by Marie Harte
Her mouth fell open. “He’s helping a priest?” She couldn’t see Darius anywhere near a church, let alone volunteering to help at one.
“In a roundabout way. One of the waitresses at Outpour volunteered Darius to teach a self-defence class offered by her church. Next thing you know Darius is helping mentor fatherless kids, showing up at the shelters to fix the heaters every time they go out, and even offering our services when needed.” He shook his head. “He told us not to say anything about it, but geez, give the guy some credit.”
“Wow,” was all she could say. Darius, a Good Samaritan?
“Look Samantha, Darius is trying to give you space to make up your mind about him. I told him he’s going about it all wrong, but would he listen to me? No.”
She didn’t understand what she was hearing. “Excuse me?”
Cad sighed. “Darius really wants to make a good impression on you.”
“So visiting homeless shelters and not telling me about them, not to mention avoiding me, is supposed to impress me?”
“No, no, no. What I meant was, he helps out with those in need because he can. He’s a warrior. Hell, we all are, and protecting those in need is what we do best. As for the shelter, think about it. That firepower of his makes warming those left in the cold a real gift. But he would never brag about any of it. He doesn’t like calling attention to himself.”
Another layer of Darius Storm slowly revealed itself. “He couldn’t have mentioned where he was going when I asked?”
“No.” Cad pursed his lips in disgust. “My brother may be the toughest of us, but he’s an idiot when it comes to women.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “And you’re what, God’s gift to women?”
“Exactly.” His eyes sparkled, a rich brown that made her think of melting chocolate. “I told him to seduce you with words, to tell you how he feels. But he told me…well, it’s not fit for polite company.”
“Right.” She laughed again, choosing her words carefully. “Why should he need to tell me how he feels? As I see it, he’s doing me a favour by protecting me from ’Sin Garu.”
Cadmus’ gaze shuttered, and she zeroed in on that fact. “You could say you’re doing us a favour too, by staying close. The next time ’Sin Garu tries to attack we’ll be ready and hopefully we’ll end it.”
“But why me? Why mess with my dreams?”
“Maybe because you can see what others can’t.” He paused, then stared at her with an intensity that left her breathless. “Even if Darius hadn’t told us about your visions, I’d know. I feel your gift, Sam. I know because I see as well.”
“You do?” Darius hadn’t mentioned that.
He nodded. “My elemental magic is my bond with the earth. But more than that, my powers of clairvoyance have grown. I dream of future events, some of which come to pass while others don’t.”
“Why? Because you’ve changed them, stopped them from happening?”
“Or because they were just dreams. I don’t think everything I see is a vision of the future.” He smiled wryly. “But then I’ve been told to quit questioning my power and accept it. What about you?”
She stopped to think, admitting to Cad what she had yet to admit to herself. “I’ve always had strange dreams, most of which I force myself to forget since there’s little I can do to change them. The few times I actually intervened, no good came of it.”
He waited while she struggled to put into words the hopelessness of her talent.
“Two instances come to mind. Twice I tried to stop something terrible from happening, and both times I fell short. The first time my sister suffered a broken leg instead of the concussion I foresaw.”
“And the second?”
“The second time a neighbour died in a car wreck.”
“But if that’s the case, that just meant he or she was meant to die, that nothing you said or did could have prevented it.”
“Right.”
“No, really.” He looked intent on clearing her conscience, and she was touched he cared enough to try. “What exactly did you see that made you think your neighbour would die?”
“I saw Mr. Rumfeld clutching his heart. He fell to his knees all alone in his kitchen. The ambulance arrived too late to resuscitate him.”
“There, you see?”
“But the next day when I convinced him to see a doctor about the heart pains he’d been experiencing, he was hit by an out of control truck on his way to the doctor’s office.”
“That’s because it was his time to die. I’ve talked to Arim about this many times, and it seems there’s a fine line between changing the future and redirecting it. Normally when someone is going to die, there’s little you can do to change it. Maybe they die by sword instead of by poison, get hit by a car instead of suffering a fatal health problem.
“But sometimes we see a circumstance not meant to be, a situation caused by otherworldly means. Take our being here.”
“You and me?”
“No, myself and my brothers. We lived the first few months in this world in Snoqualmie’s mountains. Then I had a vision of a possible future, one in which we died by wraith attack after arriving.”
“You’re kidding.” She was surprised by how good it felt to talk to someone who could do what she did, but who, unlike her, embraced his gift.
“I told Darius and the others about it, and we managed to contact Arim in time to prevent the Netharat from discovering this realm. At least we thought that at the time,” he added quietly.
“So how did you come to live here?”
“Arim told me to search inside myself for an alternate future. That night I dreamt of six lucky numbers. And like magic, here we are.”
Samantha grinned. “Gotta love that lottery. I tried to control my visions when I was younger. But after the loss of my neighbour, I stopped listening to my dreams. They come sporadically but I usually forget them the morning after.”
She immediately thought back to her erotic dream of Darius. A fantasy or possible reality? Would that come to pass? And why did the thought of it not happening make her depressed?
“Cadmus?”
“Hmm?”
“What does the word ’affai’ mean?”
He choked on his coffee and she waited while he recovered. Interesting reaction. And one that made her determined to know the word’s meaning.
“Where did you hear that? Darius?”
“What does it mean?”
He paused, too long for her comfort. “What did he say it meant?”
“He said it was a term of affection, but I have the feeling it means more than that.” Her heart was pounding, as if on the verge of discovering something extremely important.
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Marcus stood in the kitchen doorway, his eyes wide as he looked from her to Cadmus and back.
“Marcus, great to see you up and about.” Cadmus beamed at his brother with obvious relief.
“I’m changing into sweats.” Stupid brothers, sticking together. “You can come with me or I go out alone around the block. Your choice,” she growled and stomped to her room.
The minute she left, Marcus glared at Cadmus.
“Darius specifically asked us to let him explain the affai situation, when the time comes. And the time isn’t now. Want to scare her off before he has a chance to propose?” he hissed quietly.
Cadmus shrugged. “What was I supposed to say? She asked me what affai meant out of the blue.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t see that one coming, soothsayer,” Marcus drawled, though for once Cadmus didn’t see the humour in the situation. “I can see I’m needed more here than at work.” He exhaled heavily, as if tasked with a great burden. “What say I take the day off and help you out before you help her right out the door?”
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Cadmus scowled, clenching his fists to keep from punching Marcus in his conceited jaw.
“I know, but just because I’m bett
er than you doesn’t mean I can’t tolerate you.” Marcus’ eyes shone with laughter, and without another thought, Cadmus launched a fist.
Chapter Nine
When Darius arrived home promptly at six, it was to find Marcus and Cadmus glaring at each other over a chessboard with Samantha laughing as she watched.
“What’s going on in here?” he murmured, entranced with her laughter. He’d never seen her so free or so happy, and he hated the niggle of jealousy that she’d found joy with his brothers instead of with him.
When she turned to face him, her eyes lit with welcome, it was all he could do to nod and smile, as if his cock hadn’t hardened to the point of pain, as if every breath she took didn’t arouse him on some level.
Giving her space to accept him, to come to grips with this whole mess, was killing him. He’d gone out of his way to avoid her this week, continuing his work at the bar even though he’d rather have watched over her at home. But spending the night so close to Samantha without being able to touch her, well, it was more than he could handle. He needed space to adjust to her presence in his life too. But if this past week was anything to go by, he knew he could never let her go.
“Darius, welcome home.” Samantha glowed, and only by sheer will did he force himself to remain in place.
“Who’s winning?” He nodded to the game.
“I can’t tell. Every time Cadmus moves a piece, the game board shifts and water pools under his bishops.”
“You always were a sore loser.” Cadmus sneered at Marcus across the table. He moved his queen. “Check.”
Marcus raised one brow and the board flooded, pieces going everywhere.
Darius rolled his eyes, his lip curling in humour. “Come on, Samantha. We’ve got a date, remember?” He watched her with hungry eyes, aware she felt his need. The closer she drew, the more she tensed. When she bridged the gap between them, he reached out and took her hand in his, stifling a groan at the sensual burn spearing his body.
“Guys? I’ve got her. Thanks for all you’ve done this week,” he said gruffly. “Why don’t you celebrate? Go out and get laid—” he stopped that train of thought when Samantha glared at him. “I mean, go out and have a good time, at a bar or something.”
He grabbed her coat from the hall closet and helped her put it on, waiting for her response. It wasn’t until they entered his truck before she let loose.
“Nice, Darius.” Her words were clipped, and he stifled a grin. “Go out and get laid. You are such a man.” He gathered man was supposed to be insulting. “What’s wrong with your brothers hanging out together, or staying in tonight? Maybe they’d rather get to know a woman before banging her brains out.”
He laughed and reached for her hand to give it a squeeze. “Come on, Samantha. You’ve spent a week with my brothers. Do you really think Marcus and Cadmus are the type to get to know a woman? All touchy-feely?”
“I’m not sure about Marcus,” she answered slowly. “But I like Cad. He’s been nothing but a gentleman all week long, and I felt bad he was made to stay inside because of me.”
Darius groaned. “He volunteered to stay with you, Samantha. I’m not the bad guy here. The only reason he wasn’t trying to get you into bed is because he knew I’d kill him if he tried. Gentleman, ha.”
So Cadmus had tried impressing Samantha with manners and compliments? Nice try, and apparently Samantha had fallen for it.
He only hoped she didn’t expect pretty words from him. He paused in thought. “So is that the kind of guy you like?”
It would kill him if he had to act like a ‘gentleman’. He’d tried it once and had met with disastrous results. The woman hadn’t cared about his words, only his looks and position in high court, but his brothers, well, they still liked to tease him about the ‘bouquet’ incident.
“What?”
“The kind of guy you like, a guy who’ll flatter you and bring you gifts.”
“Please.” She huffed and he felt the tension drain right out of him. “I’ve never been one for false praise, and I’m not much on flowers. They last maybe a week before you have to throw them out. Now chocolates, on the other hand,” she paused and licked her lips, making him groan silently. He shifted in his seat, his erection straining his jeans. Damn, he needed relief.
“We shouldn’t have to wait long to eat,” he said to change the subject. “I made reservations for six-thirty. I would have been home earlier but I had a few errands to run.”
“For Father Denton?” She stared at him with a strange glitter in her moss green eyes.
He flushed. Cadmus and his big mouth. Now she probably thought he was a soft touch. “It’s no big deal.” He tried to shrug it off and felt his embarrassment grow as she studied him like an exotic bug. “What?” he barked.
Her lips pursed in a smile. “Nothing.” She cleared her throat and he relaxed. “I appreciate the time you’ve given me lately, to gather my thoughts I mean.”
“Oh, right.” Keep your mind on the road, not on the fullness of her mouth.
“I haven’t seen you much. I hope my being at your house hasn’t kept you away.”
“Not at all,” he lied. “I’ve been putting long hours in at work—”
“And teaching self-defence classes.”
“—so I’m sorry if being watched over by my brothers has been annoying.”
“Not at all. Still, you were gone an awfully long time this week. Even Cadmus commented on it.”
“Did you miss me?” She coloured and satisfaction filled him. Deciding to give in a little, he admitted, “Staying away from you has been killing me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not a patient man.”
The startled look on her face was priceless, as was the unadulterated mirth that followed. Husky and deep, Samantha’s laughter encompassed the whole of her, making him really look at her. Such genuine caring lingered around a heart that had been battered but held strong—and that in itself was a powerful magic.
The pure joy of the moment, of just being with her, convinced him he would succeed, that he could persuade Samantha to accompany him home, to join with him as his royal affai.
“So pensive,” she murmured, studying him with curiosity.
“Hmm?”
“It means thoughtful, preoccupied, brooding—”
“I get it,” he growled, but couldn’t contain a chuckle. “You’re as much a pain in the ass as I am. Maybe that’s why we get along so well.”
Her eyes shone bright and her lips drew into a large smile, one that made his heart beat faster. As he drove into the parking lot, he wondered how fast he could end dinner and begin making love to her. He sent out a subtle probe and felt an answering response lingering in her thoughts.
Damn. Now dinner would prove excruciatingly long. He just knew it.
A half-hour past their reservation time, his prediction had come true. Sighing, he decided to make use of the time.
Swigging ale far inferior to the house brew at Outpour, he stared into Samantha’s lovely eyes and ignored her last comment, asking the question plaguing him for days. “Just how much can you see into the future, and how long have you had such a gift?”
She paused in the act of sipping her wine and blinked. “So much for answering my question about service at Outpour.” She took a larger swallow. “I knew you’d get around to asking me about the dreams sooner or later.”
The hostess interrupted, announcing their table was ready. After seating Samantha, Darius sat across the table and waited to hear her explanation. Suddenly, a long dinner didn’t seem like such a poor way to spend their time together.
“The first dream I recall ever coming true happened when I was four. It was during the holidays and I’d wanted a mini-baking set for Christmas. Well, I ruined any surprise by ‘seeing’ everyone’s gifts the following day.
“I didn’t tell my parents or my sister about the dream. But when I next visited my grandmother I mentioned it. Seems precognition runs in the family. Skips a
generation here and there, but basically carries through on my mother’s side.”
“So your grandmother had the gift? Did your mother and sister?”
“No, it skipped Mom and Cheryl. Far as I know, I’m the last Varell, that’s my mother’s maiden name, to have the ‘gift’. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
He studied her, aware of the pain she didn’t mention. He caught an echo in her thoughts of her earlier conversation with Cadmus. “It must be hard, not having anyone to share your ability with.”
She nodded. “Speaking with Cadmus today felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I’m not crazy,” she said firmly, as if he might be harbouring such thoughts. “And it’s nice to talk with someone who understands.”
That ‘someone’ should have been him. He frowned. “Give me a chance, Samantha. I understand more than you might think.”
She flushed and would have answered when the waiter arrived with menus. Once he’d left, Samantha changed the subject.
“So what’s it like having three identical brothers? Growing up with an irritating older sister was bad enough.”
He chuckled. “It has its moments. Despite our looks, each of us is decidedly different, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed.”
“You can say that again.”
“But we have our similarities as well. We can sense when one of us is in danger, but nothing more telepathic than a shared feeling of foreboding. We like women.” He playfully leered at her and was gifted with an eye roll and a broad grin. “But more than that, each of us loves our homeland, our people, and not the least our family.”
He smiled, remembering his mother’s warm smile, her strength in the face of his father’s death, and her unique scent, one that always made him feel at home.
“It’s obvious you have a tight family.” She sounded envious.
“And you don’t,” he said softly, again feeling her pain in the wake of what she perceived as a failed relationship.
“No. My sister, as I already mentioned, was irritating in the extreme. It started when she turned five and commandeered all my dolls. It never got any better. My mother and father love me, I know, but we have so little in common it’s pathetic.”