by Sariah Skye
I snorted. “I’m right here, doofus.”
He followed the sound of my voice with his sexy, exotic eyes, grinning at me. “Come on, Ava. I can’t see you, but I know you’re there.” He took a couple of steps forward, thrusting out his hand.
I snorted, rolling my eyes. I stood up and grasped his hand. Xander grinned widely.
“There you are!” He said with his deep voice. I almost forgot to be panicked and overwhelmed at what I just saw.
Almost.
My forehead creased, as I squinted at him. “What do you mean ‘there you are.’ Are you a blind idiot? I was right here!”
Xander chuckled, biting his lip, and shaking his head. “I know, Avie.”
“Ava,” I corrected, pulling my hand away and crossing my arms over my chest, stubbornly. “Only my friends call me Avie.”
“Fine. Avalon.” He countered, with a sexy smirk.
My heart thumped. His smirk was doing things to me—things I didn’t want.
I gave him a shove. “No one calls me Avalon. Especially not people who kill people in broad daylight.”
Xander laughed, the sound was baritone and pleasant. Now I bit my lip, to prevent myself from drooling.
“These are not people, Ava. They are…scum. Undesirables. Demons.” With that word, his stare intensified, as if daring me to deny the crap I just saw.
I just swallowed, somewhat nervously. Still, I kept my face in a solid glare. I didn’t want him to know I appreciated his mega-hotness.
“You all keep saying this word. Demons. Come on…”
Xander shook his head again. He peeled off his shirt, revealing the tattoo of a Chinese (I think?) dragon on his right bicep, and a handful of Asiatic characters in various spots of his chest, stomach, and arms. He wasn’t bulky by any stretch, but his musculature was defined, and it suited him well.
Very well.
Xander finished wringing out his shirt, grinned, raising one brow. “I like the way you look at me. Is that wrong?”
I winced, appearing affronted. Really, I was just embarrassed to be caught fawning.
“Whatever. You’re kinda full of yourself, ya know?” I waved him off, feeling the heat rise on my cheeks—which was saying something because I was chilled to the bone from the rainwater, dousing my hair and clothing. Sierra, since Swarthy had disappeared had been relatively quiet, even with Xander present. I shook the weapon in front of me, offered him a wink. “Thanks for the help. We’ll be going now. And I’m keeping this.”
Sierra hesitantly followed me as I began stalking down the desolate path.
A gust of wind hurled me backward, nearly into Xander’s arms.
Glaring, I smacked at his chest and stepped backward. “Dick! What the hell?”
“Listen, Ava…I won’t force you anywhere. But there are other people like Deano here. Other Collectors will come for you…you need to at least come home with me—just for a bit. So, we can fully show you what’s going on. If you want to leave after that—it’s up to you. I don’t want to see you hurt, neither does anyone else. We can help keep you safe, but we won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. We will however continue to keep watch of you, period. We will always be in the shadows, like it or not. We will not allow one of our own to be harmed.” Xander’s face was solemn as he spoke. He gently reached for my hand, and brought it to his chest.
I grunted. “I don’t know…” I still hadn’t fully processed what was going on. But, his heart was strong and steady, and I got the feeling that he was being truthful.
Against my better judgement I sighed, throwing up my hands. “I hope you like dogs, because I won’t go anywhere without her.”
Xander smiled. “We love animals where we are. You’ll see. My car is this way.” He nodded down the path, and I followed him. Maybe, I’d get some answers along the way.
I still thought they were nuts. But, I was beginning to think I was, too.
CHAPTER 8
This is so stupid. This is so unbelievably stupid.
Xander’s vehicle—a blue Subaru—had been parked about a block away. I had clutched the weapon close to my side as we walked the quiet distance. The only reason I didn’t run like the wind was—well, I couldn’t run without killing myself—and Sierra seemed relatively relaxed. She was generally wary of all strangers. And, you know how it goes…if a dog trusts you, chances are, you’re all right. It was crazy, and I wasn’t in the habit of getting into a vehicle with a strange man—no matter how hot he was—but I did feel better that Sierra wasn’t on guard. Still, I wasn’t going to make it easy on him.
“You really expect me to get in this car with you?” I narrowed my eyes at him, as he opened the passenger’s side door for me. I still clutched the strange weapon at my side. “You know how dangerous this is? Me, a woman, getting into a car with a stranger? You know there are news stories about this literally all the time about women getting hacked to pieces that do this?”
Xander sighed. “Ava, if I wanted you dead, I would have just let Swarthy back there take care of you.” He started to lightly close the door, but Sierra had other ideas. She sniffed at me and hopped into the front seat, and squirmed her way into the back. “Your dog thinks it’s okay.”
“Hmmph,” I said stubbornly. “A convincing argument, but she loves rides.”
Xander smiled. “Fair enough. I know I don’t have a really good reason to offer you to trust me, but I’m hoping you will anyway. You know, I could literally kick that weapon out of your hand right now, and pin you to the ground in a split second. But I haven’t done that yet, have I?”
My resolve weakened, and I loosened my grip on the weapon slightly. “Well…that’s true.” I did see his flexible Kung Fu Panda-esque skills. Not that I had anything to go by (except the chubby panda in the movie) but he seemed pretty impressive. And fast.
He raised a brow expectantly. “If you’d like, I can leave you here. But there’s no guarantee there aren’t more Collectors nearby. Which would you rather take your chances with? Me, or someone like Swarthy?”
My eyes widened briefly as I considered it. I sighed audibly. “Fine. Let’s go, then.”
“Thank you for allowing me to rescue you, your highness,” he said, opening up the door and gesturing to it with a wide, swooping arm gesture.
“Rescue? You’re not rescuing me! I’m allowing you to assist me,” I retorted, attempting to enter the car gracefully—still holding on the weapon. “There’s a difference.”
He snickered. “Of course. I’m merely an assistant.” Reluctantly, I climbed into his vehicle, and he shut the door on me, quickly walking to his own side, and getting in the driver’s seat.
I would have preferred to sit in the back seat with Sierra, but she took up most of it. So, as Xander started the vehicle and began down the road to—wherever— I white-knuckled the weird weapon in my lap, and sat stiffly in the front seat with Xander. I warily watched the landmarks around us grow sparser as we drove out of the suburbs.
“Where the fuck are we going? Are you going to take me to some creepy little cabin somewhere and kill me? Maybe toss me in a wood-chipper afterwards?” I asked snarkily, my side pressed up against the window and door.
Xander flashed me an odd gaze. “Wood chipper? Gods, Ava—why would anyone do that?”
I chortled, rolling my eyes. “It’s a Fargo reference.”
“That’s just sick,” he said. “Look, Ava, I know you’re freaked out. I get it. I don’t know how I can get you to believe my promise—but you’re safe with me. With us.”
I ran a fingertip over the cool barrel of the weapon. “Us. You said I was ‘one of you’?”
Xander, eyes on the road, smiled from the corner of his mouth. “Yes, you are. But I want to wait until we get to the house to talk about it. Everyone should be here when we do.”
I glared. “Why? What’s the big secret?” Feeling stubborn, and frustrated, I raised the weapon and pointed it at his cheek. “Just tell me or I’ll sh
oot you with this—thing.”
Xander chuckled, which made me even more irritated. “Ava, you don’t want to shoot me with that thing. It could kill a human, but I’m not human anymore—it’ll only stun me. Basically. And I won’t be able to drive this car, and we’ll crash into the ditch. I don’t want to hurt you—and you don’t want to get hurt. So, please, put the weapon down.” His voice was deep, yet soothing; like the ocean from a distance as it slapped against the shoreline.
Snarling, reluctantly I dropped the weapon from his face, and set it in my lap. “Okay, you win. But, what is it?”
“It’s a stunner, made out of dragonmetal. Paralyzes a supe, but it could cause heart failure in a human because of its strength,” Xander explained, like he was speaking of something so mundane as a pencil sharpener.
My eyebrows flew upward. “Um. Dragonmetal? Soup? What kind—tomato? Chicken noodle? Details here…I need details!” I insisted, smacking him lightly in the bicep.
He flinched. “Ow…anyone ever tell you, you got a mean fist?”
“Yeah, I lift stuff. Now get back to this soup stuff…” I snapped my fingers impatiently.
He laughed; it was a pleasant sound; his grin lighting up his already handsome face. Don’t stare, Ava…or you’re a goner…
“Dragonmetal is actually a sort of combination of metals created by a dragon blacksmith—it’s incredibly rare. Only certain dragons could make it. It’s made to be lighter and more conductive to magic than other metals,” Xander said.
I blinked. “Wait—dragons. Like made by an actual dragon? You have to be shitting me!”
Xander glanced over at me briefly, smirking from ear to ear. “Yes. Dragons. Well…we assume dragon shifters. Part of the supernatural creature—or mythological—family, so to speak. Or ‘supe’ for short. Some refer to them as mythos too. They’re both the same thing.”
I shook my head, feeling completely flabbergasted. Up until about twenty minutes ago, I would have thought he was batshit crazy…but after seeing everything I saw: the weird weapon I held in my lap, the beguiling attractive, exotic, dark haired storm ninja next to me…I was beginning to think there was something to this supe shit after all. All that, with what Mathias told me yesterday…I was beginning to be a supernatural convert.
But, I still wasn’t ready to let my guard down. I’d opt for a sarcastic comment instead. “Dammit, I was really looking forward to tomato soup,” I said, sticking out my lip in a faux pout.
Xander snorted, the sound totally strange and off-putting, completely opposite of his husky voice. “I think we can accommodate you. Mathias is quite the chef, actually.”
I turned to stare at him, so fast I thought I gave myself whiplash. “Mathias can cook?”
Xander nodded. “Yes, he does most of the cooking. I’m afraid none of the rest of us have much of a knack for it. I can make a mean bowl of ramen though.”
I had to bite my lip to hide my smile. I didn’t want him to be charming. I didn’t want to become attracted to any of these guys. But I couldn’t lie; the four of them were already on my mind since that night—two nights ago now—at the club.
Since Xander wanted to wait to give me the full story, I just sat silently most of the remainder of the ride, staring out the window at the trees that grew thicker the further we went out of the city. It reminded me what strange territory I was actually finding myself in.
I was turned around in my seat, reaching over the armrest to stroke Sierra’s fur when I heard the roar of a very noisy motorcycle. I was confused, when a bandanna-wearing, sunglass-donning familiar male rode up alongside us.
“Is that—?” I started, pointing out the window.
The man took his glasses off with one hand, his other on the handlebars of the sleek machine. Steely blue eyes crinkled as they smiled at me.
Xander waved across me, honking his horn.
“Bash?” I asked uncertainly. “But—I saw this dude yesterday?” I scratched my forehead, confused.
Bash replaced his sunglasses, revved his engine, and sped forward, changing lanes so he was before us in the empty road.
“Yes, Ava. When we found out what you were—we’ve had to keep an eye on you. It’s only sheer luck the Collectors haven’t been after you so far, but we can’t just leave you to fend for yourself, until you knew what you are up against. We’ve been keeping an eye on you—respectfully distant of course. You had a close call with one last night, but thankfully Sebastian was there to thwart Deano.”
“The guy in the black car? That was Swarthy?” I was amazed and dumbfounded at once. “I wonder if he was the one from the other night too.”
“Swarthy?” Xander chuckled mirthfully. “That’s a good description for him. And yes, it probably was the same guy from the other night. Mathias didn’t get a good look at him, but we’re glad he was there—totally the right place at the right time.”
I made a self-satisfied hmph. “Of course it was. I should totally be pissed you’ve been following me though,” I said, waving an intimidating finger at Xander.
“Yes, you have that right. And if you want us to be gone after we tell you everything you are ignorant to—we’ll give you your privacy. You never have to deal with us again. We’ll give you the means and tools to fight them off. But, you don’t have to be alone in the battle. We’ll be there for you. All of us.”
I ran my hands over my face. I couldn’t believe everything that was happening.
But I was happy to finally be getting answers.
More or less.
CHAPTER 9
I soon learned that “Wild Township”—the address that was printed on the business card that Mathias had given me—was a tiny little unincorporated town of four people:
Mathias, Trystan, Bash, and Xander. They were Wild Township.
Somehow, the four men owned acres of land and had managed to register the area with the state as a township for ultimate privacy. Which is why it didn’t show up on any maps or Google searches. Apparently, this requires some heavy payments under the table; all to keep the government out of their business.
I wasn’t sure, I started tuning out when Xander pulled into a long, long, winding driveway. But first, Bash stopped at a stone column, still straddling his motorcycle. He opened up some secret compartment on the column, and with a touch of his or hand, it opened a large, iron gate that sprawled out before us. It parted smoothly in the middle, allowing Bash, then Xander and I in the Subaru, to pass before closing shut quickly behind us.
“Shitballs,” I said under my breath, in awe. The long, cobblestone drive led up to a large, rustic log house with large architectural windows. It seemed to be at least four times the size of a normal house; but still it didn’t appear uncomfortable or stuffy at all. Just a really large log house, with a set of double wooden front doors with frosted glass in a half moon shape split between the two of them, and a large, attached, double-door, two-car garage.
“What, this?” Xander shrugged modestly. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
I slowly turned my head, probably looking like The Exorcist, to glare at him severely. Instead of speaking, I just pummeled him in the arm. Again.
“Ouch! Damn girl, whatever it is you’re doing, keep it up! You won’t need us after all!” The wounded look on his face appeared only partially kidding.
“Humph. I don’t need anyone.” I said stubbornly. We came to a stop and as soon as the doors unlocked, I leaped out of the car (still carrying the weapon in one hand), Sierra quickly after me.
Bash was climbing off his motorcycle, ripping off his black bandanna and sunglasses, shoving them into an internal pocket in his black leather jacket.
I quickly grabbed Sierra’s leash as soon as she climbed awkwardly out of the car. Bash joined us, smiling widely.
“You made it! In one piece, thankfully,” Bash said joining us in the driveway.
“Uh-huh. Mostly.” I glanced at Sierra warily, as she eyed him carefully. “Are you sure she’s okay he
re?”
Bash waved me off with a chuckle. “Oh she’ll be at home here. There’s animals here of all kinds. Trystan keeps them in line.”
“Trystan? How?” I said with surprise.
Bash just grinned. At that moment, two raccoons came darting out from one side of the house, chittering as they chased each other through the large yard. I could swear, I heard the howl of a wolf from nearby as well. “We’ll let him tell you that.”
I grumbled, throwing my hands up in the air. “Fine! Let’s do this.” Before going into the house, though, I spun around, admiring the grounds around me. I noticed that beyond the trees stood a tall stone barrier; probably at the edge of the property.
Sierra and I followed Bash up the cobblestone stairs to a small patio; two light-colored log columns stood on either side of us leading up to an overhang to block out the sun. A single wooden chair and log table sat nearby; a cup of coffee in a red mug sat on the table, waiting for someone to retrieve it.
Bash opened another hidden panel in the frame around the door, placed his hand in and the doors swung open, parting in the middle.
Xander muttered something crankily under his breath as he grabbed the mug and followed us inside.
“Holy crap.” While the outside of the house appeared rustic and earthy—the inside was a polar opposite. We walked into a totally open floor plan—a living room/kitchen combination with steel appliances, gray suede chairs and sofa, chrome and glass tables and chairs, and a lot of technology. Speakers along the walls, a large flat screen TV over a fireplace with a fake fire insert and a very large desk containing a state of the art computer and monitor. There were probably more hidden treasures in the random sleek cabinets about as well. Soft, plush black blankets and pillows rested on every sitting surface, waiting for use. Local photography hung on the walls in artistic places; I recognized several Minnesota landmarks: Minnehaha Falls, the Minneapolis Skyline with a purple filter (when the skyscrapers were all lit up purple for Prince’s passing), and Splitrock Lighthouse just to name a few. The photo of the lighthouse was closest to me, and I took a step nearer to it, to inspect it better. A Chinese character, and an “X” rested in the corner. I turned to Xander and raised an eyebrow.