Dangerously Fierce (The Broken Riders Book 3)

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Dangerously Fierce (The Broken Riders Book 3) Page 8

by Deborah Blake


  What the hell was he talking about? “What do you mean, not your job anymore? Did you used to work with oceanographers or something? How was tracking sea monsters possibly your job?”

  But he just grunted at her and gouged a large chunk of wood out of the chair leg he was working on, sending it flying through the air to land in someone’s mug. Bethany sighed and gave up for now, reminding herself yet again that the big man was Not Her Problem as she went to get the poor guy staring into his beer a new mug.

  She had watched her mother practically twist herself into a pretzel for years, trying to please a man who was determined to be discontented. Hell, Bethany had done it herself for the first couple of years after her mom lost her battle with the cancer. Bethany was still a teen, trying to fulfill a deathbed promise that it would have taken a saint crossed with a fairy godmother to achieve. It had taken her a long time to realize that you can’t make someone happy if they are set on being miserable; all you can do was make yourself miserable too.

  Then she’d spent another few years dating men who were so undemanding, they were practically catatonic. That hadn’t been much better, although it was less exhausting. But at least it was better than beating your head against a brick wall over and over again.

  Bethany liked Alexei - hell, if circumstances were different, maybe more than liked him. But there was no way she was going to turn into her mother. If the man wanted to sit in the corner and brood, she had better things to do than try and talk him out of it. All those drinks weren’t going to pour themselves.

  * * *

  Len had been out to sea every day for a week, trying to get the damned talisman to work for him again and failing miserably. He’d done everything he could think of to recreate the moment it had called up the monster, but nothing had worked. If it weren’t for the solitary gold coin, hidden securely under his mattress, he would probably have decided he’d imagined the entire thing.

  Just his luck. He had finally caught the break he deserved, only to have it let him down. Figured. Wasn’t that always the way?

  He staggered home from the dive bar he frequented, pretty sure he’d been running his mouth off when he shouldn’t have been, but equally certain that none of those cretins had believed a word he said anyway, when he suddenly became aware that he was being followed. Or at least, that there was a set of loud footsteps echoing his own. If someone was following him, they weren’t being subtle about it. Len wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.

  He stopped under the street light closest to his house, leaning against it slightly for support, and turned around. “Come on out, whoever you are,” he said. “I don’t know what you want, but I got nothin’ worth stealin’, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  A man stepped out of the shadows and took a confident step in Len’s direction. “No worries, my boy. I don’t mean you any harm. In fact, I think we might have some business together that will benefit us both.”

  Ah, someone who needed a smuggler. That would explain why the guy followed him, instead of approaching him in public.

  Len peered blearily into the darkness. The man was a stranger, an odd-looking fellow with a faintly menacing air. He was large - burly, tall, and wide - with a third of his head shaved and the rest with straight graying hair combed over so it dropped to the edge of his chin, along with a slightly wild beard, hooked nose, and cold gray-silver eyes. Gold hoops hung from each ear and tattoos peeked out from the top of his navy pea coat and on the skin of his wrists. As he took another step forward and lifted a pipe to his mouth and lit it, Len spotted one on each finger, which read Black on one hand and Beard on the other. Smoke drifted toward him on the night wind, smelling like cold iron and bitter ashes.

  Ha, Len said to himself. Another guy who grew up wanting to be a pirate. Len thought maybe the fellow had taken the look a bit too far, but he wasn’t about to say so out loud. Not if the guy was a paying customer.

  “What can I do for you?” Len asked cautiously. The guy looked pretty wild, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t some kind of undercover cop.

  “It is more a matter of what I can do for you,” the man said smoothly, taking another step forward. For a second, Len thought he saw a huge shadow of something with a long spiky tail stretching out into the night, but another step brought the bearded man into the shining circle of illumination from the street light and the illusion disappeared.

  Still, the hair stood up on the back of Len’s neck. “I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s late and I’m tired, and whatever it is you’re selling, I’m not in the mood to buy. So buzz off.”

  “Buzz off?” the man repeated, sounding puzzled.

  Len swayed, holding on to the lamp post. What was this guy, stupid? “You know. Buzz off. Fly away.”

  The man laughed, a great big guffaw that came up from his belly and shook his whole body, such a natural sound that for some reason it put Len more at ease.

  “Fly away,” the stranger said. “How amusing. You know what would be even more amusing? If I made you wealthy beyond your wildest dreams.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Len said. “I’ve got some pretty wild dreams. And why should I believe you?” He didn’t really think the guy was some kind of cop - he just didn’t have that feel to him. But something was off about him. Mind you, that could be said for most of the people Len knew who sailed on the wrong side of the law.

  “Perhaps because you have something that used to belong to me,” the man said. “An amulet, in the shape of tentacles wrapped around a central stone of mysterious origin. Sound familiar?”

  Len took a step backward, his heart stuttering. “What do you mean it used to belong to you? The thing has been in my family since before my grandfather’s time. There’s no way it’s yours.” He clutched the front of his sweater, where the talisman hung on its chain, tucked underneath his worn flannel shirt.

  “Ah, I misspoke,” the man said. “Of course it could not have been mine. Time is so fluid. I meant it had been in my family for years. Then, alas, it was lost, I thought forever. But I sensed, rather, I heard, that it had come into your possession.” His craggy face twisted with frustration, like an immigrant struggling to speak in a foreign language. “I can help you learn to master its magic.”

  “Magic!” Len snorted. “There is no such thing as magic.”

  “Then how do you explain the monster you called up from the depths with its aid?” The man grinned, showing sharp white teeth that glinted in the glare of the streetlight. “I know how the amulet works. I know how to summon the kraken to sink the ships of your enemies, to bring long lost treasure back to the surface. So much wealth, waiting on the bottom of the sea for the man brave enough to claim it. Are you that man?”

  Long lost treasure. Wealth waiting on the bottom of the sea. Enough to satisfy the Russian mafia for the loss of their product, and still have something left over. The guy might be a little creepy, but he clearly knew about the talisman, so maybe he really did know how to make it work. Len remembered the shine of the gold coin, and longed to see it sitting in a pile of many like it. And let’s face it, there might be something a little off about this guy, but Len was a lot more scared of the Russian mob than he was of some big guy with a strange haircut. “Hell yeah, I’m that man,” he said. “Len Morgan, descendent of pirates,” he said, holding out his hand. “And you are?”

  “Hayreddin, also of the pirate kin. You can call me Red,” the man said, sticking out the hand not holding the pipe. Smoke drifted through his beard and up to wreath around his head. “Together, we shall make the seas run the color of my name, and reap a bounty of gold and precious jewels.”

  “Gold and jewels,” Len said. “Excellent.” And when we’re done, maybe you’ll meet with a terrible accident and fall overboard, so I can take your half and not worry about you running off with my talisman.

  * * *

  “Excellent,” said Hayreddin. Stupid Human. And maybe when I’ve reclaimed my treasure,
I’ll eat you, and spit your bones into the sea. He didn’t quite dare break the Queen’s rules against Paranormal folk influencing the Human world, but if he found a Human who already wanted to do what Red needed, well, that didn’t exactly break the rules. The Fae folk were big on technicalities. He could almost feel his treasure back in his grasp. Finally, it would be his again.

  The queen might punish one who actively used a magical tool in the Human realms…but nothing said he could not get a Human to use it for him. Not one damned thing.

  Chapter 8

  Eventually, Alexei ran out of things to fix around the bar. So he fixed some things at the house, and when he ran out of those, he fixed some things around the guest house. Finally, even Lulu got tired of his banging and leaving wood shavings everywhere.

  “Go do something,” she barked at him one morning, licking her belly restlessly. It was so large, she could no longer get up on the couch easily, and it was making her grumpy. “Go chase a squirrel or a car or something. Mate with the woman. Do something. You make me crazy.”

  Alexei could feel his ears turn red. “I am not going to mate with the woman. Bethany. She doesn’t even like me.” He put down the pipe wrench he’d been holding and stared out the window in the direction of the house. “And I don’t like her,” he added, belatedly.

  “Liar,” Lulu said in a fond tone, or what Alexei interpreted as one. He wasn’t really sure how he knew. Assuming he hadn’t lost his mind. He still hadn’t had any other animals talk to him.

  “Fine,” he said. “I like her. She stands up to me. I find that endearing. But still, no mating. I’m leaving soon.”

  “Humans always make things more big trouble than they are,” Lulu said, turning around three times before settling into a lumpy heap on the rug. “But have it your way. Go do something else, then. Or nap. Napping is good. Napping, mating, eating. But not the noisy around the house things. Do something outside.”

  Great, even the dog didn’t want him around. Alexei sighed. He had to admit, she had a point. He was getting tired of his own brooding. And he was Russian, so that really said something. So he wasn’t a Rider anymore. That didn’t mean he couldn’t at least go take a look around. Right? Maybe there was some simple, non-Paranormal answer to the monster sighting and the disappearing sea creatures. And if there was something more to it, maybe it would at least give him something to fight.

  Even Bethany couldn’t object to him fighting a monster.

  He walked over to the house, helping himself to a cup of coffee as he walked through the kitchen. It was Sunday, so the bar was closed. He’d come over first thing to get Calum up and dressed, then left the old sailor and Bethany alone. From the glares that met him as he walked into the living room, perhaps that hadn’t been such a smart move.

  “Tell this stubborn woman that I don’t have to do any more exercises today,” Calum said. A scowl made his scruffy face even more homely than usual. “I already did them.”

  “That was yesterday. Yesterday’s exercises don’t count. You know the doctor said you have to do them every day.” Bethany’s scowl matched her father’s, although Alexei thought it looked a lot cuter on her. Even he wasn’t stupid enough to say so out loud, though.

  “Do you still own a boat, Calum?” he asked instead.

  Both faces turned their scowls in his direction.

  “What’s it to you?” Calum asked, at the same time Bethany said, “How is that helpful?”

  Alexei rolled his eyes. “So that’s a yes or a no?”

  “Yes, I have a boat,” Calum said. “Smaller than the one I sold to buy the bar, but I used to still go out fishing sometimes. Just for fun.” He banged the side of his wheelchair with his closed fist. “Might as well sell this one too, since I’ll never go out on it again.”

  “Never say never,” Alexei said. “How about you do your exercises, and promise to do them every day this week without being such a cantankerous old bastard about it, and I take you out on the boat later?”

  “What? Are you insane?” Bethany put her hands on her hips.

  “Jury’s still out on that one,” Alexei admitted. “But I don’t see any reason why your father can’t go out on the water for a bit, if he misses it. I can handle a boat.” That was one of the benefits of a long, long life - eventually, you get good at just about everything you have any interest in. “Come with us, if you don’t trust me to handle both him and the boat. We can leave the chair on the dock and I’ll just carry him around on board.”

  Since Alexei had been carrying Calum in and out of the bathroom, bed, and numerous other places with ease, Bethany could hardly argue with him.

  “Well…”

  “Are you serious?” Calum’s face brightened for the first time since Alexei had met him. “You’d take me out on the ocean for the day?”

  “For a few hours, maybe, dad. Not the whole day.” But Alexei could tell Bethany saw the longing in her father’s eyes.

  She bit her lip. “You’ll do your exercises? And listen to me and Alexei out on the boat, even though you’ll want to do everything yourself because you know better?”

  Calum laughed, displaying rarely used smile lines running through the deep groves worn by pain and unhappiness. “To get back to the sea, I’d let you dress me in pink and call me a pig, darlin’.”

  Bethany’s lips quirked up in answer to her father’s rare good humor. “Well, I don’t think that will be necessary, dad. But don’t think I’m not tempted.”

  * * *

  They spent a pleasant few hours out on the boat, which was as old and worn as its owner, but in much better shape. Calum, once he was comfortably ensconced in a seat on the aft side, a blanket tucked around his legs and a thermos of coffee at his elbow, contently ordered Alexei and Bethany around as if they were his crew. Bethany took it surprisingly well, probably used to it from a childhood spent on her father’s boats.

  Alexei followed orders cheerfully, just happy to be out in the fresh air again, doing something more active than carving a table leg or mending a crooked cabinet. The pregnant dog had been right, damn it. He wasn’t made for sitting around.

  The wind in his face made him nostalgic for his days riding his motorcycle across the country. He’d loved the feeling of freedom he’d gotten, even back in the old, old days in Russia when it had been an enchanted horse, covering the miles much faster than any normal equine could. It had transformed itself to keep up with modern times, much as the Baba Yagas and their huts did, but to Alexei, it was still his faithful steed. Maybe it was time to saddle up again and ride, even if he didn’t know where he was going or what he’d do when he got there.

  A musical giggle rang out across the boat as Bethany teased her father about something Alexei couldn’t make out from where he stood. The sound seemed to call forth an answering chime in his chest and he laughed for no particular reason other than happiness in the moment.

  Bethany glanced in his direction and grinned, her red hair blowing wild in the breeze and her eyes alight with pleasure instead of their usual shadows of worry and responsibility.

  Maybe the motorcycle would have to wait for just a little longer.

  Not because of her, of course. Although there had been a moment earlier when a random wave had rocked the boat and knocked them together. He’d put his arm around her to steady them, and it had felt oddly…right. That was be foolish, since there was no chance of a future between a broken Rider with a hidden past and nothing to offer anyone and a feisty Human who lived her entire life out in the open with her heart on her sleeve. But he couldn’t just abandon her and her father until they got another aide from the agency. Besides, there was a mystery to solve.

  Mind you, he hadn’t spotted anything interesting or helpful all day, but maybe now that Calum had watched Alexei handle the boat, he’d let Alexei take it out again on his own. It would be better with two people, one to steer and one to keep watch, but Bethany would be busy with the bar the rest of the week, so he’d just have to manag
e.

  With that in mind, Alexei was extra careful steering back into harbor, keeping all his attention on the task at hand so that he docked the boat back in her berth with nary a bump or bobble. Which is probably why he didn’t see what was waiting for him on shore.

  “Alexei! Alexei!” an excited cry greeted him as he carried Calum off the boat and deposited him gently onto his waiting wheelchair.

  “Who’s that?” asked Bethany, an odd look on her face.

  Alexei glanced up and saw a gorgeous blonde racing down the dock in his direction, her long hair streaming out behind her. At first he thought he must be mistaken, since the only woman he knew who looked like that should be all the way across the country, on the California coast. But then he saw the gigantic black Newfoundland bounding along in her wake. There was only one pair in the world like that.

  “Beka!” he shouted, forgetting for a moment that he was hiding out from all his friends in shame and sorrow, and simply reacting to the joy of seeing her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I might ask you the same thing, you great big idiot,” the blonde said, throwing her arms around him. “No one has heard from you since you left. We’ve all been worried sick.”

  Obviously Gregori hadn’t told the others Alexei had called. Of course, Gregori always was the honorable one. If he said he wouldn’t tell, his lips were sealed. “Hey, I sent postcards,” Alexei protested, hugging her back. “Some of them even had pretty pictures on them.”

  “Most of them smelled like beer,” said the Newfoundland, wrinkling his nose. Of course, to anyone else it would have sounded just like barking, since the dog was really a Chudo Yudo - a Baba Yaga’s dragon companion - in disguise, and could make himself understood, or not, to whomever he chose.

  “Nice to see you too, Chewie.” Alexei bent down and scratched the dragon-dog behind the ears. He didn’t have to bend far, since Chewie came up to his waist. “What on earth are you two doing on this coast?”

 

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