by Zoe Forward
“Nah. Dad would kill me if I did that again. I got sucked into an online game a few years ago and couldn’t do anything else for five days. Lost six pounds.”
“Who’s your dad?”
“Eric. Mom said you helped him get out of the hospital. So, uh, thanks for that.”
“Aren’t you a bit young to be hanging out with these dinosaurs?”
“I’m eighteen. That’s plenty old enough. There’s no one else to get the job done.”
His eyes indicated she look at the laptop screen. The screen held the logo for the US Air Traffic Control. “With very little effort, you can completely make things disappear.” He pointed at a dot indicating a plane and said, “Us.” Then he dramatically clicked the ENTER button and the plane was gone.
She laughed, understanding his brilliance.
The hushed conversation at the front of the plane stopped. All three guys shifted in their seats to gaze in her direction.
She smiled at the three solemn faces. “He’s a genius, isn’t he?” She pointed at the kid. Then to the kid she said, “Hey, what’s your name?”
He grinned shyly, pink highlighting each cheek. “Scott.”
She whispered, “Scott, I think it’s time to face the firing squad. Wish me luck.”
After years of dealing with her two overbearing, protective cousins, especially the militant Kane, she was pretty sure she could handle this. But the silent, intense stare from each of the three guys had her chewing her lip.
Extending her hand toward Ethan, she said, “I’m Kira. We haven’t been officially introduced.” She detected a staggering level of pain. His outward appearance of calm was pure deception.
“Ethan.”
The doctor in her rose to the fore. “So, that daemon got you too?” She knelt beside him, clasped his hand. This time the healing power did its thing without a problem, unlike with Ashor. A half minute later, she stopped. With a smile, she stood. A wave of weakness hit. She gripped the seatback to prevent a nose-first onto the floor.
“Thanks,” Ethan mumbled softly. He flexed his arm and rotated his shoulder. He grasped Kira’s arm and pulled her close to whisper, “He isn’t handling this well.”
Kira’s eyes darted to Ashor. Fury glittered in his gaze. The iris sludge swirled fiercely. Although he remained still as stone, she sensed the swelling of dark energy within. Was he jealous? Well, he’d just have to get over it. She was not his exclusive personal doctor.
Admittedly, healing Ashor had been a far different experience from with Ethan. Aside from sexual distraction, Ashor’s energy had captured hers, merged, and then their combined energy led to that instantaneous rapture and beyond belief arousal. Just thinking about it was getting her hot.
Bottom line, though, he had no claim over her.
Kira turned toward Christian and held out her hand.
He smiled broadly, exuding intense charm, and clasped her hand between both of his. He drawled in a Texas accent, “It’s Christian, little lady.”
She smiled, liking him instantly. Contact with him indicated he also masked an intense, underlying pain.
“You too?”
A minute after releasing her healing power into his body, she asked sincerely, “Leg better?”
Christian nodded. The smile was gone.
Kira leaned close to his ear and whispered privately, “Herpes? I’m not sure the virus would affect you, but you’d be a vector to spread it. I took care of it. Next time, wear a condom. They say one in five people have it.”
Christian flamed bright red.
“What’d she say?” Ethan demanded.
Christian shrugged and hid his flushed face behind a Bloody Mary that he quickly snatched off the tray next to him.
Ethan tried again, “Come on, man. I want in on this.”
Christian remained silent.
Ethan tried again. “Kira, what’d you say? I’ve been trying for forty years to do that and never found anything that got him that fast. This has got to be priceless.”
Kira stumbled into the seat beside Ashor, completely exhausted. “I’m sure you guys have lots you’d like to grill me on, but after being abducted, drugged, tortured, nearly shot, and almost killed by a car, I’m a little tired. I’m going to take a nap.” She punctuated this with a small yawn.
She leaned closed to Ashor and whispered, “I’ll try to behave myself while I sleep, but perhaps to be safe you should stay awake.”
Ashor looked so dumbfounded she almost giggled. She closed her eyes as true fatigue set in and leaned into his welcoming heat, placing her head against his side. Ashor fidgeted when her damp hair hit his naked chest, which brought a secret smile to her face.
“I like her, Ashor. She can stay.” Ethan laughed.
“Damn straight,” Christian agreed.
Chapter Sixteen
She woke disoriented. And cold. A breeze blasted her from an open front window in a moving SUV. How had she slept through being carried off the plane? She massaged a crick in her neck.
Ethan drove and she had a clear view of Ashor in the passenger seat. He was so tall even while sitting, easily six-four. Kira let her eyes trail down his solid frame to the muscular chest encased in a tailored black shirt. He’d ditched the leather and tactical gear, and changed into black jeans. His long, dark hair was still tied back, accentuating the angles of his face. She stared at his lips. Even in profile, the sculpted downward turn at the center made her ache to touch. Recalling those lips against hers not so long ago, she clenched as desire flooded her body.
“Where are we?” she asked.
Ashor glanced her way. The left corner of his mouth tipped upward.
He was ogling her chest. Flustered, Kira looked down. Her sweater was so low her breasts flashed above her lacy black bra, threatening to spill. She shrugged the sweater back into place and cocked an accusing eyebrow at him.
A wicked glint flashed across his face. He chuckled quietly and turned back to face forward.
“What?” Ethan glanced uncertainly at Ashor. He viewed Kira in the rearview mirror.
Ashor shook his head in dismissal.
The SUV pulled up to the same Florida estate she had visited a few days ago.
As they parked in front of the main house, the stunning blonde woman from Ashor’s bedroom the other day sprinted toward them. The woman enveloped Ashor in a hug. She cradled his head and dramatically kissed him.
This spectacle struck Kira immobile mid-exit from the car. Those same lips had touched hers with such passion. He had a live-in girlfriend?
A lethal power rose within her and targeted the woman.
The blonde backed away from Ashor, gripping her head. She babbled incoherently and fell to her knees.
Stop it, Kira, Ashor’s voice ordered in her mind.
Kira backed against the car for support against the force of Ashor’s command. Her connection to the woman broke. Yet, she still had the supremely powerful urge to annihilate the one stealing her man.
But he’s not yours, the logical part of her mind reasoned. Why, then, was her heart shattering at his betrayal? She inhaled shallowly against the burning pain that had settled in her chest.
Marla pointed a thin finger at her. “That witch tried to kill me, Ashor. What’s she doing here?”
“What are you talking about? She’s a guest.”
Kira forced herself to turn away. Somehow, she avoided glancing back as she moved stiffly toward the main house.
Once into the foyer, Eric and the tall, very pregnant redhead she’d seen him kiss the other day blocked her path.
“I’m glad you’re back. This is my wife, Julie.” Eric beamed at the redhead.
In a light Irish accent, Julie said, “I must thank you for saving Eric.” Julie leaned forward and kissed Kira on each cheek. “Why don’t you come with me and freshen up after your trip.” Julie grabbed her hand and tugged her away from the door.
****
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Ashor pus
hed Marla away. But she was right back like a feline in heat. When Marla’s lips touched his, a sinister chill settled deep in his bones. He couldn’t fathom if this disgust grew from his preoccupation with Kira or if Marla, herself, held a level of evil. Odd, since she’d been around for a few months and he never picked up anything before. He unhooked her hands from his neck and threw her away.
He glanced Kira’s way and…Damn it. Kira was definitely misinterpreting this bullshit.
“I thought you liked aggressive women,” Marla purred.
“Get off the plantation. You’re fired.”
After a small shrug, she sauntered away as if a switch had been tripped, turning off the sexual interest.
Ashor stared after Marla for a few seconds, and shrugged. He entered the house intent on setting Kira right, but Eric stopped him.
“V lost it again.”
“Where did V lose it?” Ashor asked in a resigned tone. This wasn’t what he needed right now. Yet another screw-up to sort out.
“Beach. Another biker rally.”
“He swore he wouldn’t do this again. Damage?”
“He was in a fight, but regained sanity before he killed anyone. He got out of there when the cops showed up. Unfortunately, someone slashed the tires on his Harley. Good thing Scott had his bike registered to a false address. Phoned me for a ride.”
“Where is he?”
“His place.”
“Where did Kira go?”
“Julie is with her upstairs.”
“Don’t let her leave,” he threw over his shoulder as he headed for the front door to have it out with V.
“Before you go, there’s one more thing. Nate had a little incident recently too.”
Ashor halted. “I heard about that.”
Eric shook his head, laughing. “Blowing up a gas station. That’s a new level for a newbie fuck up.”
“Is the story still running on the news?”
“Nonstop. They’re still suggesting it’s a terrorist attack. And get this, a Middle Eastern group is taking credit.”
“Great for us, but I hope it doesn’t incite a new national panic. Where is Nate?”
“He’s somewhere still whining about the loss of his muscle car. Sounds like he plans to go car shopping tomorrow. I think he’s pissed because he just had the one he exploded repainted. I think that was the last phase in its restoration.”
“Make sure he keeps his ass here for now.”
Ashor found V in the bathroom. The magus balanced his large frame on the edge of his oversized antique porcelain bathtub while he dabbed at the blood oozing from a ripped left nipple. A neglected cigarette drooped from the corner of his mouth; its smoke lazily drifted upward. The gash trekking across the top of his tanned, shaved head looked to have recently stopped bleeding.
“V, want to tell me what happened?” Ashor asked quietly.
Startled, V looked up. “Nyet.” No. He took a deep drag on the cigarette before laying it to rest on the side of the tub.
Ashor glanced over V’s other piercings, noting the other nipple ring was intact. Among the multiple silver hoops in each ear, one was missing in the left with only a jagged rip remaining. The three hoops in his right eyebrow and the nose stud were intact.
“Why’d you go? I thought you were avoiding that scene for a while.”
“Had an itch. Then some asshole called me a Commie bastard.”
Ashor’s lip quirked. “But you are.”
V grinned and took a deep drag on the cigarette. “Technically, ex-Soviet Red military commander.”
Ashor said, “Guess this means you haven’t made any progress on using seichim for control?”
V shook his head and looked away. He reached for the damp washcloth to clean the blood from his chest while mumbling, “Damned white trash.”
“What?”
The lines on V’s face deepened. “A couple of murders went down a few years ago at the bar. Minute I touched the bar counter, it was like the R-rated version of the mouse land’s haunted house lit up for my personal viewing. White trash, semi-naked ghosts yammering. Worst was this Vickie girl with a not-so-flattering bullet hole through her left eye. She was yelling at Jimmy Bob for screwing her sister Tiffany who’s now knocked up. Then Jimmy called his wife a slut. The bullshit went on and on. Obviously they offed each other in the middle of this crap fest. Problem is I’m forced to submit to their emotional download. And they were just thrilled to finally have an audience for their daytime TV audition.”
“I thought you decided not to do crowds again without one of us at your back in case this happened.”
V placed a bandage over his damaged nipple and leaned back to stare at the ceiling before he replied. “I got bored. The video game player broke. I’m not a goddamned dog to be confined to his crate, just because I can’t do crowds. In reality I’m like eighty years old. It’s not like you can ground me.”
“You need me to?”
“I can’t take feeling the dead anymore. This house is has its own special slave phantoms that like to chat. I’ve tried ignoring them, but it’s like putting a lid on a boiling-over pot of pasta. I feel their anger as if it’s my own, and then it takes over. I need this to end. Maybe I’ll be better at this in my next life.”
“Doubt it.” Ashor put down the toilet lid and sat. He sighed heavily as exhaustion drummed through him. “Look, V, we’re each cursed with our own special shit to figure out. Clearly it’s asinine for the gods not to tell us how it works in the beginning, but apparently that’s not part of their plan. You’ve got to get a grip. Five fights in a month is dangerous. Figure out how to use the power of the dead instead of letting it rule you. If you get caught, then I’ve got to bust you out of wherever they incarcerate you. Big exposure risk. V menya panimayete?” You understand me?
“Da.” He nodded his head while staring sightlessly ahead. “I fucked up again.”
“You’ve only been with us a few decades. You’ve still got plenty of time left to figure things out.”
V shot Ashor a less than convinced glare. “What if I don’t want to figure it out?”
“Then suck it up and deal. Suicide won’t work. Trust me on that one.” He sighed and rolled his eyes to glare at the ceiling for a moment. “I’m really not one to be giving anyone advice on anger management. At least you haven’t broken any of the rules yet. I think you’ll get better at dealing with the ghosts in time. I need you to keep above water for right now. Rein it in.”
V nodded his sleek head as Ashor departed. He almost collided with Nate as he exited V’s house.
“V okay?” Nate asked.
“He’s coping as well as any of us can. How are you?”
Nate shrugged.
“Can they trace your car?”
With a mischievous glint, Nate replied, “There wasn’t enough left to trace. True shame since I just got the stereo system installed last week. Gods, she was a beaut. I’d searched for three years to find her. ’Course it’s got nothing on your wheels, even though its now busted. Mike at the shop will go apeshit when you take her in to be fixed.”
“At least I’ve got something to take in. Damn it, both you and V having a public incident so close together is not good.” He rubbed his forehead against the burgeoning ache behind his eyes. “I know it’s been tough for you to figure out your abilities, but what happened?”
“Look, it’s not like I knew I could light up a car. That’s a new one.”
“You have a ‘new one’ about every other day. We’re going to have to work on your control.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Hope this fits.” Julie handed Kira a blue knit sweater and khaki pants. She pointed toward the bathroom. “When you’re done, find me down the hall.”
Kira rinsed her face, used the loo, and washed her hands. New clothes felt good…clean.
The room at the end of the hall turned out to be a sitting room. She chose a plush chair across from Julie that sucked her in and made her sigh
in comfort. The place exuded a luxury she’d read about, dreamed of, but never had the opportunity to experience. A monstrous stone and tile fireplace dominated a room furnished for relaxation. Intricate landscape paintings decorated the majority of each wall, the artwork no doubt priceless.
Julie twisted open a water bottle and took a generous swig before saying, “The blonde bimbo throwing herself at Ashor is Marla, the housekeeper. She’s been slavering after him every since she was hired on a few months ago.”
“Thanks for the clothes. Ashor certainly seemed into her.”
“Maybe that’s what you saw, but he didn’t appear to be very interested from my perspective. The guy seemed more into goo-goo eyeing you as you left him hanging in the dirt. Now that was entertaining. I guarantee I’ve never seen him look that way at any woman in the time I’ve known him.”
“So, he and Marla aren’t an item?”
“Oh, hell, no. I think you should make Ashor suffer, though. If I was you, I’d wear something that shows a lot o’ skin and prance in front of him, but not let him touch for a month.”
Kira laughed, immediately warming to Julie. “Does he date much?”
“Dating? I’d say not. These days he’s more into disappearing and coming back beat to hell.” Julie took a sip of water and shifted her position. “I’ve always found him rather frightening. The stories of when he loses it…well, those will make you lock your doors at night and sleep with a gun, not that that would stop him.”
“He would never hurt anyone without a good reason.” Somehow, she knew that. Deep down he was a good man. She got that he was tormented, for some reason, but he was not randomly vicious.
“I’m not putting that one to the test. Eric says little gets through to Ashor when he goes into one of his crazy rage fits. That’s his special power, the rage thing. Scary part is that it’s getting harder for him to come back to normal after he uses it. The guys respect him, though. He’s the Prime and no one else wants that job. I don’t know if any of the others could do it.”
“What’s it mean to be the Prime?”
“I’m sorry. I seem to be a bit of a blabbermouth today. It’s got to be the hormones. I’m just so psyched to have another woman join our group. Finally, I’ll have someone to commiserate with over these testosterone bulls. What were we talking about?”