by Jane Cousins
She wasn’t surprised then, when like every other morning the door to her room opened. Except this time there came no sound of booted heel crossing the linoleum floor, just silence. Eyes flying open she inhaled sharply in shock, a stranger stood just inside the doorway of her room, gazing at her intently. His dark blue eyes intense an unreadable as they swept her from head to foot, cataloguing every detail.
“Who are you?” She managed to get the words out in a raspy whisper.
“I’m your lawyer.” There was something about the way he said the words, crisply, tersely but with a resounding ring of truth.
“My lawyer?” Perhaps he had the wrong room. That three piece suit he was wearing probably cost more than her car. Perhaps he wasn’t a lawyer at all. He was way too pretty for a start. Was this some elaborate joke Dr Kenton or Sek and Mot had devised? Was she hallucinating?
“This is America. Everyone has a right to an attorney. And I’m yours.”
Of course he was, wait… what? There was something about the way he spoke, a decisiveness that brooked no challenge. Every fiber in her being wanted to believe him and that only raised her suspicions higher. Just who was this man? Where had he come from? And most importantly, why was he here in her room?
“No, who are you really?”
A brief smile flirted across his handsome face before he covered it with a hard business like look. “Tough crowd. Questions later. Can you walk?”
“No.” She burned to ask him a multitude of questions but for some reason she suddenly couldn’t form the words.
“Okay.” He shifted his black leather hideously expensive looking briefcase to his left hand, strode over to the bed and scooped her up as if she weighed no more than a feather. “Under section 44-13-60 whereby a patient deemed harmless or wrongfully committed may be removed from a state run facility as long as a suitable and/or fit custodian can be identified is hereby invoked. As a nominated representative of the court and legal sponsor of patient 9C121-16C I hereby retain custody of said patient forthwith.”
Serena’s mouth was open in shock as the man spouted legalese jibber jabber instead of just running for the door. Yet as he finished speaking a strange weight seemed to have lifted from the air.
Her head swam slightly at his nearness. The first gentle human touch she’d experienced in over five months, enough to make any girl giddy she assured herself. Especially when the man doing the touching looked like this one; clean shaven, strong chin, straight nose, broad shoulders, lean of build, tall, around six foot one. Hair the colour of dark chocolate mixed with the deepest of reds, kept short around the back and sides but he let his fringe grow out so the dark feathery tips caressed the tops of his eyebrows. And his eyes, they reminded her of the colour of the ocean just before twilight, so blue, so dark, they were almost navy in colour.
And the smell. By the Earth no wonder her head was swimming, the man smelt divine. As an Earth Witch she abhorred generic man-made fragrances but whatever this man used she wanted to roll around and bathe in it. Taking a deep breath she catalogued the heady notes of worked leather, bergamot, black pepper, sage and spiced rum.
“You okay?” His deep steady voice broke into her musings. “You’re not going to pass out on me are you?”
Serena willed the deep flush of embarrassment away, managing to meet his look with steady eyes. “I’m fine.”
Could she be more pathetic? She was as a weak as a kitten and probably looked more unsavoury than the patch of mold growing in the ventilation system. The man with the deep blue eyes was notably swoon worthy but the situation couldn’t be more inappropriate. And her current sad emaciated starved state was hardly conducive to romance… yet there was something about him.
Some instantaneous connection had occurred between them. The very air in the room seemed to crackle with the awareness of it. A wave of heat suffused her body to centre between her legs, suddenly she felt breathless and hyper aware of him. There was no way this man could remain unaffected by the sheer magnitude of the invisible bonds that had just linked them irretrievably together. She wondered what he was thinking behind those beautiful navy blue eyes. Okay so she didn’t really expect him to open his mouth and spout poetry or declare his undying love but she certainly wasn’t prepared for his next words.
“You aren’t going to throw up are you? This is one of my favourite suits.”
“What? No!” Serena all but squeaked. “Let’s just go.” She instructed as he made a break for the door at a swift pace. “No! We have to go that way.” She waved her hand directing him deeper into the building.
He glanced at her for a split second, weighing up some equation she couldn’t understand, before turning to obey her instructions. She was surprised when he didn’t ask for more details, and even more surprised by the sight of two orderlies slumped over in the corridor. One was sobbing his heart out, the other looked slacked jaw bordering on catatonic.
“What?... Did?” She struggled to form the words, straining her neck to get a look back over her lawyer’s broad shoulder. Glancing up to study her rescuer with burning curiosity. What had he done?
“Not everyone likes the truth.” He shrugged off her querying look with an enigmatic platitude.
She swore by the Earth and the Moon when she was stronger this man was going to give her some answers. “We need to go that way.” She instructed pointing left down the brightly lit corridor. Right now she wouldn’t worry about her weakened physical state, appalling appearance or the strange gorgeous man claiming to be her lawyer who had yet to give her his name. All she could focus on right at this moment was saving a very dear friend.
Chapter Two
Locke intentionally drove the gleaming, top of the range, black BMW too fast towards the final barricade to exit the facility. The guard manning the gate was unsurprised by the smug hotshot lawyer’s high handed tactics, though he still had to scramble to get the barricade lifted in time.
It was all about the image.
Something Maat’s warrior elite had a hard time getting their heads around when Locke had initially told them his requirements for this mission. It had been Vaughn of all people who’d finally understood his reasoning. It might have meant an extra three hour drive but it was worth him hiring a luxury car in Fort Worth rather than arriving closer to his destination, say in Lubbock, and being forced to drive an economy model car. Image literally was everything. Image was truth.
People saw the expensive haircut, Italian suit, silk tie, glossy high end leather shoes and exclusive one of a kind briefcase and they instantly thought lawyer. Doors automatically opened. Peoples’ concepts, ideas and stereotypes of lawyers solidified into truth.
When he’d initially driven up to the facility he’d barely bothered to tap the brakes, knowing the security guard would assume he was just one more over-paid dickhead lawyer and it was above his pay grade to deny the bastard in the top of the line luxury vehicle access to a state run facility. That was someone else’s problem.
The same thoughts went through the minds of the administrator and sentries on duty in the reception area. All packing way too much military hardware to fool anyone with half a brain that they were medical staff, but they too allowed Locke to barrel on past without him having to state out loud his business.
Things had gotten a little bit trickier the deeper into the hospital he’d travelled. If he’d been heading for the administration offices then no one would have questioned him. But still, a fast pace, arrogant air and a hard stare had kept the staff from questioning his presence.
It hadn’t been difficult to track down Serena’s room. The orderlies on duty on that ward hadn’t been mental giants exactly. Locke’s immaculate appearance and attitude, that he was perfectly entitled to be walking down any corridor he chose, was enough of an initial truth to halt them in their tracks so he could at least engage them in conversation before they resorted to physical violence.
Once they let him speak… well the rest is history. As he’d alw
ays said - truth hurts - and that was fine with Locke as long as it was hurting someone else. So he’d been congratulating himself as he’d walked towards the door the last orderly – with major mother abandonment issues - had indicated between heaving sobs was his destination.
Take that elite cavemen! Not a single drop of blood spilt. Not even an exchange of angry words. Okay there were tears, but they weren’t his, so they didn’t count right? His suit was his armour, his car his mighty steed and his briefcase full of irrefutable, incontrovertible truths his sword. He was invincible, unbeatable and just all-round the man. Nothing could touch him, he was lawyer… hear him roar. Or at the very least hear him smugly rub Vaughn and the rest of the Chippendale warriors’ noses in the fact that he had succeeded where they couldn’t. He was on such a high he didn’t think anything could bring him down.
Then he’d opened the door, taken one look at the petite pale occupant on the bed and he’d metaphorically crashed and burned into the ground, obliterating all life and kicking off the next ice age. Shit… he was in so much trouble.
Even in her current state, half starved, hollow cheeked with dark circles under her eyes she was the most beautiful woman he’d seen… ever. Her hair was that white gold you sometimes saw on little kids that only ever darkened with age, not hers, as it streamed out across the pillow next to her in a tangled mess. Her eyes were huge and the colour unusual, the inner ring of the iris blue, the outer purple. Her nose small and straight, her lips bee stung and rose coloured against the pale cream of her unblemished skin.
The large off-white hospital top and drawstring pants swam on her tiny frame, making it impossible for him to gauge her exact shape, until he picked her up and even in her depleted physical state soft curves pressed against him. He wondered briefly… inanely, how tall she was, at a guess he’d put her at five foot four.
It was no big deal he assured himself. She was a stunningly attractive woman. His was a perfectly normal reaction. Except he hadn’t been acting normally, if he had he would have dropped her like a hot rock at the thought she might hurl on his bespoke Caraceni charcoal grey three piece suit. In his book the fact that he didn’t drop her immediately hurtled him past the heroic category into the legendary tales to be told grandchildren category.
Hold on… what? Grandchildren? He’d never thought about children let alone grandchildren in his life. One look into dual pansy coloured eyes and he was waxing lyrical over non-existent future spawn. Goddess he needed to get her back to Maat Enterprises and fast, before he did, or worse said anything he was going to regret.
With the law, a bright shining protective shield on his side, Locke had booked it out of there fast, with only one minor detour to slow them down.
So now the security guard was forced to scramble at the gate, praying that the boom gate would lift in time, since it didn’t look like the over-priced piece of shit lawyer with the incredibly sweet ride was going to slow down.
Locke completed his award winning performance with a smug superior flick of his fingers at an underling so minor in the scheme of things he didn’t deserve a nanosecond of Locke’s time or energy. The guard frowned, wanker didn’t even wave, just sort of saluted him. It was all so typical, so expected; the guard didn’t even question why he hadn’t made the lawyer stop and double check in with front of house security like he normally would. Instead he just watched the dickhead speed off, leaving in his wake a cloud of choking dust.
With the hospital facility in his rear view mirror Locke chanced a swift glance at his passenger, huddled in the seat next to him, a pot plant containing an african violet clutched to her chest. He couldn’t believe they’d wasted precious time by detouring so that she could rescue a plant.
Thank the Goddess this was a rental, he shuddered at the sight of the medium sized pot, fresh earth threatening to spill over the sides any moment. His passenger seemed unfazed by the mess, or the fact that her fingers were clenched around the rim of the pot, pressing into the dirt. He had some sanitary wipes in his briefcase but he didn’t think she’d appreciate the offer. At least her colour was better, a faint tinge of pink clinging to her high cheekbones, her eyes clear and once more focused.
Returning his attention to the empty road Locke pressed his foot down on the accelerator, checking his rear view mirror. No sign of pursuit yet but it would come, the power of truth faded over time. Arguments, counterarguments, delusions, illusions, beliefs and peer pressure all nibbled away at truth. He might have right on his side, taking Serena Chastain away from that clinical hell hole, but now that he was no longer present to reinforce that truth, well human nature came once more to the fore. It was just a question of how long it would take until someone sounded the alarm.
With that in mind he pressed his foot harder still on the accelerator and the engine leapt to respond. That was another reason for wanting a high end luxury car, they made great getaway vehicles.
* * *
Serena had a million questions zinging around in her head but couldn’t seem to put any of them into words. Had they done something to her at the hospital? Was this part of her deterioration? Every time she went to open her mouth it was like an invisible hand squeezed her throat. Not that she wasn’t grateful to be out of that hateful place but she had so many questions. Gripping the pot plant hard, digging her fingers into the dirt deeper she forced the word out despite the pain it caused. “Questions!” Her eyes watered at the sheer effort saying just that one word cost her.
“What?” The man who claimed to be her lawyer glanced her way for a split second before refocusing on the road. “Right, yes, no doubt you have some questions. Sure…. ask away.”
And just like that the pressure eased. He’d done this to her? “What did you just do?” She rubbed her throat to ease the ache.
“Sorry, I forgot in all the mad rush that I’d told you not to ask any questions. We couldn’t afford to waste time on extraneous stuff like detailed explanations.”
Serena would have been more upset if she hadn’t noticed the dark stain of embarrassment that rose briefly across his tanned face. “Who are you?” Always start with the basics her grandmother had said.
“Locke... Locke Valhalla. I’ll be your rescuer today.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Me. I run a global firm specialising in corporate law.”
Serena frowned. “Did someone pay you to rescue me?”
“Money?” He laughed and it was a strangely attractive sound. “Try blackmail.” Locke ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. “Underhanded Maat loving bastard.”
“You know Maat’s warriors?” Serena felt a wave of relief sweep through her. Vaughn, Drum, Nate and the others hadn’t forgotten or abandoned her.
Locke must have heard something in her tone. “They’ve been looking for you, from the moment you left… disappeared.”
“They know it was Xander Marr right?” Serena tensed. “That he kidnapped me?”
“Yes they know.”
“What about Sek and Mot, do they know they’re trying to raise their father from the underworld?”
“And need a witch’s blood to complete the summoning? Yes.”
“Good, so they have everything under control.” Serena relaxed back in her seat.
“Well I wouldn’t say that. Xander’s catatonic. Sek and Mot are in the wind, no doubt out hunting for another witch and Apep’s casket has gone missing.”
“Oh.” Serena’s tension ramped back up, settling into a tight knot between her shoulders. “Why didn’t they come themselves… to rescue me?” She couldn’t keep the slightly dejected note out of her voice.
“They wanted to. But I told them they’d only get in my way. They’ve been scouring Texan prisons looking for you for months now. But the bad guys had you squirrelled away under a false identity. When Marcus finally pinpointed your location they staked out the facility looking for the best access points. Surprisingly common sense prevailed, they realised breaking you ou
t wasn’t going to be viable without instigating a bloodbath or alerting the chaos twins that your location had been compromised. So they came to me for the finesse option.”
“And had to blackmail you into volunteering?” Serena questioned drily.
“Please. We have a love hate relationship. I love that he makes my sister happy, I hate that he’s interfering on a daily basis with my life and work.”
“He?” Serena frowned.
“Vaughn.”
“Let me get this straight. Vaughn is involved with your sister?”
“They’re meld mates. Which essentially translates to being married.” Locke added helpfully, his eyes flicking to the rear view mirror, was that dust in the distant?
“I can’t imagine Vaughn married. Wow.” Serena’s gaze settled out the window, as the barren wasteland whizzed by. Earth, so much had changed and she’d been gone barely six months. Vaughn married? She pictured in her head some sweet blonde doll who wore an apron, high heels and baked. “So what does he have on you?”
“Have on me?”
“To blackmail you with?”
“Nothing earth shattering if that’s what you’re worried about. He just threatened to involve my father in what was going on.” Locke couldn’t help shuddering at the idea of his ‘smash, kill, destroy’ father taking an interest in his life.
“You’re scared of your father?” Serena asked a bemused tired smile tilting up the edges of her lips. Earth, her eyelids were growing heavy. Must be the adrenalin crash following their escape.
“Not scared exactly. It’s not like my mother would ever let him hurt me. Let’s just say I have a healthy respect for the man and leave it at that?”