by Rach Elle
Joining this clan took a lot of soul searching, but ultimately they did it to thwart the prophecy. They knew BeStone could get them close enough to the heart of the matter so they could stop it before it even began. Their childhood may have been pathetic, but at least they had one to speak of. Now they were going to save the world to ensure others could say the same.
Augmen took a deep breath as he stared into his little brother’s blue eyes, “You’re right,” he conceded in a low voice, “He’s not worth it.”
Parag puffed out his chest in anger.
“Enough,” Viattrice demanded. She eyed the brothers and Parag violently. “Use your time wisely; prepare like warriors. For tomorrow night we find Awilda Rose.”
18
London, England…
Sunders Harper entered the United Financial building three hours later than usual. As he made his way through the main floor lobby he tried to dodge any run-ins, distractions and loud noises. He cursed his self for the amount of scotch he consumed the night before. It was a lot; even for him. He ended up sleeping straight through his alarm. But even with the extra sleep his head was throbbing, his stomach was nauseous and he could barely form a complete thought without straining. One good thing did come from it though; he’d slept right through his usual blind date with his mystery jogger who, as of yesterday, was no longer a mystery.
Sunders released a sigh of relief as the elevator doors opened to the fourth floor. The noise level was normal for a typical Friday. He figured the Protectors were all upstairs in the gym trying to prove who had the higher testosterone levels. He rolled his eyes at the thought and headed down the main corridor. Once he reached the knob to his office a smile appeared on his face. This was his favorite moment; the moment when he was hung over – or sometimes still a little drunk – and just about to enter the sanctity of his office. His cave; a reprieve from the rest of the world.
Sunders took a calming breath and soaked in the moment as he turned the knob and triumphantly entered his office. “Whoa!” He stopped short, his eyes wide behind his dark glasses. Standing at the filing cabinets behind his desk was Rue. She was bent at the waist, placing folders into a drawer. Her apple shaped bum, hugged by her skinny jeans, sat prominently atop her long legs; greeting him. She looked over her shoulder at the sound of his voice. “Oh, hey,” she called as she finished putting the files away. She closed the drawer and stood up straight.
Sunders had never been so grateful for his hangover glasses. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from Rue’s backside. The shape and firmness didn’t go away as she stood. His mind raced to the image of her running by his flat in her short shorts; the very bottom of her cheeks peering below the fabric with each step.
Rue turned to face Sunders, “I was just finishing up some filing.”
Sunders nodded and finally managed to speak, “Good; alright.”
His eyes drifted upward, hoping to make it all the way to her face, but soon realized his efforts were futile once he reached her chest. She was wearing a baggy, white tank top that showed off her sculpted arms. The neckline hung so low she needed to wear a black spaghetti strap underneath it just to keep from flashing everyone. Still, her smooth, silky cleavage sat on display.
“Well,” she began, “I’ll get out of your way.” She took a step further before realizing the lace on her combat boot had come undone. She lowered to the ground and leaned forward to tie it, allowing Sunders a cleavage shot that could convert a heathen. She finished tying her lace and stood back up before heading for the door.
Sunders allowed her to pass before even attempting to move. He didn’t want any accidental touching or brushing up against one another. He reached his desk and sat down.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Rue pivoted and approached the desk. She leaned over and grabbed a sticky note and a pen. She bent forward and rested her elbows on the desk as she wrote her phone number on the note.
Sunders nearly vomited. His head was already swimming and now he had a front row seat to ‘Rue’s Girls’; a masochistic comedy about a man that would do just about anything to bang his employee but has too much alcohol in his system to muster a woody.
Rue finished writing her number, “Here’s my cell. Call me before you get to my house so I can meet you outside. I don’t want my roommate going all Fatal Attraction on you or anything.”
“Get to your house?” Sunders managed to bite out.
“Yeah, for apartment hunting; or as you Europeans call it, flat hunting.” She chuckled at the sound of the English lingo coming from her mouth. “Alright then,” she shrugged, “I guess I’ll get back to work.” She turned and left the office.
Sunders sat alone in the silence for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. He hated how aroused he was, even though by looking at him no one would ever know it. He cursed his self for thinking of Rue and staring at her the way he did. It was wrong. She was his subordinate. He’d always thought she was attractive. He’d admired her from afar on more than one occasion, but something was different now. He had always managed to keep his impure thoughts about her innocent and naive. That was, until he realized she was his mystery runner. Now suddenly all those images and scenarios he’d conjured up with no holds barred as he watched her run down his street plagued his mind. He couldn’t look at her in her standard work attire without wanting to rip it off her body. He couldn’t be near her as she performed her everyday, mundane tasks without wanting to throw her on top of his desk and mount her. He was getting dangerously close to wanting to pursue her, and that scared him more than anything. If there was one thing Sunders Harper was, it was in control of his own self. But for some reason when he was around Rue he felt completely reckless; a speeding Mac truck on a sheet of ice.
Sunders stood from his chair and exited his office. He crossed the hall and knocked on the opposite door twice before slowly pushing his way inside.
“Bill,” Sunders called, “we need to talk.”
19
“Are you two going to fight again?” Alvin asked from the sofa. He and Mason watched as Zeff entered the living room wearing nothing but a pair of fighting shorts and tape wrapped around his wrists and ankles.
“No,” he said as he grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the wet bar, “Just training today.”
“Well, you let us know when you’re going for round two.”
“Why? So you don’t run off and almost get yourselves killed; again.” Zeff pinned the two boys with a condescending glare from behind his scar. He crossed the living room, his shoulder length blonde hair bouncing with every step. He entered the ballroom to see Junior reaching the bottom of the staircase. He threw a bottle of water at the shirtless, tattooed shifter and the two of them headed for the study.
Once in the study Zeff latched onto the elongated knob of the door to the forgotten storage room. “How long do you think we’ll go today?” He asked casually.
Junior shrugged, “It’s up to you. I wasn’t the one impaled a week ago.”
Zeff shot him an eye roll, “I already told you; I’m one hundred percent. No need to take it easy on me, mate.”
“Let’s just play it by ear, what the?”
The two shifters stood in the doorway and stared into the center of the forgotten storage room. On the old dirty, chipped marble floor laid Awilda Rose. They quietly entered the room and approached her.
As Junior moved closer and closer he could see that Awilda had her head resting on an open book. From the looks of it the book was one she borrowed from Sunders: The Complete Works by Arav Dave. She had it opened to the middle of The Ultimate War. His shoulders slumped at the sight of the poor girl. She had been up all night, desperately searching for some sort of answer; and fell asleep in the process.
“You want to take her upstairs or should I?” Zeff asked in a hushed whisper.
Junior wanted more than anything to do the honors. He wanted to pick her up in his arms and carry her upstairs before placing her in her bed and draping the
covers over her fragile body. “Be my guest,” he croaked.
He watched as Zeff did everything he wished he could do. He lifted Awilda and positioned her body so it lay perfectly in the crook of his arms. She even stirred slightly, turning her head inward to press against his bare chest. His heart broke as he watched Zeff exit the forgotten storage room.
Junior could feel his blood pumping and his breathing beginning to race. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he clenched his fists and grinded his teeth. He quickly headed to the back of the room and without stopping first to put on a glove he punched the heavy bag as hard as he could; sending the thing swinging backward and crushing his knuckles. As the bag came back to him he stopped it in place, feeling the physical pain in his hand and the emotional pain in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and rested his forehead against the bag, cursing his self for feeling so helpless around Awilda. So helpless he couldn’t go near her; and too helpless to avoid the war that was coming. He had lived every day these past couple of weeks with an exuberant amount of blind faith. But ever since that night on the hotel rooftop; seeing Awilda face off against the storm of evil that hovered above him and threatened to swallow him whole; that faith had begun to dwindle. Day by day, hour by hour; until he was nearly devoid of any faith at all.
Junior muffled a sob as fear ravaged his body. It was coming; the inevitable day when he would have to make a choice and possibly put an end to the beautiful Awilda Rose.
20
Rue sat at her desk listening to Corey talk about his college days. He was about five years younger than her and had just graduated only three years ago; so those years were still fresh in his mind. Rue, on the other hand, could barely remember that life. Then again, not only had she not finished her college education, but the whole thing had been ripped from her so quickly she’d blocked most of it out of her mind anyway.
Corey continued to ramble as Rue observed his features. He was clean cut; looked like he’d never been in a fight. She was pretty sure a paper cut was the extent of his war stories. He had dirty brown hair that he wore slicked back and a small amount of stubble along his jaw line. His eyes were hazel and overpowered by his bushy brows, and his physique was thin yet toned. As per usual he was wearing a plaid tee with an alligator toothed necklace hanging below the collar of his shirt. His khaki pants were loose around the legs but fit him snugly at the waist and his right wrist was decorated with brown leather bands. He was handsome in a young, boy band sort of way. And hey, he actually cared to talk to her. Between him and the conversation she’d had with Sunders in the break room yesterday, one would think she was actually liked around here.
Corey paused for a moment to take a sip of his soda.
“So how did you get started with the Dark Angel Alliance?” Rue asked before he had a chance to go into another story about how he was on the dean’s list.
Corey shrugged, “I was poached, I guess.”
“Poached?”
“Yeah, you know; they came to me, not the other way around. I guess they heard of some of my work or something. I was read in meteorology at university.”
“Like, to be a weatherman?” Rue crooked a brow.
“Not specifically, but that was one route I could have gone. I was more interested in climate control; understanding Mother Nature and being able to harness it. But then this gig came along and I decided to join. The rest is history.”
“Why are you on this team?”
“What do you mean?” Corey asked in his youthful English accent.
“This team focuses on dry land creatures. From what I understand the patterns and signs to look for have less to do with the weather and more to do with disappearances and monster sightings. If your focus was meteorology, shouldn’t you have been placed on Jenna’s supernatural team? Or at the very least, Roderick’s water based mythology team.”
Corey nodded as he took in her words, “I guess I never really gave it much thought. This was just where I landed, I suppose.”
Rue looked away and locked eyes on her computer screen. The screensaver consisting of a ball bouncing from one side to the next continued to play. The air conditioning kicked in and a sudden blast of cold air filled the small office space. She shivered and reached behind her to grab her black hoodie that had been draped over the back of her chair. She began putting the zippered sweater on.
“Are you leaving?” Corey asked; a hint of panic mingling with his voice.
“No,” Rue furrowed her brow, “just cold.”
“Oh, good,” he said under his breath.
Rue studied Corey for a moment. He looked nervous and was suddenly very quiet. “Is something on your mind?” She asked.
After a moment of silence Corey took a deep breath. He raised his hazel eyes to meet hers. “Would you like to have dinner with me some time?”
Rue was completely stunned. She didn’t see that one coming. She figured this boy was so much in love with himself that he didn’t have the room to care about someone else. She was both flattered and taken aback.
As she sat in her rolling computer chair she watched the boy sitting one cubicle away. He seemed so innocent and sweet. She didn’t have the heart to say no to him. Plus, she didn’t exactly have much experience with letting men down gently. She would probably say something completely out of line or ridiculous and send the poor guy into a tailspin of depression. Not to mention the fact that he was one of the only people that actually gave her the time of day around here. She wasn’t ready to burn that bridge.
Instead of verbally agreeing to a date and risking the chance of sounding insincere, she just smiled a closed mouth grin and nodded.
Corey exhaled a breath of relief, “Bloody excellent.”
The door to the office opened and Bill Maines poked his head inside. “Rue,” he began, “May I see you for a moment?”
Rue closed herself in Bill’s office as the man took his seat behind his desk. He motioned for her to accept the chair on the other side. Hesitantly, she did. She had never been called into a manger’s office before, but that was mostly because the Protector leaders didn’t have offices. When they wanted to meet with the team they set up meetings in abandoned warehouses. When they wanted to meet with you alone it was usually somewhere quiet, yet public; like a coffee shop. That way they could speak almost freely without the fear of their subordinate making a scene when they were done being reprimanded. Rue had seen the inside of many coffee shops throughout the U.S.
But the Finders worked differently, she was gathering. They didn’t need to make arrangements for meetings. They were already in a secure, central location; much easier. In order to reprimand someone all you would need to do is call them into your office. As she sat in an uncomfortable chair, looking upon the aged Bill Maines, she tried to think of what she could have possibly done wrong this time. After all, she had never been singled out by a manager just for a pat on the back.
“Rue,” Bill began, folding his hands on his desk; his slightly chubby fingers intertwining. “I think it would be a good idea if you were to join Roderick’s team from now on.”
“What?” Rue asked, surprised. “Why?”
“I feel that you would be better suited. Besides, Sunders has all the Protector help he needs with his current investigation. Rod could use some new blood.”
“I don’t understand,” Rue shook her head, confused. “I came here specifically to be placed on the dry land team.”
Bill shrugged with his hands, unclasping them only temporarily for effect, “Plans change.”
“Does Mr. Harper know you’re doing this? Because I thought I was fitting into his team pretty well.”
“From my understanding you’ve been doing nothing but busy work. At least on Rod’s team you can really be an asset. They’ve come up short at every turn in regards to that explosion in the states.”
Rue sat still, conflicted. She had originally wanted to be a part of that investigation; and had assumed the case would be given to Sunder
s Harper. The explosion happened, after all, on dry land, and had nothing to do with the supernatural or climate change or water mythology. But of course Harper had to go and have a breakthrough in his own investigation just in time for the case to be delegated to Roderick’s team.
She remembered being pissed off about the whole thing. That Scotsman hadn’t found a single thing in years and now the one time she actually needed him specifically to work a case he had to go and stumble upon the find of the century. The question now was why he was continuing this investigation when she knew very well he had already found what he was looking for.
Regardless, with the fact that he wasn’t truly preoccupied with finding his gargoyles anymore she figured she could steer him in the direction of the facility explosion case. True, the man hadn’t had much luck in the past several years with locating monsters, but there was a time when he was regarded as the greatest Finder the division had ever seen. She needed that on her side. Now she was being kicked off his team altogether.
“Who is my replacement?” She heard herself ask.
“No one,” Bill was clearly growing agitated at the fact that she refused to just accept his word as gospel. “He needs experienced team members; he and Corey. You would just slow him down.”
Rue narrowed her eyes, “I don’t think I’m slowing him down.”
“His words; not mine.”
Rue’s breath caught, “What?” Her voice was suddenly so small.
“I’m sorry, but he needs to concentrate; you’re a distraction.”
She didn’t want to believe it. She and Sunders had actually started getting along. He offered to help her go house hunting, for fuck’s sake. Now he was turning her away; handing her off like a defective toy. She couldn’t quite comprehend the pain she was feeling in her chest. It was like someone had hurt her feelings and then stabbed her with a knife dipped in hot sauce just to prove their point. Fuck. She hated this feeling of vulnerability. She supposed anyone else would have cried like a girl, but she refused to even entertain the idea.