.” Eli caught up with them and laid his hand on the Minotaur’s shoulder, feeling the strength flex beneath. “We’ve got work to do.”
Ella jerked back her arm, but the action didn’t break Phranq’s shackling grip. “You idiot.” She yanked again. “You can’t see the stars tonight. It’s raining.”
Phranq gave a deep chuckle and shook his horned head. “Who said anything about stargazing?”
“You did.” Eli and Ella shouted at the same time.
The last thing Eli wanted was to piss off Phranq. He needed to keep a close eye on him, since the Minotaur was the only mythological he’d met who claimed close ties to the rebellion leaders. And he wanted to meet the heads in charge. It could be all crap talk, but no way to know until it played out. Then, he could judge whether the idiot Minotaur knew anything or not.
Eli wrapped his palm around Ella’s free wrist and gently pulled her toward him. “Save it for another time. Let’s walk her home and not be late.”
“Let go of me.” Ella dug her low, square heels into the dampened earth and pulled to retrieve her arms, little good it did her. “I’m not going anywhere with either of you goons.”
Drizzle fell at a steadier rate. Large drops tumbled from branches as a breeze shook the water loose. The book bag slid off her shoulder, taking a dress strap with it. Droplets stuck in her lashes and no amount of fluttering would blink them away.
Pulled in two directions like a trollish rag doll, Ella screamed her frustration.
*~*~*
“Hello, Sweet-thing. Need a little help?”
The sight of Ella stretched between two males, sent a confusing slash of alarm down Alek’s elongated spine. I’m responsible for all Boronda dwellers, not just this cute Troll. That’s the reason why I’m here. Right?
When he made his quick exit from the café, he’d trusted his hunch correctly. Common sense told him Ella wasn’t the late-night partying type.
“She’s fine,” the Minotaur said, and tugged her closer. “Bug off.”
“Ow, you’re hurting me. Let go.”
The male Troll lowered his voice. “Phranq. Keep your mind on track. Let’s go.”
On track for what? Alek used the moment of distraction to move two hoofsteps closer.
The Troll dropped Ella’s wrist and turned to face him straight on…and that’s when the vague prickle of recognition knocked on his brain.
The manner in which the gnome kept a sharp watch around him, matched the behavior of a certain suspect Centaur patrols tailed the previous day. Height and description fit as well. If the Troll were one and the same, Alek would do well to gather intel.
Behind him, leaves crunched a two-beat step on the trail. The footfalls were light, but not trying to hide an arrival.
“Oh wow. Is this an after-hours party? ‘Cause I’m totally up for that.” Carryyn’s wide, flat-lipped smile flashed at the group.
The effect of her salacious grin seemed to crawl right up Alek’s neck.
Phranq didn’t seem to notice Ella, wrestling in his grip; his gaze had zeroed-in on the jiggling mounds below her neck.
“Ella, come here.” With a practiced eye, Alek measured the space and angled slope between them. Then, adjusted his stance should he need to cover the distance. The ambient weather conditions held steady—he hoped they’d stay that way.
“Oh, leave her alone. She’s got her own party going.” Carryyn shook her horns so the rings circled and clanged together.
It reminded Alek of some damned wind chimes. He hated wind chimes.
Carryyn reached for the crook of his arm. “Forget her. You and I can—”
“Piss-off, Centaur.” Phranq narrowed his gaze and switched his focus to the object of his irritation. “I think my little Troll is happy where she is.”
“I’m not happy anywhere with you. Let go, you bovine idiot.”
How easy it’d be to turn his hooves around, retrace the path to the barracks, and find a good game of pool. The dial of his watch glowed, telling him how little time remained before duty called. There was always the Shenandoah, a meat market bar where his buddies and easy females of all species hung out.
Didn’t matter, human or mythic. Women love men in uniform.
So why am I rescuing a cranky Troll?
Never in a hundred years would he understand what in kolasi compelled him to leave a perfectly good beer, in a perfectly good bar, to shadow bad guy rebels in order to save Ella from potential harm.
Potential hell is more like it.
From the moment he crashed into Ella, everything inside him said to “intervene” in big block letters. Sure, she hated his guts on sight, and made sure he knew it. But, had he not been able to rectify her problem and take care of the glitch in seating, she might be indebted to some other male—and that would never do.
So here he was.
Gamóto. Dammit.
Alek took a step forward. “You heard the lady. Let her go, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”
His hand swept to his hip where his sword hung. However, because he was off duty, he’d left it hanging on the bedpost. No matter, the tactical vest he wore stored Chinese throwing stars, of which he ranked marksman in accuracy.
The quad of Minotaurs and Trolls faced off, each looking to fill their own agenda.
Next to Alek, stroking his arm, Carryyn made it clear she preferred him on her agenda.
Not freaking likely.
Cold rain fell. It pelted in bullet-sized drops, stinging from the force and chilling to the bone. Alek shook his head, flinging water from his short hair. “This is insane,” he said. “Let Ella go.”
Not sure why he felt the need to protect the prickly Troll, and she sure as shit didn’t want him around, it became a matter of ethics. Centaur honor was at stake.
Phranq’s jaw firmed up. “What you don’t seem to understand, mule head, is not everybody follows orders they’re given. Especially from someone like you.”
This was worse than insane. It was dangerously crazy—Ella heading off into the night, and the mooncalf Minotaur facilitating the trip.
“You know this is wrong,” Alek retorted. Even his mare mother would see how wrong it was to allow Ella anywhere near those two males. This included Carryyn for that matter. Alek didn’t buy for a mythic minute the damn speed dates had anything to do with this late night rendezvous.
No. This disaster in the making had the stench of rebel sprayed all over it.
The tight smile Phranq threw his way made it clear: the quicker Aleksander shit or got off the pot, the better. Unfortunately, given the SNAFU, Alek could see the odds headed exactly where the bull wanted them to go.
Or not.
&nbs
p; He glanced at Ella again.
This time, she was looking back, her wide green eyes fastened to his.
A bewildering tremor of something or another skittered through him, hitting places he was trained to ignore. Only, he couldn’t push the feeling aside. He was the professional here, the highest-ranking soldier on Her Majesty’s royal payroll. The guy they called when others didn’t get the job done.
Taking charge is what Aleksander did for a living—and he was damn good at it.
Five
If Ella hadn't been wet and getting muddier by the minute, she'd be as cold and hard as the glint in Aleksander Hedson's eye. She pulled her arms to free them, but Phranq and Eli insisted on fighting over her like two puppies with a prize.
From her unwanted vantage point, she watched Al's lips press thin.
Rain dripped off his nose and chin. He didn't look friendly at all. In fact, he looked downright menacing.
Ella didn't blame him. She wasn't feeling all warm and fuzzy with the situation, either. Shaking back drenched strands of hair that stuck to her cheeks, she licked water off her upper lip and let it warm on her tongue.
Al looked good soaking wet.
Damn good.
His lean fingers casually reached into one of the many pockets of his padded brown vest.
“Keep your hands where I can see ‘em,” the Minotaur warned as he dragged her closer, pulling her easily from Eli's desperate hold.
Phranq then tightened his bone-shattering grip that would leave bruises for days.
The bull’s reading came easily to Ella. Deceptive shades of brown packed his aura to overflowing. Spots of dark blue—suspicion—mottled through the churning sludge.
“Phranq, don't do this. It's not worth it,” Eli spoke low.
It's not worth it, or I'm not? The pain in her forearm was nothing compared to the sting of Eli’s rejection as it knifed through her. Bottled up and exploding, Ella screamed her frustration. Without Eli’s hold on her right arm, she dropped the book bag on the muddy ground and used her free hand to pummel Phranq's gripping fingers.
Troll-y Yours BBW Erotic Curvy Fantasy Romance (The Centaurs) Page 3