by Evi Asher
The group started to dissipate, but there were a few boys who hung around and Grave saw the familiar look of hero worship in their eyes. He’d experienced it before, and he didn’t mind. He liked to teach the young, and he’d even considered taking a position at the school, but in the end he’d been too restless and got himself in trouble instead.
“Go on. Get! Grave and I have business. You can nag him with questions later if he’s still around.”
The boys looked disappointed, but they left.
No one disobeyed Cain. Ever.
“Now... ” Cain turned to Grave, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t call, you don’t write, then you show up needing help with something?”
Grave grinned. Cain had a wry sense of humor that came out at the strangest times. “I know. I’m the worst protégé ever.”
Cain laughed and slapped Grave on the back. “Let’s walk and talk. Training the boys always makes me need to consume copious amounts of calories afterwards.”
They started across the lawn that led to the back door of the building and the kitchens.
“Does Clementine still work in the kitchens?” Grave asked.
“Oh yes, and if she had her way, I’d be as fat as an elephant.” Cain chuckled.
“Well at least I know I’m going to be well fed.”
“Now, tell me. I’m curious, what do you need help with,” Cain asked.
“It’s got to do with my curse.”
Cain paled. He had been with Grave when Grave had the curse placed on him. He’d said it was an unfair punishment and had fought for Grave, but ultimately they’d both lost.
Cain lost his ability to go out and collect souls, which was something he used to do in his down time because he enjoyed interacting with souls, and Grave, because of the curse, had to kill whomever he had sex with.
Cain spoke in a soft voice. “That bitch is going to rot in Hell when someone finally takes her head, and it’s only a matter of time. She’s always causing trouble for others.”
Grave felt the muscles along his spine tense up. The last person he wanted to discuss was the woman who had been instrumental in getting the curse laid down on his head, and all because he wouldn’t bow to her whims. Spoiled brat was the kindest thing he could call her.
“Let’s not talk about her.”
“Grave, she accused you of rape, something the high council believed, thanks to her manipulations.” Cain stopped walking, then spoke further when Grave turned to face him. “Your punishment was to be cursed to never be able to be with a woman again. Should you have sex, and you first penetrate, the woman in your arms will die. Then they will have you on murder and they can execute you.”
Grave clenched his teeth together so hard, he thought they might break. “I said I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered.
“And ignoring it will make it go away?” Cain was adamant.
Grave looked up at his mentor, and there must have been something in his expression, something broken, because the other male looked down.
“Very well. I will drop the subject.” Cain started walking again, then changed the subject.
“Okay, so tell me, what does your problem have to do with your curse?”
“While I was working for the oracle, a group of immortals came to her, or rather she made them come. She needed help with a problem she had. There were two phoenix females with them.”
Cain stopped again and turned to Grave, his mouth open in surprise. “No, there is no such thing. They died off centuries ago.”
“Yeah, not so much.” He kept walking.
They reached the kitchen doors and Grave pulled them open. Cain frowned, but stepped through the entrance ahead of Grave.
He led the way to the cafeteria and went to the back table where he’d always sat when not training the boys.
Grave pulled out a chair and sat down. There were no benches at this particular table. Even though Cain had an office, he spent more time working here than in his very nice workplace. He’d always said he loved the sound of the students around him. Grave agreed. Even now, the cafeteria had more than a few boys in it.
Two were arm wrestling while another five cheered on their favorite to win.
“Back to the phoenixes, and I’m going to ignore the fact that they are supposed to be extinct and listen to what you have to say.”
“One of the phoenix... ” Grave couldn’t finish. What did he want to say? How could he describe Athera?
She made him frustrated and annoyed, and hot and in need, and he wanted to pin her to the nearest wall, strip her down and taste her skin.
He wanted her nails leaving marks along the muscles of his back. He wanted her screaming his name, and that was his problem.
“Don’t have to say it, Grave. It’s written all over your face. You want her.”
Grave closed his eyes and took a breath.
“In the worst way.”
“Ignore that need. You have more willpower than most.”
Grave let out a humorless bark of laughter.
“She won’t let me, Cain. She sees me and turns into the world’s best seductress. Who would have thought a virgin could seduce so well?”
“She’s a virgin, too?”
A cold line of fear went up Grave’s spine, along with a flash of jealousy.
“She was the last time I saw her, and she’d better damn well still be a virgin now.”
A warm laugh rumbled from Cain’s chest. “You have it bad, my friend.”
Grave put his elbows on the table and dropped his face into his hands. His words, “I know,” came out muffled.
“So what does the virgin phoenix have to do with your problem?”
Grave lifted his head to look at his friend. “I have to protect her from Nexanthon.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”
“So what are you asking me?”
“Get me a replacement, your best reaper warrior, and send him to make sure she’s safe.”
Cain was shaking his head before Grave finished speaking.
“No can do, and you know it.”
“Cain—”
Cain held up a hand, stopping Grave mid thought. “Cerise gave you this task, am I right?”
“Yeah.” Grave felt trapped.
“Then you know I can’t replace you with anyone else. You of all people know what happens when you disobey the oracle.”
“You get sucked into her service until she decides to let you out.”
“Yeah, and as much as I would like to help you out here, I’ve got two—no three—reasons why I won’t.”
Cain held up his index finger. “One, Cerise would eat my balls for breakfast.”
“Coward.” Grave said it without much venom. He actually agreed with Cain’s appraisal of the situation. Cerise would have a major temper tantrum if he were replaced in this task.
Cain ignored the insult. “Two! I don’t think you really want to be replaced.”
Grave started to sputter a denial, and then thought about it.
He didn’t have his duffel with him. If he’d really thought he was going to leave, he would have taken his bag with him, right? It was lying on the bed in the room he’d been given.
“What’s the third reason?” he asked, resigned to the fact that he would have to suck it up and deal with Athera.
“You are the best warrior I have. No one else could pull this task off with any hope of success.”
That was a vote of confidence, if he’d ever heard one.
“But, feel free to come if you need any help. I won’t deny you that, even if I deny you a replacement.”
Grave released a sigh of resignation. “Thank you. Now, tell me how I’m going to stop myself having sex with the demanding vixen and saving her from dying by me instead of Nexanthon.”
The low chuckle again. “That, my friend, I can’t help you with. I wouldn’t wish woman trouble on my worst enemy.”
Grave snorte
d. “Like you’ve had woman trouble.”
“Exactly, and that’s the way I’m going to keep it—uncomplicated and easy. Women are worse than a badly maintained weapon. Trouble looking for a place to explode.”
Grave laughed this time. “And if one ever heard you say something like that, you’d be flat on your ass with a bitch slap mark across your cheek.”
“Never going to have to deal with a woman. I swore off them when you got cursed.”
The thought of his curse once more made Grave miserable. He’d have to find a way to deal with Athera—then perhaps she’d move on and he wouldn’t be the target of her affections any more.
Why did he feel a jolt of regret at that, though? Oh gods! He needed to get his head working right, or he was going to fail his task.
Chapter Five
Grave spent a few hours with Cain catching up on the things that had happened in the reaper world while Grave had been stuck with the oracle as they talked and feasted—Clementine made sure of it—on delicious foods.
By the time he left Cain, he was sure he could resist Athera and her charms, no matter what the phoenix said and did. He had to. He didn’t want to kill his charge, after all, and he didn’t want to lose his head to the executioner.
He appeared back in his room at Outsiders Inc., and the first thing that caught his eye was his backpack on the bed.
He made a humph sound. He’d known he couldn’t leave her to someone else’s care. On a subconscious level, he’d known.
“Tell me about your mother.” He put on a fake German accent, then chuckled, because if anyone needed psycho-analyzing it wasn’t him.
There was one thing he had to do before he could start protecting Athera, and that was lay down some ground rules. She had to understand that there would be no coming on to him, no pushing the boundaries at all.
Would he tell her about the curse? No. It might make it easier if she knew she’d die if they did the deed, but he was too ashamed about how he’d ended up with the curse in the first place, admitting his defeat at the hands of such a conniving woman. No, he couldn’t cop to that weakness in front of Athera. It made him itchy even to think about it.
The woman who got him cursed—he wouldn’t even think her name—had too many victories where he was concerned, and he didn’t want Athera to think badly of him or think he was weak.
He drew in a fortifying breath and went over the ground rules in his head.
No touching, no trying to tempt, no coming on to me. No innuendo. None of that, or I’m going to leave her to fight her death deity on her own.
He couldn’t do that, he knew. He admitted that as he yanked open his bedroom door and marched to her door. Still... he had to make her believe he would, or he was going to lose the battle between his need for Athera and his need not to kill her.
He shoved her door open and marched into her room.
“Athera, I have a few rules I need to discuss... ”
He trailed off as his eyes focused on her and she screeched like a banshee.
Athera had been standing at the dresser in the process of pulling a tee shirt on over her head.
His gaze found and seemed to have gotten stuck on the creamy tops of her breasts. They were deliciously cupped in a black lace bra that was so hot it should have burst into flames. Her nipples seemed to harden instantly, as if she could feel his gaze on her breasts. He could see them puckered from where he stood a few feet inside the open door.
“Don’t you know how to knock?” She yanked the shirt down over her breasts and he almost whimpered at the loss to his eyes.
“Up here, buddy” she growled, pointing a finger at her face.
Somehow, from somewhere, he managed to find the power to lift his eyes and meet hers.
His body was awake and screaming, his cock so hard he could probably use it as a jack-hammer.
He groaned. Not the best imagery right now, Grave. Gods!
“I’m sorry.”
“Damn right, you should be.”
Patches of color glowed on her cheeks and he thought that was what she’d look like under him and well satisfied, with that high color on her face.
Another internal groan.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You said that already. Next time you want my attention, curl a fist, and pound against the wood of the door. That’s pretty much why the door is there, that and to keep oafs out of rooms they shouldn’t barge into.”
He had to get his body under control. As it was, he was glad his tee was un-tucked and hanging long enough to hide Mister let’s-have-some-fun-now.
“Well?” She anchored her hands on her hips and glared at him, and damn if it didn’t turn him on more instead of making his body relax.
“I came to set some ground rules.” Focus, Grave.
She gave him a questioning look. “Ground rules?”
“If I’m going to help you by protecting you from Nexanthon, we need to agree to a few things.”
“Can it wait? I was about to go to the movies with Dani.”
“No,” he barked, then realized he sounded like a dictator. He also realized he didn’t care if he sounded like king-frigging-tut. She would listen to him whether she wanted to or not. “You aren’t going to the movies. You will stay here where I can protect you and get help if you are attacked, until we figure out our next step.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to tell me what I can and can’t do?”
“Trying isn’t the word I’d use. Succeeding is more like it.”
“Oh my gods! You are an arrogant jerk. A tasty jerk, but a jerk anyway. You can’t tell me where I can or can’t go, and I already know what my next step is in dealing with the Nex-asshole situation is.”
He felt an unwanted smile pull at his lips from her new name for the death deity. He watched her march over to the dresser, pull her purse down and sling it over her shoulders.
“And what is that?” Genuine curiosity fueled the question. He wanted to know what she’d decided to do about the Nex-asshole problem.
“We, as in you and I—” she pointed a finger at him and then a finger at herself—“are going to the vampire court.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why are we going there?”
“They have some information on some kind of weapon that can take Nexanthon out.”
Interesting. He wasn’t particularly keen on going anywhere near the vampire court. Most congregations’ area for immortals was dangerous. When one couldn’t die of old age, the need seemed to manifest to try and kill each other off in a million other ways.
Danger was everywhere when immortals grouped together, and as conniving and tricky as vamps were, their court was more hazardous than most.
“I know Poe lives and works here, so is the vampire prince going to be coming with us?”
She shook her head. “He’s gone, and before you ask, I don’t know where, so it’s just you and me, baby-cakes.”
“Don’t call me that.” He kept his voice low and dangerous.
“Ha! I’ll call you whatever I want, love button.”
A low growl poured from his chest.
“Did I hurt the baby’s feelings? Should I come kiss him better?” Ath tilted her head and winked at him.
Grave found himself closing his eyes and begging for patience. Anyone listening could bestow some upon him and he would be forever grateful. This phoenix was going to drive him to drugs.
“Athera... ”
“Oh, don’t say it. I know I’m awesome. You can worship at my feet later, but for now, I’m off to the movies.” She started to walk past him.
“Athera.” He barked her name and she stopped right in front of him.
“What, grumpy bear?”
There was that hand, anchored on her hip again. He gave her a grin he knew would melt her.
“Do you always go to the movies without any shoes on?”
She looked down at her bare feet and let off a curse that had him laughing as he t
urned to walk out the room.
* * * *
Grave found himself in a nearly deserted movie theater.
Not a problem.
That he was there with Athera and Dani and they were determined to watch a new horror movie might be a bit of a problem.
It was the—how did Dani put it—late late show, and according to the phoenix, it made watching horror that much more intense.
He’d refused to let them out the door until Archer had explained about Laz’s protection spell. After that, Grave had relented, but not enough to let the two females go alone. He would have to tag along and subject himself to bad cinema for the sake of getting the job done. He ignored the phoenix and focused on making sure that he was aware of the few other people in the cinema and that his senses were on high alert for anything else out of place.
Dani tossed popcorn at him because he was being un-cool.
Take one for the team, Grave.
He had to remind himself these were creatures that had been sheltered their whole life, if one could believe the stories he’d heard of the phoenix realm, and since the stories came from Cerise, he believed them.
It stood to reason that the females would go a little wild when given some freedom, but they took it to extremes at times.
He leaned into Athera to ask, “Why did none of the others come with you to the movies?”
Mistake.
She smelled of honeysuckle, and her hair brushed his cheek as she turned to him.
“We don’t like the company.”
She arched an eyebrow and he got the point—he wasn’t welcome.
“Dani and I like to come alone and be scared out of our pants.”
That imagery was not meant to be provocative, he tried to remind himself.
It didn’t work. His body woke up instantly.
For god’s sakes, was he going to have to walk around with a permanent hard-on? Because every time she opened her mouth, his body decided it was an invitation.