by Zoe Forward
“I’m their doctor.”
Shay frowned. “Who do you work for?”
“I’m the doctor to the magi. The Scimitar Magi. Don’t claim you don’t know who they are. Maybe you haven’t been introduced face-to-face, but you’ve been researching them for a while. I know it’s probably a bit of a shock to realize what sounded like a ridiculous story is real, but you are very much a part of their world whether you want to be or not.”
“How do you know all this stuff about me?”
“Your advisor, Stephen Levin, phoned my cousin, Markus, to ask him to find you. Apparently, you missed a meeting with your advisor. He thought you planned to try something stupid. Like meet with Hashishins, although he probably doesn’t know that you actually followed through on that idiocy. Markus phoned me since he’s on strict orders never to go near Asheville or wherever Hashishins congregate. Sorry the boys were a bit slow to find you. They had some business to take care of before they headed your way. We’d have preferred you had avoided meeting Terek.”
“I knew it! Stephen does know a lot more than he was letting on.”
“Well, he doesn’t know about the us-being-real part, although he might have suspicions. That was a coincidence. Markus owed him a favor. He usually retrieves artifacts from the black market, not people. Your advisor must’ve been pretty worried to call Markus. Nothing goes quite as expected when he’s involved. He gets the job done, but there’s usually chaos involved. Anyway, why don’t you tell me about that necklace.” Kira smiled expectantly.
“Do you have any clothes I can borrow, not that I’m not grateful for the T-shirt?”
“I laid out a few items over there. Chair by the bathroom door. We’re close in size. Your bag is by the bed.” She pointed to the floor next to her. There sat her familiar oversized leather handbag, the one she’d left in the rental car. Dakar must’ve been thoughtful enough to ensure it came with them.
Shay ran her hand over the new tattoo on her side. “How did you do this?”
“Never mind that. Tell me about the necklace.”
“I don’t really know you. And given the monumental shit I’ve been through recently, I’m inclined to pass on divulging personal info for the moment. I’d like to take a shower or a bath.”
“Sure. No problem. Bathroom is over there. Is there anyone I can phone for you to let them know you’re okay?”
Nope. “I’ll check my cell for messages. And take a shower. Thanks.”
“Great. I’ll be back in a bit with some food.” Kira exited.
Her cell phone chimed in the familiar tone for an incoming. Guilt that she’d been so lost from the world of technology made her push off the covers and dive for the bag. She pawed through until locating the source of the low-pitched electronic noise.
“Hello,” she answered, breathless.
“Shay, this is Dr. Levin. Are you still in Asheville?” His tone was tight, edgy.
“What? Asheville?”
“I had a friend find out where you went when you missed our meeting. He tracked you down here, but…I want us to meet. Here, in Asheville. To talk about why it is that you’re here.”
Weird. “Why are you in Asheville?”
“I was worried. Let’s try to meet.”
“I can’t meet today.”
“Tomorrow. There’s a Folk Art Center just outside town. Meet at ten a.m. in the parking lot.”
“All right. I’ll try.”
He hung up abruptly.
Right, meet tomorrow. That’s a joke. She didn’t even know where she was now, and certainly didn’t know about the Folk Art Center. What was Dr. Levin doing in Asheville? And, how was she supposed to make her way there in time for a meeting?
A few minutes later, water coursed down her back while soothing humidity filled her lungs. She rested her forehead on the shower’s tiled wall, trying to stop her brainspin.
They were real. Magi. Scimitar Magi. Real.
They had a magical doctor who did some sort of magik healing on her. And tattooed her, not that she wasn’t thrilled. She smoothed the stylized hieroglyphs that now permanently marked her side and her thigh. She’d always wanted a tat, but never settled on a design she wanted imprinted forever on her skin. Now she had two.
Despite the fact she’d studied the magi for years, and searched for proof of their existence, she hadn’t realized the depth of her skepticism until now. And he might just be one. Dakar. Could he really be an immortal that battled daemons?
She’d already seen him in action against a daemon in Colombia. But just hadn’t believed her foggy memory wasn’t some overblown coma dream.
Although the last twenty minutes had been necessary, she needed to get out of the water. Her fingertips looked like raisins.
As she pushed out of the shower, she froze. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. The drip drip drip from her body onto the tile floor echoed in the room.
Dakar rested casually against the doorframe. Yet there was nothing casual in the dark gaze that raked her from head to foot with a single encompassing look. Black sludge swirled in his golden eyes when his gaze returned to hers. The dark T-shirt and jeans hugged his massive frame, keeping few secrets.
His vitality seared her like an almost palpable force.
“Are you in any pain?” he asked. His gaze dropped to where the knife had struck, and then to her previously damaged thigh.
She recovered, snagged the towel off the hook, and pulled it around her. Somehow even covered, she still felt exposed. “Did you even consider knocking before coming in?”
His lips quirked and creases appeared at the edges of his eyes. “You would hide yourself from me?” He chuckled. “Pointless.”
She whispered, “Please, get out of here.”
“You have watched me. Even came to me the other day in a vision. We know each other.”
“That was a dream. There’s no way you also—”
He whispered into her ear, “Did you enjoy taking advantage of me?”
She jumped. How had he moved so fast? She turned away from him.
His arm wrapped around her, pulling her backwards, tight to his body. “I might be inclined to let you do so again.”
She panted, struggling to catch her breath. She twisted and braced a hand against his chest. The heat of his body seared her through his dark T-shirt. Her skin prickled, almost painfully sensitive. Panic swelled in her brain.
His sharp gaze was startlingly aware. His lips parted as his breaths came fast. “I am a fool,” he murmured, his Egyptian accent thick. He backed her shoulders against the shower door. The towel fell to the floor.
Her breath caught as the fullness of his arousal pushed against her.
Instantly, he took advantage of her parted lips. His lips latched onto hers. Her blood surged in response to the soul-searing skill he used. He deepened his advantage when she relaxed. He tasted wild and achingly familiar. Her body instinctively molded against him.
His hands moved over her body, drifting lower, making her acutely aware of her nakedness. Long fingers slipped between her legs into her soft folds. Shay had but a second of warning before an almost-painful inner tightening hit. She frantically pushed against him. But it was too late. Sensation fractured into a thousand pulsations. With a hoarse cry, she arched against him and ground tightly against his hand.
His breath hitched as his mouth captured hers and muffled her cry. He gathered her tight against him as her climax burst through her. His fingers continued their deliberate caress. The spasms finally slowed, and she sank weakly against him.
She jerked her mouth from his, burning with mortification. With a push, she stepped away from him, yanking the towel off the floor to cover what she could, her legs wobbly. “Get away from me.”
He grabbed her arm. “Look at me, Shaiani.”
She tugged her arm free and edged further away, crossing her arms across her chest. “This is a mistake.”
“Did not feel that way to me moments ago.”
He wrapped himself around her before she even realized he’d moved. Damn, he was fast. One of his hands clamped the base of her neck. The other pulled her hips tight to him, his heavy arousal pressed tight to her abdomen.
She closed her eyes, fighting herself when every inch of skin electrified where it contacted his hard body. She hated her lack of control…and her bizarre reaction to him. His hand at her nape massaged. She swayed into him…needing. Oh God, she wanted him with a desperation that eclipsed anything she’d ever felt for a man. No, you do not! Get it together and get out of here.
She waited for his mouth to come down to hers again. The urgency of her want shocked her. Instead he whispered in her ear, “Why do you fight this?”
“I don’t trust you. I don’t know you.”
His lips hovered inches from hers. “You do not trust me? I could push you against that wall and be deep inside you in a heartbeat. You would voice no complaint.”
No, she probably wouldn’t. She’d be…relieved.
“Your body trusts me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into the curve of her neck. His breath came in short hot pants against her.
Push him away. But she didn’t. She arched her breasts into him, and gripped his shoulders, pulling him to her.
A male moan of desperation broke from him. “I need to be inside you. We can do this in here or in the bed. The choice is yours.”
Sanity crashed through her desire haze. What was she doing getting it on with him? She choked out, “No.”
His fingertip smoothed wet hair away from her face and traced down her cheek. “Shani, I am not going to hurt you.”
Not now. But later, you will. Men like this always hurt her later. Of course, she’d never experienced raw desire this powerful. That only meant she’d fall harder when she watched him walk away.
“What are you doing in here? Get. Out!” a female voice yelled from the doorway.
Dakar swung around with Shay clamped against his side. “I, we—”
Kira ordered, “Look, until we resolve this, you can’t be in here.”
His eyes met Shay’s, communicating regret and disbelief. He tightened the towel where it sagged before stepping away. “Until later, shani.”
Shay wished she could prevent the tomato red flush she glimpsed highlighting her cheeks in the vanity mirror.
Kira placed the borrowed clothes on the sink counter. “I’ll give you a few minutes.” And closed the door.
Shay pulled on the dark sweater and gauzy skirt hastily as if hiding the flush over most of her chest and neck would erase her humiliation. She ran a brush through her hair and splashed water on her face. The guy had barely kissed her and she just lost it?
She pushed out of the bathroom and met the doctor’s curious gaze. “Nothing happened with him.”
Kira shrugged. “That’s between the two of you. My concern is, who gave you that necklace?”
Shay fingered the pendant. “Why are you so obsessed with this thing?”
“Let’s just say it’s important right now.”
“My mother gave it to me when she was ill. She died of pancreatic cancer unexpectedly about six years ago. She wore the necklace as long as I can remember.”
“Well, that’s a relief of sorts. And who gave it to her?”
“I’m not really sure. What she told me didn’t make much sense. She said I would eventually meet him and that he was Christian. That’s all.”
“Christian? You’re absolutely sure about that?” Kira’s face reflected shock.
Shay nodded.
“Well, that’s…Frankly, I can’t really describe my surprise. Want to meet him?”
“I guess. Is he a Christian?”
“That’s his name. I’m pretty sure he isn’t devoutly religious.”
“Is he one of the…one of them?”
Kira nodded. “I’ll be just a minute.” She stuck her head out the door. “Khyan, get Christian. Dakar, stay out of this…Yeah, Christian.”
Shay heard some mumbling, and then Kira said loudly, “I don’t give a shit if he’s filming a personal porn video. Just get him in here. Now.” There was some further murmuring before Kira ordered, “Dakar, I’m not intimidated. You’ve got no proof you have any right to be in here. Threaten me and I’ll get Ashor…aw, shit. Too late now. He’s on his way up here. He’s going to think I can’t handle anything on my own.”
Minutes later Dakar and another equally tall inked bad boy hauled a gorgeous, half-naked guy spewing a string of foul curses into the room. Their victim’s short, blond hair jutted in messy spikes. His only clothing was a pair of designer jeans, obviously pulled on in a hurry since the top button was undone. The jeans rode low enough to leave little doubt he was commando beneath. Scars and blue tattoos littered his chest.
Her gaze drifted to Dakar. He’d abandoned his job as a restrainer, and now stood with arms tight across his chest. A tic worked double time in his cheek as if counting down to a homicidal explosion against the blond. She squinted at the neckline of Dakar’s black T-shirt. Something moved. The image of a cat-like creature peeked over the shirt’s collar to stare at her.
He had a living tattoo too? No wonder he knew what it was. Did all these guys have one?
“Get off me,” Christian spat as he threw the other guy away, who landed against the wall. She cringed at the deep dent and webbing of cracks now in the plaster.
Christian’s head whipped around to shoot a furious glare at the guy he threw off. “What’s your problem, Khyan?”
Khyan had regained his balance, ready. He held up his hands and backed off. “We’ve been buds for decades. I’m not here to fight. Doc wanted you down here pronto ’cause we got a weird one to sort through.” He pointed at the bed.
Christian focused on Shay. “Why is she here?”
“I healed her at Dakar’s request. Now Shay needs to speak with you,” Kira said. “It’s important.”
Dakar unleashed. He pinned Christian against the wall. “Who is she to you?”
“She’s none of your business, if she’s here to see me.” Christian pushed Dakar off. “Get out.”
“I’m not leaving you in here with her.”
“Look, if she prefers me over you, then she’s got good taste. Khyan, get your brother out of my face before I hurt him.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Khyan broke into a wide smile. “Come on, Dak. This is fucked up, but we must respect his right to her, I suppose. For the time being, anyway.”
Dakar said low to Christian, “Put one finger on her…” His dark gaze jumped to her.
The intensity of his stare ensnared her like a deer viewing fast-approaching headlights. Breathing became an unwanted distraction, and was suspended. The room narrowed as if only the two of them existed, staring at each other from too far away. A powerful connection linked her to this relative stranger. Somehow, she understood he was furious and…territorial? That last part she sensed deep in her soul on an intuitive level that made no sense. Maybe he felt he owed her since she helped him with the daemon in Colombia? She wished she could tell him he had nothing to worry about regarding Christian. As smoking hot as Christian and Khyan may be, only Dakar had her body’s attention.
She fought back a shiver as his eyes raked her upper body. The perusal took no more than a few seconds, but her body went on instant simmer, ready for him, beating lust through her bloodstream.
Dakar scowled a warning at Christian and then back to her. Yet he held himself in check as if requesting her permission to annihilate Christian. He’d probably be delighted if she gave him the go-ahead. Then, as if a switch turned it off, Dakar’s face changed into stoic stone. Without a word he left, as did everyone but Christian.
She stared at the door where Dakar exited. Instinct pushed her to chase after him and fix his misconception.
Christian self-consciously buttoned his jeans. He wiped away remnant lipstick from his left nipple. “That was
interesting. I’m pretty sure if I made a pass at you, Dakar would bust through that door and pulverize me into mincemeat. I must admit I don’t really know the guy since he just appeared to us a few days ago from the long lost past, but he seems to be a bit off his rocker where you’re concerned. Sort of like you’re his senariai. Have we met before?”
“No.”
“Then why put me in the line of fire with him?”
“I’m Caitlin’s daughter.”
“I’ve met a few Caitlins over the years. You’ll have to do better than that.”
Shay held up the pendant.
Christian froze. He stared at her for a few long moments, his lower jaw slowly moving back and forth. Quietly, he replied, “You look a lot like her. She had that same dark red hair.” He sighed and said softly, “I heard she passed.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m not chasing you down, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I just sort of ended up here. Mom said to give this to you when we crossed paths. She predicted it would happen at some point.” Shay handed him the pendant. “Her instructions were to tell you it never belonged to her.”
He took the necklace, looked at it for no more than a second and shoved it into a pocket. “Why’d she think we’d cross paths?”
“She was so deterministic about things and said we were a part of each other’s lives. I’m your daughter. She told me I’d recognize you not only by your triangle chest tattoo, which is the same as on the pendant, but also that you had a red dragon tat over your left ribcage. We also have the same birthmark.” Shay rotated her right forearm to show the brown triangular super freckle.
Christian paled and stumbled backwards into a chair against the wall. He ran his hand along the red dragon tattoo self-consciously. “She must’ve lied to you. I mean, Caitlin and I were together, but you can’t be my daughter. I can’t have children. At least not with anyone that’s not my senariai.”
Not exactly the response she’d imagined. His rejection cut deeply. “She said you wouldn’t believe it. But she’d never been with a man before you.”
An appalled look crossed his face. “How is it possible? I’ve got that mark on my arm like yours, but…Damn, the gods are a wily bunch.”