Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

  He hadn’t told her yet about his sister, knowing Saia, she’d want to help him find her. But it was too risky right now.

  “There ya go,” a light, chirpy voice said and handed him a menu.

  Riley lifted his head. A moment of sheer surprise snatched his breath. His sire’s lime-green irises merged into the gold ones, smiled at him. She looked nothing like Wrath, or him for that matter. Tall, yes, but her skin was a rich latte, a striking contrast against her honey-blonde hair woven into a million braids, which she’d pulled into a ponytail. She wore the pub’s uniform of short, black skirt, green tee, and a black half-apron.

  “So, what will it be—soda, juice, or something stronger?”

  He stopped the restless drumming of his fingers on the checkered cloth-covered table. Usually, he was the one asking that question. “I don’t know, surprise me.”

  Curious hazel eyes studied him for a second. She smiled and revealed perfect dimples. Nope, definitely not from his sire.

  “One surprise coming up then.”

  She danced off on her sneakered feet to some kind of music in her head only she must hear. She smiled at the flirty remarks a few guys made and headed for the bar. Riley narrowed his eyes at their lascivious looks and had to reel in his instincts to go all cave-man protective. Hell, she had no idea who he was.

  He took in his surrounding instead, really glad this wasn’t one of the sleazier joints. His sister didn’t belong in those dumps. The place had a relaxing atmosphere where food was just as important as drinks. The aroma of burgers and spicy tacos drifted to him.

  “There ya go.” A whiskey, neat, appeared beside his hand. He nodded his thanks. “You’ve come to the right place for whatever troubles you,” she said in an easy way that seemed an intrinsic part of her bubbly personality.

  Yeah, inheriting a Sin with the archangel breathing down his neck was a pain in the ass. He pushed his dismal thoughts aside, focused on his sister.

  Damn, he had a sister! The very thought overwhelmed him. He flat-out refused to draw her into his world like he’d done with Saia. With his mate, he’d known soon after they met that their path was set. He’d let his sister have a chance at a normal life for as long as he could before he tore her world apart with the truth.

  “I hope so.” He took a mouthful of the smoky liquor. Shit. That had to peel a layer of his throat.

  “I can give ya a moment.”

  He set the glass on the table. Cocked a brow. “Most guys would take that statement as an invitation.”

  “Oh, they do, but I handle them.” She brushed it away with that easy smile. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

  “I don’t normally do bars.” He was usually too busy at his own to bother with others. “What are you called?”

  Tiny lines formed between her brows at his question.

  “Something wrong?”

  Her head tipped slightly to the side as she studied him. “No, it’s the way you asked me.”

  Shit. Not, what are you are called? Human speak, dumbass. After a thousand years here, one would think he’d know that. Being in Stygia seemed to have short-circuited his brain cells.

  “But I answer to bar girl,” she quipped. “Waitress, love, chica, take your pick.”

  Friendly, teasing, guarded. She still hadn’t given him her name. He didn’t require one right now, but she would need his to remember him. He’d bring Saia along the next time he came—after he’d taken care of all the crap dogging his boots.

  He picked up his glass and sucked back the rest of his fiery liquor, hoping it would ease the tautness in him. “I’m Riley, by the way.”

  “So, Riley, what brings you here?”

  “What troubles all guys drinking in bars?” he asked and waited to see her reaction. Admiration lit her gaze as she looked him over, but it wasn’t one of sexual interest—thank the gods.

  “With your looks, it has to be girl trouble—” Then she smirked. “Or is it a guy?”

  He lied. “Girl.”

  “You should talk to her. We women like that.”

  Yeah, so he was finding out. Warily, he rubbed his neck as the restlessness inside him swelled. He’d ducked Saia’s question about the transference. He was aware she wasn’t going to let him off that easy, not when she’d been on his back about going back to Stygia.

  With his brain churning inside his skull, he could barely think straight, felt as if fire ants were crawling over his skin. The meet and greet with his sister over, now he had to get out of here. There was one more thing he needed to know. “You worked here long?”

  “Nah.” She laughed. “I work in a bar—Lower East Side. I’m covering for a friend tonight. You want another?”

  “No.” He handed her a bill. “Keep the change.”

  Her gaze widened. “But this is a hundred dollars.”

  “Keep it.” He scanned the customers and stilled. The malevolence in the air turned his blood to ice. Shit. He grabbed the mind of a human some distance away and shoved a thought into his head.

  “Chica?” the man yelled. “Another round of ale here.”

  She flicked those strikingly familiar eyes between the man waving his arm and him. “Gotta go. And thanks.” She tucked the money in her apron and bopped off.

  With a bored expression, Riley casually glanced around, scanning for the evil he felt. His gaze collided with an obsidian stare.

  Ayperos leaned against the bar counter at the far end, watching him. His dark hair longer than Riley remembered, his eyes so empty it appeared as if an abyss had opened in there.

  How in the nine hells had he missed this asshole tailing him?

  He had to get out of here, get his head together so he could deal with this fucker before he went after his sister. No, Ayperos wouldn’t, he had no idea who she was. Why waste time with humans who were of no value, ones he couldn’t use to torment Riley. Unlike Saia.

  Reining in his anger, Riley left the pub and headed down the street, hoping to draw the bastard out.

  In the seedier backstreets of SoHo, Riley waited, leaning against a graffiti wall.

  The change in the air rippled across his skin with an icy bite. A faint sob reached him, a woman crying. With preternatural speed, he followed the pained cry and pulled up short.

  Blood-demons fed on a human pinned to the greasy wall. Ayperos stood nearby, smirking.

  Damn bastard! Riley leaped for him and lashed out, but his hands slipped through air. Chilling laughter echoed in the empty alley.

  “Tut, tut, tut.” The wavering image of Ayperos shook his head. “Is that any way to greet me, brother?”

  The fucker was projecting.

  Ayperos sneered. “You wondering where I am? How strong I have become, still wanting to be like me—”

  “Yeah, it’s what I spent my life doing, emulating you,” Riley drawled while scanning the psychic vibe, trying to track where the projection originated. “I have better things to do, like prepare for my birthright, that’s what you’re after, right, brother?” he taunted, hoping the bastard would appear in his corporeal form.

  “You think to mock me?” Even with the flickering projection, the sinister image spewed venom. “I will have what is rightfully mine. Or that little mortal you mated will die.”

  At the threat to Saia, Riley’s barely leashed temper cracked open. He lunged for him, but Ayperos’s image shimmered and flickered off like a firefly. The urge to tear him apart with his bare hands shook Riley so badly, he spun around and punched the wall. Pain vibrated through his bones.

  Saia, please, please be safe. He tried to connect with her, but his mind was too frayed.

  Blood seeped from his knuckles. Ignoring it, he fished his cell from his jeans pocket and called her.

  She answered on the first ring. “Riley?”

  “Hey, baby. What you doin’?” He flexed his fast-healing fingers.

  “Watching a dirty movie—want to join me?” He didn’t respond to her teasing, just squeezed his eyes tight, hi
s chest loosening in relief. “Riley? What’s wrong?”

  Her concern for him leaped out of the phone. “Just an encounter with my past.”

  “Ayperos.”

  “Yeah. Stay safe for me.”

  “Ditto.”

  Ending the call, he flashed back to The Quarter. His hands clenching and releasing at his sides, he scanned the area around him. He needed a fight, needed to get this shit battering at him under control. A drunken group of humans jostled him as he stalked down the noise-filled Decatur Street.

  Clamping down his irritation, he cut into another alley reeking of Eau-de-crap, looking for trouble, for Trevor, he didn’t care which. He jerked to halt at the sight of the shadowy figure leaning against a wall, flicking a lighter on and off.

  Bloody hell, he didn’t need a family reunion right now.

  “I don’t trust this kind of silence.” Noah flicked his lighter on again as Riley neared him. Then off. On. Off. “More shit’s stirring, and it’s not from those Caligos waiting for some idiot to stumble by.” He nodded to the turbulent mass of black mist clinging to the red brick wall of the gloomy, defunct building opposite them. “But something…darker.”

  The lighter clicked on again. The hint of fire kept the formless fucks at bay, but by Hades, it irritated the shit out of him.

  Noah cupped the flame in his palm and blew it into the blackened alley. The tiny blaze grew to the size of a golf ball and exploded. A sharp shriek and the shapeless mass evaporated. But the sounds reverberated through Riley’s skull.

  Noah dropped his lighter into his jeans pocket. “Whatever it is, is heading straight for us.”

  At his ominous prediction, Riley stilled. He couldn’t deal with whatever that portent was. With his transference just days away, he had to leave soon. Leave his mate.

  Gods! He tried not to think about leaving Saia alone for who the hell knew how long.

  No, no, can’t leave… the worse kind of danger trailed his ass right now. He rubbed a hand over his clipped hair, down his nape. Fists clenching.

  “You okay, there?” Noah asked.

  What was it with everyone asking him the same bloody question? He dropped his hand. “Yeah. Great. Later.”

  He headed for his bar. The skull-rocking noise there was far better than the storm splintering inside his head.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Saia puffed out a breath, scrubbing away the damp strands sticking to her sweaty face as she and Ikaria left the gym the following afternoon. She climbed the stairs, wincing with each step. The muscles in her butt protested, too sore from landing on her bottom several times.

  Training with Ikaria had been just as tough as the session with Riley the day before.

  Ikaria gave her an encouraging smile. “You learn fast, Saia. I’m impressed.”

  “Yeah? I don’t think my backside agrees.”

  Laughing, Ikaria looked her over, her expression morning into concern. “You sure you okay? You look a little pale.”

  So she was a little tired. A sleepless night would do that, worrying about Riley after his call. “I’m fine, nothing a tall glass of orange juice can’t fix—coming?”

  “No. Later perhaps.” Ikaria slung her towel over her shoulder. “I want a shower first.”

  Saia parted ways with her and headed for the kitchen.

  A moment later, taking a long, thirsty drink of her OJ, she headed for the back stairs. At the sounds of voices coming from the other end of the corridor, anticipation had her hurrying toward them instead. She slowed to a halt, disappointment crushing her.

  Her brothers had arrived, with Piers.

  They’d obviously ransacked the kitchen earlier and were now armed with the cookie jar and a six-pack of Coke. “Hey, sis,” they chorused.

  “Bros.” Unable to avoid Piers, she greeted him. “Hello, Piers.”

  “Saia.” His gaze lingered on the hand-span of skin her black tank revealed. She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around her waist. This time, she couldn’t even blame her mother for his presence here since she’d gone off with her father to some corporate lunch in the city.

  Hastily, she turned to her brothers. Zayn slugged back more of his Coke and smirked. “You look like something the cat wouldn’t drag anywhere.”

  She gave him a dirty look. “I’m not one of your floozies who spends twenty-four-seven in front of a mirror—don’t you two work?”

  “Hey, now, it’s past five. Don’t be a slave driver like Noah,” he grumbled.

  Her gaze snapped to Rohan, munching on a cookie. “And you—”

  “Me, what?” His brow rose innocently like he didn’t know that Mary had made those choc-chip biscuits for her.

  “—stop stealing all the cookies.” She helped herself to one from the jar he held and bit into it.

  “Where’s the beautiful Aria?” Zayn asked. “I can’t seem to get a moment alone with her.”

  “Hiding. She said to stop bugging her.”

  Zayn laughed and tugged her braid. Saia wrinkled her nose, skirted them, and headed for the front stairs, aware of Piers’s burning gaze following her.

  “Saia, a second?”

  Aw, crap. So close to escape. But best to get this over with. She turned.

  “I’ll catch up in a moment,” Piers told her brothers.

  “Two minutes or you forfeit the game and the Renoir is mine,” Rohan warned as they headed for the rec room.

  Good, at least Piers’s time was limited. But playing against the twins? Had he not learned anything?

  Piers closed the distance between them, stepping too damn close as usual. Did he even know the concept of personal boundaries? The acrid reek of whatever he smoked swamped her air space and clogged her lungs, stirring her queasiness to life. She stepped back.

  “I hear congratulations are in order.”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  “I wasn’t congratulating you.” He scowled, a light flush flaring across his sharp cheekbones. “You’re making a mistake. Dammit, Saia, I’m so much better, don’t you see?”

  Saia stared absently at the cookie crumbled in her palm and wondered if she should just walk away. She didn’t need this now.

  “I think he’s somehow coerced you. Let’s leave now. We can go to Vegas, be married by tomorrow, then he’d leave you alone.”

  Piers couldn’t take a hint if it whacked him straight in the face, and now she’d have to spell it out for him, be the bad guy. Sheesh! Her mother just had to go and pick one that was a little mental. “Look, Piers, I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way about you—”

  “You lie! You’ve always liked me.”

  She sighed. “Piers, I was a child then. People grow up. Change. I love Riley. He hasn’t coerced me into anything. I want to marry him.”

  “Don’t play with me, Saia.” He crowded her against the foyer wall, his breathing erratic, and trapped her with his hands on either side of her. An angry flush streaked his face. “This past week, you encouraged me whenever we met.”

  What the hell? She narrowed her eyes, her nails biting into her palm so she wouldn’t punch him. “You’re delusional. I did no such thing. Now get off me.”

  “Or you’ll what?” He sneered. “Call your brothers? No, wait, the bartender. Yes, he’ll sort me out.”

  With her cookie-crumbed palm, she shoved him hard with one hand, the juice she held sloshing over the other. He stumbled back. “What’s wrong with you?” she snapped. “Sure, Riley tends the bar, but in his own damn place!”

  “You mock me?” His expression darkened. He seized her braid, yanked her to him. His mouth slammed down on hers. Her glass slipped and crashed to the floor in a shattering of crystal. Saia hit his chest, struggling to break free. His grip on her hair tightened, became painful. His teeth ground against her lips. Furious, she bit him.

  Snarling, he reared back and slapped her across the face.

  She cried out, pain streaking through her cheek and into her skull. She cupped her throbbing flesh
in disbelief. Gasps rang out.

  Mary and the front room’s maid stood there in shock. Mary scurried off.

  “See what you made me do?” He stepped back, licking his bleeding lip, and glared at her like it was all her fault.

  Rough breaths sawed past her lips. Anger, wild and vicious, jetted through her veins. Muscles coiled, Saia kneed him hard in the crotch.

  Howling, he hunched, cupping his groin.

  “Don’t you ever touch me again!” She zipped past him, eyes blurring with tears from the stinging slap, and slammed full force into a hard body materializing in front of her. Strong, familiar arms banded around her. She buried her face in Riley’s shirt, inhaling harshly, trying to get her fear and anger under control.

  “Saia?”

  At the soft timbre of his voice, she held on tight and willed herself not to give in to stupid tears. A finger beneath her chin lifted her face up. His gaze narrowed on her burning cheek and bruised mouth. She had a mere second to see the icy rage flare fiercely in his green eyes.

  In a blur, he moved. She spun around just as Piers crashed into the podium, knocking over the crystal vase. The thing shattered on the marble floors in tinkling fragments, along with her mother’s prized roses. Blood streamed from Piers’s nose.

  “You dare touch my mate?” Riley stood over the fallen male, his tone freezing the tiny hairs on Saia’s arms. He hauled Piers up by his shirt.

  “Let go of me, asshole!” Fist swinging, Piers caught Riley dead in the belly, but it didn’t even move him. Riley trapped him against the wall, a hand on his throat.

  Then Piers’s eyes popped wide, fear overtaking his face. “His eyes—his eyes!” he yelled, tugging at Riley’s deadly grip.

  Saia couldn’t see his face, but she knew.

  “Riley, no!” Panicked, she darted over, grabbed his arm and tried to pull him off Piers. But it was like moving the Erymic Mount of Stygia. His eyes gleamed a perilous python-green. A flare of red burned in his pupils. If he killed Piers, it would be the end.

  Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down and bring back the man she loved from near self-destruction. “Riley.” She stroked his arm, his biceps felt like coiled steel, his rage an ominous cloud. “Please, let him go. You have to let him go.”