Dark Warrior Untamed

by Alexis Morgan

  Sandor’s smile disappeared immediately. “Son of a bitch! What’s that supposed to mean? Well, beyond the obvious threat.”

  “I don’t know—yet. But don’t worry, I will find out.”

  The gold sparks flickering in Sandor’s eyes matched the blue flames in Grey’s own. Too bad neither of them had a solid target for their aggression.

  “It gets stranger. The message startled Piper and before I could do more than take a quick look, the screen went blank again. And then the e-mail was gone.”

  “You mean you couldn’t open the message again?”

  “No, I mean it was literally gone. It’s like the damned thing never existed. I was going to dig deeper when you came in.”

  “I don’t like this.” Sandor studied Piper’s computer. “I assume she ran a complete scan?”

  It wasn’t really a question. “First thing. I also ran one on my computer, and then on Kerry’s and Ranulf’s. No weird e-mails, no viruses.”

  “Okay, I’ll check Piper’s system myself.”

  “Do you need me to get you in?”

  Sandor’s fingers were already dancing over the keys. “Nope. I set you up with the authority to override any security protocols, but I kept mine as well. I was going to have you change it when you got back, but maybe we should hold off for the moment.”

  Piper wasn’t going to like having the two of them messing around in her files, but too bad. “Let me know what you find or if you need any help.”

  “Will do.”

  Half an hour passed with the click and clatter of computer keys filling the air, punctuated only by Sandor muttering obscenities whenever he got frustrated. Grey knew how he felt and added his own curses to the litany. He kept coming up with nothing. The e-mail could’ve been a prank, but his gut was telling him otherwise.

  He was about to give up and heave the CPU against the wall when Sandor sat up straight and said, “Well, I’ll be damned. Grey, you need to look at this.”

  “Did you find it?”

  “Yes, and I also found who sent it.” The gold flames were back again, and dark swirls of energy flowed under the skin on Sandor’s hand as he pointed at the screen.

  “I can’t read it from here, and I’m in no mood for games. Who sent the damned thing?”

  Sandor pointed at the screen. “According to this, you did. Care to explain that?”

  Chapter 4

  Sean flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. Where the fuck was Sandor? The man had promised they’d work out together this afternoon, but so far he was a no-show. Okay, maybe something had come up, but he could’ve at least said so instead of leaving Sean hanging. He would’ve understood. Shit happens.

  Sean had never been any good at waiting, and lately he was a whole lot worse. He held up his hand and stared at the strange swirls of dark blue moving under his skin. Even though he knew that the energy burning there was part of his Kyth nature, it still creeped him out. What kind of freak came with eyes and hands that sported flame jobs?

  Him, for one. Ranulf and Sandor, too, because it was evidently standard equipment for Talions. He was willing to bet that snooty British guy, Grey Danby, had some serious mojo going on. From that first night, Sandor’s burning eyes had totally freaked Sean out, but Danby’s eyes were ice cold, sending shivers down Sean’s spine.

  He was pretty damn sure that if it had been up to Grey, Sean would be dead and buried; he definitely wouldn’t be living in the Dame’s mansion. And all because Sean had lost control of his body’s need for energy. Okay, sure, he’d hurt some regular humans and stripped that last guy of nearly every drop of his life energy. But Sean hadn’t known any better. None of them had.

  He closed his eyes and rested his forearm across his face, blocking out the light—and the memories.

  The burn was getting worse. Maybe he should go find Sandor. Sean was up and out his bedroom before he could change his mind. If worse came to worst, he’d head for the basement gym and lift weights.

  A deep rumble of voices from the front of the house led him straight to Sandor. Unfortunately, he was with Grey Danby. Sean hesitated outside of the office door, debating whether or not to disturb them.

  Deciding Talion business trumped their workout, he started to walk away when Grey appeared in the doorway. The cold-eyed jerk glared at him. “Sean? Why are you sneaking around out here?”

  “I wasn’t sneaking. I was looking for Sandor. To talk to him.”

  Grey stepped back out of the way. “So there he is. Talk.”

  Sandor tore his attention away from the computer screen. When he saw Sean, he looked confused and then checked his watch.

  “God, is it that late already? Sean, I didn’t mean to forget you, but something came up that needed my attention. Mind if we reschedule?”

  Sean did his best to hide his disappointment. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

  “Tomorrow? Same time?”

  “Fine.”

  Sandor smiled. “Good, I’ll look forward to it. And, Sean, I really am sorry I forgot.”

  Grey kept his eyes pinned on Sean, looking suspicious. Did the jerk think he was going to steal something or what? Either way, it was obvious Grey wasn’t happy to be interrupted, especially by him. It was time to get out of there. Sean stalked off, well aware of Grey watching him until he turned the corner.

  Back in his room, Sean kicked the door shut, wishing it was Danby’s face. That guy seriously creeped him out. Something about the way Danby was always watching him, like he was just waiting for Sean to screw up. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Not if Sean could help it. Besides, Sandor wouldn’t let the bastard hurt him. Not now.

  Just then a heavy fist pounded on the door, startling Sean. Maybe Sandor decided to blow Grey off after all.

  But instead of Sandor, big, bad Ranulf Thorsen filled the doorway. The redheaded giant was only slightly less scary than Danby. So far the man had given the Sean a fair shake, and he trusted him because Sandor did. That didn’t mean Sean didn’t have a healthy respect for the man and his temper.

  Sean stumbled back a couple of steps. “Sorry, sir, I was expecting Sandor.”

  Ranulf nodded. “Yeah, well, he sent me because he didn’t want you to miss your workout. He’s dealing with a computer problem. Let’s go.”

  Holy crap! Sure, he’d been training with Sandor, but he wasn’t ready tangle with someone Ranulf’s size. Not to mention the man had a thousand years of fighting practice, most of it while wearing animal skins and carrying a sword.

  “I’d rather wait for Sandor.”

  Sean’s voice cracked, but he kept his chin up, facing Ranulf head on. It was hard not to squirm under the man’s stony glare, but he did his best.

  “I didn’t hear anyone ask what you’d rather, kid. You agreed to do what you were told. Now prove you’re a man of your word.”

  Ranulf didn’t wait to see if Sean was following. He knew Sean wouldn’t dare refuse. To back out now would be suicide.

  He followed Ranulf downstairs to the training room. Sandor had posted a chart on the wall for Sean to keep track of his workouts. Knowing what to do, Sean headed for the weight bench and got down to business. He quickly worked up a sweat, thanks in part to a good case of nerves. When he stopped to change positions, Ranulf was standing right behind him.

  “Good form, kid. Do one more set of reps to warm up. You’ll finish the rest of your routine on your own afterward.”

  Afterward? What did that mean? Sean counted off his reps and set the weights back on the rack.

  Ranulf was waiting for him in the center of the room. He’d peeled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. If anything, he looked even bigger bare chested with only that necklace hanging around his neck. He held a sword in a two-handed grip.

  “Is that thing real?” It sure looked like it to Sean’s untrained eyes. Sharp and shiny with a leather-wrapped handle.

  The Viking nodded. “Yes, it is. Old, too. Have you ever fought with a blade?”

&nb
sp; “Yeah, who hasn’t?”

  Ranulf cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. “Want try that again, punk?”

  Sean flushed with embarrassment. “Okay, I’ve used a knife. Once. Nothing anywhere close to that size.”

  But, oh man, he wanted to.

  Clearly reading Sean’s interest, Ranulf stepped closer and held the blade out so he could see it better. “I don’t expect you to master how to fight with it overnight. I do expect you to respect the weapon—and me, which means taking orders without question. Got that?”

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Everything came with a price whether or not he wanted to pay it.

  Ranulf lowered the sword to his side and frowned. Sean recognized the look. He was skating pretty close to pissing off Ranulf big time.

  He dropped his gaze in surrender. “Yes, sir, I got that.”

  After a quick nod of approval, Ranulf offered Sean the sword, pommel first. Sean held the weapon up and stared at it. “You still fight with swords?”

  “Sometimes. Sandor and I both use firearms more often though, so we’ll teach you how to shoot, too. But there’s nothing like fighting with a sword to teach you control. And we both know you need that.”

  It was futile to hope the man hadn’t sensed Sean’s control slipping again. Still, learning how to swing a sword would be a whole lot more fun than endless reps with weights.

  Ranulf picked up another sword, one that seriously dwarfed Sean’s.

  “Stand beside me and do what I do. Ask questions if you don’t understand. I’d rather you learned it right the first time than have to break bad habits.”

  For the next hour, they lunged and retreated, gradually picking up speed. Sean thought his arms were going to fall off when Ranulf finally signaled that it was time to stop, but Sean couldn’t stop grinning as he reluctantly surrendered the sword to Ranulf.

  The Viking smiled back. “Liked that, did you?”

  “Yes, sir, I did. Thank you.” This time the respect came easily, especially because he felt better than he had in a long, long time.

  Ranulf tossed him a towel. “I’ve taught a lot of recruits over the years, Sean. Most do all right with enough practice, but only a few show a real gift for it. I suspect you’re one of the latter.”

  “Really?” Sean asked hopefully.

  “Really,” Ranulf echoed. “One thing, though. Your buddy Sandor really sucks at blades, so you’ll have to work with me.”

  Sam didn’t hesitate. “That would be totally sick!”

  Another voice chimed in. “That means he likes the idea, Ranulf.”

  Neither of them had noticed Sandor come in. On second thought, considering Ranulf’s snarky comment about Sandor’s swordsmanship, the Viking had probably been well aware of Sandor coming down the stairs.

  “Don’t forget that modern English can be a bit of struggle for our ancient friend here.” Sandor winked at Sean, and added, “Especially considering he was around when Middle English was all the latest rage.”

  “Go to hell, Sandor,” Ranulf snarled as he cuffed Sean on the shoulder for snickering. “As for you, recruit, remember, I can make your training challenging or I can make it damn challenging. Got that?”

  Sean rubbed his shoulder but couldn’t help laughing. “Yes, sir! I got that, sir!”

  “Smart ass.”

  “Yes, sir, I am.” Sean danced back out of reach before Ranulf could smack him again. “Now, I’ll get back to my weights.”

  Ranulf disappeared into the shower room while Sandor trailed after Sean. “I wanted to apologize again for missing our appointment.”

  “No sweat.” This time Sean meant it.

  “Good. For now, I need to borrow Ranulf. When you’re done with your routine, get showered and then find Kerry and get a hit of energy. You’ll need it.”

  “Will do.”

  As Sean lifted weights, he noticed Sandor pacing while he waited for Ranulf. He also kept checking his watch and frowning. What had him on edge? Something to do with Lena? Sean hoped not. He liked her, and she obviously made Sandor happy.

  Finally, Ranulf came out, back in his usual jeans and T-shirt. Sandor pulled him to the side and started talking fast and low. Sean couldn’t make out what he was saying, but whatever it was had Ranulf frowning big time.

  As they walked by, he thought he heard Sandor mention Grey Danby’s name. What was going on with that guy that had Sandor so upset? Whatever it was must be big because Ranulf muttered a string of cusswords as he climbed the stairs two at a time.

  Sean stared after the departing Talions. So he’d been right about Danby being a problem. Well, he’d keep an eye on the man from now on. Sean might not be a Talion warrior—not yet anyway—but he had street smarts. Whatever the guy was up to, he wasn’t going to get away with it. These people had been good to Sean and his friends, giving them the first real home any of them known in years. He wasn’t about to let some uptight jerk screw that up.

  Grey’s cell phone lit up and started vibrating. One glance at the number on the screen and he knew he wouldn’t answer it. The last thing he needed right now was to listen to Harcourt’s long list of demands. Grey had bigger problems right now than an aristocrat with aspirations to greatness.

  The phone went silent for a grand total of ten seconds before starting up again. Obviously Harcourt was in no mood to leave a message, and he couldn’t rant and rave nearly as well in an e-mail. Grey stuffed the phone in his top desk drawer and kept working.

  He hadn’t sent that damn e-mail no matter what the record showed. Sandor tried to act as if he’d believed Grey, but then he’d gone off looking for Ranulf. Grey had no idea what Sandor thought.

  The real question, of course, was who did send the e-mail? And why to Piper Ryan? Was the threat directed at her? He pulled her file out of the drawer and started through it again, this time looking for any hint of trouble in her past.

  There wasn’t much to find. Maybe the gaps in her history were legitimate, but in light of the e-mail, Grey wasn’t willing to take the chance. The missing bits and pieces might add up to a security risk for the Dame and her entire household.

  Grey shot off an e-mail to an investigator he knew and asked him to dig into Piper’s past with the biggest shovel he owned. Remembering the man’s talent for ferreting out a person’s deepest, darkest secrets, Grey knew he’d have his answers about Piper soon.

  Damn, the phone was buzzing again. The drawer only muffled the sound, and Harcourt was self-centered enough to keep calling until Grey answered.

  Might as well get it over with. Grey yanked the drawer open. Maybe he could get some real work down while the man ranted.

  “Yes, Harcourt, what is it now?”

  The man sputtered at Grey’s response. “It’s about time you answered, Danby. I’m still waiting for that report you promised me.”

  Grey closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Harcourt, I made no such promise. You demanded that I keep you informed. If, and only if, something comes up that affects you, I’ll let you know. And I won’t even do that much if it betrays my oath to Dame Kerry.”

  “She has no business being Dame.”

  Grey was tired of hearing the same old litany from the elitist bastard. “That doesn’t change the facts, does it? Judith chose her to rule the Kyth and provided her with the knowledge to do so. You may not like it, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Now leave me alone and let me get back to work.”

  “Yes, well, we’ll see how long you manage to keep that job.”

  When the phone went blessedly silent, Grey hit the power button to turn it off. If anyone else wanted to talk to him, they could leave a message. He’d had enough for one day.

  “Grey?”

  He looked up from his laptop to see Kerry standing in the doorway. Crap, had she heard any of that? He hoped not, but she was good at hiding her thoughts. Force of habit made him rising to his feet, but he managed to stop short of bowing. Casual was definitely not his strong suit.

/>   His Dame shook her head and sighed. “I don’t mean to drive you crazy, Grey. I figure I’ll get used to being bowed to about the time you get used to not doing it.”

  Her rueful smile matched his own. “It’ll prove interesting to see which one of us wins that particular race.”

  Grey laughed. “That it will. Was there something you needed?”

  “Not really. I just wanted to let you know that dinner is ready.” She held up her hand before he could protest. “And yes, I know it’s Hughes’s job to announce it, but I wanted to see if anything came of that e-mail Piper got.”

  “No, no viruses.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad you were here to handle it for us.”

  Grey followed her out the door, noting that she accepted his assessment at face value. He wondered if Sandor and Ranulf were as trusting. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now except wait to see what happened next.

  The two of them were the last to arrive to dinner. Sandor and Lena were on the far side of the table with Sean beside them. Ranulf was at the foot of the table and Kerry took her place at the head, leaving Grey the one remaining seat next to Tara and Kenny.

  Hughes must have been hovering in the other doorway because by the time they were all seated, he was already carrying the food to the table. As the various platters made their way around, Grey noticed that Sean was watching his every move. It was easy to sense the boy’s hostility, but he wondered about the reason for it.

  Grey waited until everyone else was listening to Lena talk about her plans to find a job and then met Sean’s glare head on. Talions might wear a thin veneer of civilized behavior, but they were all predators at heart. And Grey wouldn’t look away until the kid either blinked or backed off. It didn’t take long.

  Sean obviously didn’t like it, not one bit. Too bad. The last thing Grey wanted was some punk challenging his authority. The only downside was that Sandor had picked up on the exchange. Damn it, now Sandor would think Grey was picking on his protégé, but the dinner table wasn’t the place for explanations. It would have to wait.

  Piper had hoped to beat Grey to work again, but his car was already parked in front of the house when the bus dropped her off. Despite her aggravation with him yesterday, she’d concentrated on studying enough to feel confident about her test. But once she no longer had that to keep her distracted, she kept returning to Grey’s parting shot as she’d left his car.