Captured By The Warriors

by Daniella Wright

  Chapter Three

  I immediately began researching Davey’s romantic history, and if the tabloids were to be believed, then I was in dire straits. He had been in a long thread of very public relationships that ended explosively. He had also been involved in many relationships with married women, luring them to his bedroom, and then breaking it off as soon as they left their husbands for him.

  Marielle popped her head in to the office. She grinned.

  “I am so excited about this new client,” she said. I gestured toward my screen.

  “He’s going to be impossible,” I replied. “He can’t even date a girl for more than a few weeks. How am I supposed to find someone for him to spend the rest of his life with?”

  “If anyone could do it,” she said confidently, “it would be you. You make miracles happen, Penny.”

  “And horrible accidents,” I responded.

  “It’s not like you will fall in love with him,” Mari said. “I mean, he broke up with that one actress—Kerry Stonestreet, and she’s supposed to be the sweetest person.”

  “Exactly my point, Mari,” I said. “How am I supposed to find true love for a serial playboy?” I was definitely going to have to shadow him in order to figure things out. In his case, the threads of Fate were so blurred that I would need to probably handcuff myself to him. With the amount of people that he surrounded himself with, I was going to have to see his interactions with everyone.

  “I’m going to have to set up a shadow.”

  “Are you doing that for your job, or to rub elbows with the rich and the famous?”

  “Both,” I replied sarcastically and pulling a face at Mari. I picked up my phone, dialing Davey’s number. It rang a few times, then went straight to voicemail.

  “Hello Mr. Allred,” I began. “This is Penelope Harris. I am calling to set up a time for me to shadow you so that I can get a good feel for your life style and the type of person with whom you would be compatible before I can set you up with some potential matches among my clients. Please give me a call back. I believe you have my number.” I ended the call and looked at Mari. We both shrugged.

  “If I can pull this off, I bet I’ll be set up for life in the matchmaking business.”

  ~*~

  My phone rang. I looked at the display, noted that it was Penny Harris from the matchmaking agency. She had tried calling me to set up a time for her to trail me during my everyday life. I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. I pressed the mute button, and then focused my attention back to my agent. She was an attractive woman—she was five foot nine, blonde, and in her late forties. I would have boned her years ago had she not been such a ball buster. Not to mention, she didn’t sleep with clients. I respected her for that. We got along.

  She sighed deeply as she took a sip of her Twinnings Earl Grey—I never saw her drink anything else. She always brought her own teabags to the restaurant in case they didn’t carry it.

  “So, Davey,” she began. “About your little fling last Friday evening.”

  “How do you know I didn’t spend last Friday night behaving myself?” She looked at me sternly, one eyebrow raised.

  “Because I know your every move,” she replied dryly. “She just so happens to be the wife of one of the execs for the studio that is handling your current project.”

  “Oh?” I said. “I didn’t know that she was married.”

  “Yes you did,” she said. “Basically, you need to save face here. You need to demonstrate that you are not currently dating his wife. He doesn’t exactly believe her that the two of you aren’t in some long term type of thing.”

  “Well, if she’s been cheating on him, I imagine not.”

  “Right. So you need to be seen publicly with someone who is without a doubt single, and respectable.” She pointed a finger at me. “No call girls. I don’t want a Pretty Woman situation to deal with.”

  “Understood.”

  “Please make my job just the tiniest fraction of a bit easier.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “I mean it. You could lose your spot on this project.”

  “So do I.” I toyed with the idea of telling her about the matchmaking business that I had gone to—the one with the attractive and feisty matchmaker, but decided against it. She looked more than a little tired.

  Chapter Four

  I was stuck at a table with two immensely happy couples of my own design. As none of my “safe” male dates was available, I was the fifth wheel.

  “So, Penny,” one of the wives, Bethany, began, and I knew that it wasn’t going to be good. “How is the fiancé?”

  “Ex-fiancé.”

  “Oh, no,” she looked aghast.

  “He’s out of the full body cast,” I said. “But we ended up breaking it off.” I took a large gulp of my martini. The two couples looked around awkwardly, as though they were trying to find some thread of conversation. I stood up, deciding to give them some time without the fifth wheel.

  “I have to run to the ladies’ room,” I said, noting the looks of relief on their faces. I would stay until enough time had passed for them to finish discussing the sad state of my affairs and move on to another topic of conversation.

  There was a line to get in to the ladies’ room, so I stood outside in the hallway, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed. I glared at the floor, a neat parquet pattern.

  “Hey,” I looked up to find myself face to face with Davey Allred. Despite the fact that he had been dodging my calls, he looked happy to see me.

  “Please, can you do me a favor?” he asked me, his face solemn. “Just put it to your billable hours.”

  “What is it?”

  “I need you to meet my agent,” he said. “I don’t think she’d believe me otherwise.” I nodded, sighing deeply before following him through the restaurant. He led me to a table where a beautiful blonde woman sat. She looked regal, mid-forties, and was well-dressed in a cream-colored suit. She sipped a cup of tea elegantly. She looked at me questioningly as we walked up to the table.

  “Penelope Harris,” Davey said. “This is my agent, Veronica Lane.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Harris,” the agent said. She shot Davey a look.

  “Penelope runs a matchmaking agency,” Davey explained, and the woman’s eyebrow shot up. “She has agreed to help me find a fiancée.” The agent was clearly in a state of shock.

  “A fiancée?”

  “Yes.”

  “You?” As this exchange was going on, I looked at the threads between Davey and Miss Lane. They were definitely intertwined—these two were close. But the threads were silver; not the colors of a love match. And the threads were thin…so it was clear that their relationship was business only.

  “There’s an issue that you should probably know about,” Veronica said to me. “This one has invoked the ire of one of the executives at the studio that is running his current project.”

  “I see.” I said, tenting my fingers in front of me on the table.

  “He slept with the exec’s wife,” Veronica said in a dry tone, as though she had seen this far too often. I wondered if this was the reason that Davey suddenly required a fiancée.

  “Clearly, he has been to see you. Why, I don’t know,” she said. “But he definitely needs good publicity right now.” I could feel my own rage at Davey in that moment.

  “Publicity?” I snapped. “You’re doing this for good publicity?”

  “Well—”

  “No. I don’t do things like this. This is all wrong.” I put my face in my hands and sighed. A waiter passed by me, and I suddenly sensed the weft of threads between him and a restaurant customer. She was sitting a few tables down. The thread was pink, and it glowed with a warm light as it twisted together. I reached out toward the waiter. He looked at me.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  “Ask for her number when she gets up,” I replied in an undertone. “She won’t say no.”

  “How did you—”

/>   “Trust me on this one.” He nodded, and went on his way, glancing over at the girl as he did so. She was watching our exchange. I looked down at my fingers and began to work the tiniest of spells, directing it in the direction of the woman. I could feel the shift in her thought pattern as she and the others at her table got up. She was going to forget her phone on their table. I watched as she reached the door, as she realized her phone was still on the table, and then her return in time to run into the waiter. I smiled. Magic managed.

  “What did you tell him?” Davey asked. He was looking in the couple’s direction.

  “Just to take a chance,” I said, being spitefully and intentionally vague. His agent sighed loudly, finishing her tea.

  “I have to get going,” she said, collecting her things. “Miss Harris, it was a pleasure. Davey—keep it on a leash or in your pants.” She left, walking briskly out of the restaurant.

  “I have to get back to my table,” I said. “I’m sure they’re wondering where the fifth wheel has gone off to.”

  “Fifth wheel?”

  “Yes. I’m having dinner with friends whom I have set up. They’re all happily married now.”

  “If you’re so good at matchmaking, why are you single?”

  “That’s a long story. I can’t tell you all of it.”

  “Can I come with you?” he asked. “I want to see how the magic happens.” He had no idea how close he was to the truth.

  Chapter Five

  Sitting with my friends, we had a pleasant evening. They were all shocked to see Davey there. I failed to mention that he was technically a client. Davey was completely at ease. He didn’t try to seduce my married friends. Instead, he sat beside me, his hand on the back of my chair. I tried to follow the flow of the conversation, but I could feel the warmth coming off of Davey’s body. I could smell the scent of his skin; a clean but masculine scent, spicy.

  I dared to glance over at him, and he looked back at me. I startled. His eyes—they were yellow, with black slits for the pupils…

  “Your eyes…” I said, raising a hand to my mouth. He blinked, and they had returned to normal.

  “What about them?” he said easily.

  “I…um, nevermind.” I realized that he was supernatural, like me. What he was, I was not yet sure, but it definitely complicated matters farther. He leaned in to say something to me, and I could feel my skin tingle.

  “Do you want to shadow me?” he asked suggestively.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Right now,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “We’re going to head out,” he announced to the table, standing up.

  “Well it was lovely having you,” Frank, one of the happy husbands said.

  “Truly,” Bethany echoed. Hands were shaken, winks were given, and we left the restaurant. We stood out on the sidewalk. It had rained while we were inside of the restaurant, giving the city a musky smell. Davey stood beside me easily, his hands in his pockets as we waited for a taxi to pass.

  “So how will this work?”

  “I will pretend to be your personal assistant. You can call me Naima. That’s my middle name.” he nodded as I went on. “I’ll keep the attention away from me, but check out the women around you. See if any are a match.” He nodded, raising his hand as the taxi arrived.

  “Do you need to go and change?” I looked down at what I was wearing. A little black dress with a pencil skirt silhouette.

  “I’m working, remember?”

  “Okay.” He held up his hands, as though I were threatening him with a weapon.

  ~*~

  The women at the party that he took me to flocked around him. They wore skimpy clothes, and shot jealous looks at me, even though I was supposed to be working for Davey. He walked over to me, two champagne flutes in hand.

  “So? What do you think?”

  “A party at a Porno producer’s mansion is decidedly not the place to search for a future wife,” I said, taking a glass from him and taking a sip. A man walked by me, giving me the up and down, and I shot him the finger. Davey looked at me.

  “What if that’s the type of wife that I want?”

  “These women aren’t serious,” I said. “They want to be in the tabloids.”

  “I’m in the tabloids,” he replied.

  “Do you want to stay there?”

  “I’d have to think,” he shrugged. “I mean, bad attention is better than no attention at all, don’t you think?”

  I stared at him for a moment, realizing that he was serious. His attention was caught by a woman waving at him.

  “I have to go and say hello,” he explained. I nodded. A woman in a halter dress with a plunging neckline walked over to me.

  “I’ve heard that you’re Davey Allred’s new assistant.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Are the rumors true?”

  “Which ones?” her laugh was husky.

  “The ones that say he’s looking to get married.”

  “They might be,” I looked at her, inspecting the threads. Too thin. Red, but not pink.

  “Is he seeing someone?” she asked, tilting her head a little. “You, perhaps?”

  “Absolutely not.” I replied vehemently.

  “Mmm.” The woman smiled at me, her eyes glittering. I wondered if she were a vampire. “Just thought I’d ask.” I kept trying to scan the threads of the large group of people who were surrounding Davey. He was regaling them with a story, which they were all laughing at. I felt all of the threads through a fog. It was my own attraction to him, I realized. I was never going to be able to find a good match for him. Taking deep, calming breaths, I noted a few women who had visible pink threads and no obvious dates. I walked up to the first one confidently.

  “I love your dress,” I said. “Who designed it?”

  “Oh, thanks,” the woman said. She was wearing a sparkly short dress. “It’s vintage.”

  “Cute,” I replied.

  “So you’re here with Davey,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Well, yes and no,” I said. “He recently hired me as his personal assistant.”

  “Oh,” she said, immediately becoming more interested.

  “So what do you do?”

  “I’m a lawyer.”

  “Yeah? That’s cool. You want me to introduce you?”

  “I’d love that,” she replied. I got Davey’s attention. He walked over.

  “Davey,” I said. “This is…”

  “Caroline,” she said, holding out a hand.

  “Hello, Caroline,” Davey said, giving his wide stereotypical grin. I walked away, moving on to the next woman that I could sense the potential love matches with. She was standing on a table, dancing. I waited until she climbed down, flicking her long black hair over her shoulders. She walked over to the bartender, who was just handing out drinks.

  “Hey,” I said, grabbing a drink from the bartender.

  “Hey,” she replied.

  “So what do you do?”

  “I’m a singer, even though tonight, I’m a dancer.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  “So people say.” She seemed pragmatic. Davey would hate it…eventually. I looked over at him. He was talking to one of his close friends, who was another actor. I wondered what had happened with Caroline. There were a few other women with pink threads running toward Davey, but I could see that they wouldn’t be long term. My heart sank as I realized that there was a pink thread running in between myself and Davey. Not good. I couldn’t see where it was going, since Davey’s Fate was already so hazy. I was going to have to try harder.

  Davey was walking toward me. He was rubbing his nose.

  “Are you ready to move on?” he asked me.

  “Did you just do coke?” I exclaimed.

  “Well, we’re at a party,” he said. I rolled my eyes. I felt like I needed to babysit him.

  “Let me get Caroline’s information,” I said. “She might be good for you.” />
  “Veronica said no call girls,” he replied. I stood there, staring at him in exhaustion.

  Chapter Six

  I had compiled a list of women that had had pink threads at all of the parties that Davey and I had gone to. We had gone to three, and I hadn’t gotten back to my apartment until five in the morning.

  Late the next morning, I sat in my fluffy hot pink bathrobe, sifting through the names that I had collected from the parties. I took a sip of the super strong coffee that I had made.

  From the first party, the one at the Porn producer’s mansion, I could see two who could be immediately eliminated. One, a tall redhead, was clearly a gold digger. She had grown up poor, married money early, and had divorced to great gain. She was now looking for her second ex-husband. The other, a short blonde, was a closeted lesbian. She had grown up in a conservative Christian family. She was now looking in all of the wrong places for a man to bring home to the family.

  I sighed. There were two choices that might be good—Caroline’s thread had contained no silver. But Davey had spoken to her for less than five minutes before moving on. I thought back to the singer…maybe?

  My iPhone chimed. I picked it up as I took a gulp of coffee. It was a text from Davey.

  Got another party in you? It starts at eleven.

  Eleven PM?

  Nah. Eleven AM.

  That’s in twenty minutes.

  Yep. I’ll come pick you up.

  I stood up from the couch and walked over to my hallway mirror. My eyes were puffy and had dark circles under them from lack of sleep. I wondered how on earth he was able to—wait. I remembered back to the restaurant, when his eyes changed. He was supernatural. Something that was stronger and more attractive at night, but not vampire, since he was able to function during the day.

  I groaned, beginning to let magic flow into my under eyes, clearing up the dark circles and then walked into the bathroom. The perks of being a witch were never ending. I painted on some makeup, and then put my hair into a messy bun on top of my head. I dressed frumpily—like I was going to work, not a party. The buzzer to my apartment rang.