Rising Sun

by Lyla Oweds

  He took in another drag of his cigarette before he continued. “You can’t insult a girl without introducing yourself first.”

  I frowned at the man. That wasn’t right at all. You shouldn’t be insulting a woman, period. Who were these people?

  “I’m not insulting her!” The handsome stranger sounded offended, but then his face turned contemplative. He stroked his chin, and his chagrined expression returned toward mine. “He has a point, though. I’m Caleb Weaver. But round here, they call me The Professor.” He held out his hand. “And you are?”

  Years of etiquette lessons urged me to respond. It would be rude to ignore a semi-proper introduction.

  “I’m Gloria Protean,” I answered, tentatively reaching my hand to accept his.

  As his hazel eyes held mine, I remained intrigued. Despite his rude manner, and his speech, I couldn’t help but get the impression there was more to him. His pseudonym was ‘The Professor,’ after all. That had to mean something, although it sounded ridiculous and I’d never address him as such.

  Perhaps he was highly educated? The world was full of mysterious things.

  But then our skin touched as his hand grasped mine. My breath caught, and a current shot through me. For a brief but powerful second, we were connected. Not just physically but something more. My instincts stirred, reaching toward his abilities.

  Unlike Gregory, who fascinated me yet existed out of reach, this was someone on my level. What was this feeling? It felt like, together, we could do anything. That we shared the same glorious destiny—

  “Aw, man.” Caleb’s breath had also hitched. And he frowned down at our joined hands. “Why did it have to be a woman?”

  The illusion shattered, and I felt myself frowning at him. However, before I could react, the shorter man pulled Caleb aside. Before I could even move, he’d grasped my hand in his own.

  There it was again. The same initial spark, the same feeling of wholeness. This was—

  “I’m David Kelly.” The man smirked at me. His expression infinitely warmer than it had been moments before. “And welcome to our dysfunctional little quintet.”

  The shock of his touch faded as David’s words processed. I studied him, and his grin grew as his blue eyes sparkled.

  “What on earth are you talking about?” I suspected… But this was the last thing I needed right now. Especially after Gregory’s declaration only a bit ago. I had no time to join a quintet.

  I forced the disapproval into my voice, even as a small part of me wanted to discover more. “I want no part in this, I’ve my own work to focus on. Besides, I can’t be seen with you… riff-raff.”

  “Oh, yeah.” David’s teeth flashed. “This is gonna be boss.”

  I dropped his hand and stepped away, preparing to make my exit. “I told you I—”

  “Miss Gloria!” Gregory’s shout sliced through the air. An instant later, he was there, pushing past both Caleb and David as he took their place in front of me. His arm was over my shoulders, and within a blink, I was pulled to his side.

  “What happened?” he asked, not looking at me at all. Instead, his focus was on Caleb. “What did you do?”

  “Oh, it’s you.” Caleb didn’t seem very scared of Gregory’s glare. “No wonder she left your sorry butt. You’re as stuffy and boring as ever. How did you even manage to get a date?”

  “I’m not here on a date!” Gregory’s cheeks turned pink, and his arm stiffened over my shoulders. “We’re colleagues! Miss Gloria is a new hire in my department. We’re working.”

  “How do you know each other?” I glanced between the two of them, noting the similar expressions of loathing.

  “Caleb is my younger brother,” Gregory replied, not moving his gaze from the other man. His voice took on a slightly more appeasing tone. “Caleb, we need to interview Jordan Bigelow.”

  Caleb’s expression closed as David stepped forward. “Why?” The blonde’s expression was wary. “Chief has no beef with anyone.”

  “He’s not in trouble.” Gregory sighed, waving his hand. “At least not from my department. I don’t care what you and your little friends might be up to.” His gaze flickered toward Caleb. “Although, I probably should—”

  “It’s not any of your business,” Caleb snapped, crossing his arms. The defensiveness in his tone made it seem like he actually wanted Gregory to care. “I don’t need to listen to you. And don’t spread lies. We’re only half-brothers.”

  “Come to think of it, this might be unavoidable. She needs to meet him anyway.” David stepped forward with his hands outstretched. “You know, considering…”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. This is all wrong.” Caleb frowned. “There is no way that broad could be my controller. I can bench this chick.”

  Gregory’s brows furrowed as he looked between us. “What’s he talking about?” he asked, his attention landing on me, wariness lacing his voice.

  “He isn’t talking about anything of substance,” I replied, grabbing Gregory as I moved past him. “I agree with Mr. Weaver. He’s delusional. Goodbye.” I didn’t even glance back as I held on to Gregory’s hand, pulling him after me.

  David was wrong.

  To be in a quintet meant that you were no longer accountable for only yourself. You were one of five people with comparable strength. Each elemental representative within a group served a designated purpose. Quintets were stronger than individuals. But you were also weaker too, because within a quintet, abilities could be contained.

  There were two reasons why being in a quintet wasn’t an appealing idea at all. My first concern could never be changed. Gregory and Michael had the right idea—to forgo this kind of moderation.

  We needed to go somewhere more public than this. Surely, they’d not make a scene with others around.

  Besides, a brush with the underworld tended to drain a shifter of their energy. I was ravenous. It was something that only a nice, juicy steak could cure.

  I was sure to feel better away from both Gregory and Caleb too. Unfortunately, I was stuck with one of them for the foreseeable future. But perhaps it’d be easier to resist their spell if the other was gone.

  Alas, David and Caleb didn’t get the hint with our departure.

  Instead, they fell into step behind us as I led Gregory from the alley. I tried to ignore them at first, but once we’d crossed the street and entered the parking lot, I dropped Gregory’s arm. Turning toward the two of them, I put my hands on my hips, preparing to chase them away.

  Michael’s black Bentley was parked on the far side of the lot. I didn’t see him, but it was a matter of time before he joined us.

  They had to leave before Michael showed up. The last thing I needed was him asking questions. He was already going to be annoying enough due to my disheveled appearance.

  I was still hurting, even though pain faded with each passing moment. I had no physical wounds, thankfully. When a shikigami attacked, their effects tended to be more spiritual in nature. Well, other than times where they pulled their victims into their world. Or the demons were released into ours. But only the Xing held that kind of power.

  Considering that, it would only be a short while longer until everything was back to normal.

  However, mentally… I was still cowering. I didn’t have the capacity to offset Michael at the moment. This was the worst first week of work in the history of disasters. I was making a terrible impression.

  It had to be a shikigami. Out of everything in the world, it had to be that.

  I’d already turned toward the men following us, ready to speak, when Gregory cut me off.

  “What do you want?” he asked, this time moving in front of me again. His focused gaze narrowed in on his brother. “If you’re not going to help, why are you following us? I don’t have time to waste on you.”

  “I don’t want to be with you either. But she went against Petra Ward,” Caleb replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “When we arrived, he’d already summoned that pest o
f his. Why do you think we were there? I’m making sure they don’t come back, at least until you leave the area.”

  Gregory’s hand tightened, and he glanced down at me. Worry colored his expression as his mouth dipped. “You went against an onmyoji, alone?”

  “I’m fine,” I protested, not liking the sympathetic glint in his eyes. “It’s not the onmyoji that is the problem.”

  How was I supposed to prove that I could kick butt while Gregory looked at me with pity? But he thought I was strong, he’d said so earlier. I only had to convince him it was a one-time thing.

  Perhaps we should spar to reclaim some of my wounded pride. Punching him might make him less appealing too, so there were other benefits.

  I’d do anything. They needed to move on. The situation had passed, and everything was under control. Everything would be fine so long as—

  “What in the world happened here?” A sharp voice cut through my thoughts. Michael was here before I’d even sensed his approach. He glanced over my form, his focus zeroed in on the patches of dirt, the tears in the tweed fabric of my skirt.

  Usually, Michael’s expression held a hint of humor. But at the moment, there was nothing but professionalism—and anger—in his gaze.

  His lips thinned, and he stepped toward me, hand outstretched.

  It happened too quickly for me to stifle my reaction. Although distant, the screams of the damned still echoed in my ear. Evil energy still prickled over my skin. And even though Michael didn’t have a shikigami, his power was suffocating.

  Before I could stop myself, I jerked away. Cowardly hiding farther behind Gregory’s back. I was so ashamed that my body trembled still.

  Michael froze, a flicker of hurt crossing his face, and his brows furrowed. I tore my gaze from him, glaring at the ground in annoyance at my own pathetic reaction.

  “Just give me a minute,” I mumbled. “It’ll be fine.”

  I wasn’t certain if he heard me, but his hand fell. “What happened?” Michael asked again, this time directing his question to Gregory.

  “Where have you been?” Gregory was still holding my hand, and his thumb moved comfortingly in a circle over my skin. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “It doesn’t look like you’ve been doing much waiting,” Michael responded, his tone still short. “I told you to stay put. Why does Gloria look like this?”

  His words rang through me as the last of my terror melted away. I didn’t know what ‘this’ looked like, but it was unacceptable.

  Gregory dropped his hand as I pushed back, tugging at my clothes to straighten them. My hands moved to my hair, the long locks no longer pinned away from my face. Large portions had escaped. I pulled at them, trying to twist everything back so I looked presentable again.

  “I’m fine.” I finished my hair—as best I could without a mirror—and hid my shaking hands at my sides. “I just got into a little altercation. It isn’t a big deal.”

  “She was trying to fight Petra Ward,” David interjected, causing Michael’s attention to shift toward him. He’d been silent awhile, but with Michael’s presence, his stance had perked.

  Michael’s attention snapped back to me. “Gloria…”

  “It’s nothing,” I pressed, stepping back again. Unfortunately, Caleb was behind me, so I was prevented from moving farther.

  Michael’s angular jaw tightened. His shoulders were tense, his eyebrow twitched, and I knew he wanted to say something. However, he held himself back, and for that, I was grateful.

  “Why were you outside?” he asked Gregory. “What happened to Petra?” His words confirmed my earlier suspicion—this Petra person had a reputation. Gregory had known of him, and now Michael.

  Gregory shrugged and shot me an apologetic look. “We were waiting inside, but I might have upset Gloria…”

  “You upset her?” Michael asked.

  “Petra beat feet right before Greg showed up,” Caleb interjected, crossing his arms. “The idiot said something stupid about you wanting to meet Chief.”

  “Ah.” Michael’s posture straightened, professionalism leaking back into his voice. “Yes. We need to talk to Jordan Bigelow. He’s—”

  “It’s not happening.” Caleb’s shoulders tensed. “Your kind has done enough damage.”

  “Caleb!” David frowned at his friend, failing to use his pseudonym. “We have to take her to see Jordan! He’ll want to see her,” he said, nodding toward me as he flicked his cigarette away.

  My heart jerked. David was not giving up on this quintet idea. “I told you no!”

  “No to what?” Michael glanced between us, and within a moment, he and Gregory moved between me and the two men.

  “This again,” Gregory interjected, tone wary. “Why would Jordan Bigelow want to see Miss Gloria?”

  Caleb responded, his tone mocking, “You tell me first: Why do you want to see Jordan Bigelow?”

  “We’re talking about two different issues, I think,” David interrupted, his voice losing the gruff accent he’d had earlier. I narrowed my eyes at the witch. I obviously wanted nothing to do with this nonsense, and David seemed intelligent.

  Perhaps he’d keep it a secret. After all, Caleb hadn’t liked the idea either. Everyone involved had to be in agreement—

  “She’s one of us,” David declared shamelessly. “She’s one of our quintet.”

  The stupid traitor.

  If this thing was meant to be between us, he was the one meant to help me discover my greatest potential. And here he was, being all blabber-mouthed.

  “David…” I growled, glaring at him around Gregory’s arm. I was going to kill him.

  “Now look, she’s mad at you,” Caleb observed, raising his eyebrow. “You’ll need to watch yourself.”

  “I don’t care. She’s never going to grow if she’s hiding behind your brother.” David shook his head, brushing away some of the blond curls that had fallen over his eyes. “I’m doing my job. Besides, I’m not scared of her. Unlike you.”

  “You’re wrong, I’m not scared of her!” Caleb pushed David. “Why would I be afraid of a silly girl?”

  “Because she can kick your ass.” David regained his balance, undisturbed. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out another cigarette, bringing it to his lips. “She could eat you alive if she wanted. And you don’t want anyone telling you what to do.”

  “How interesting.” Gregory shifted suddenly. “And so very fitting. Karma is served.”

  “You shut up!” Caleb shot his brother an annoyed look.

  “Anyway…” Michael cleared his throat. And, surprisingly, didn’t even seem to be interested or affected by this conversation. Instead, he changed the subject. “What does that have to do with Jordan Bigelow?”

  “He’s in our group too,” David replied. “We’ve decided to stick together while we waited for our fifth.”

  “That’s why you joined a gang?” Gregory’s carefully poised voice slipped, and he sounded genuinely surprised. “I always wondered. Who is the last member?”

  “It’s not your business, Greg.” Caleb gritted his teeth, shooting a glare at David. “And you, shut up. You’re wrong.” His gaze turned toward me, and his expression shifted. Genuine regret shadowed his smooth face as his deep brown eyes held mine. The look he gave me caused my heart to echo in my ears.

  “Baby”—his voice was like silk—“this world ain’t for the faint of heart. You’re a delicate thing. You’re as frail as you are tall. You could get hurt out here. Why don’t you—”

  He fell to the ground in a heap while I stood over him, my arm still raised. Stinging radiated from the place where my palm connected to his face. “Say that again, you sexist jerk.”

  “I was complimenting you!” Caleb held his face as he looked up at me with wide eyes. “I can’t stop myself. It’s the natural instinct of a man to protect a woman.”

  I studied him. His long, lean legs. His trim waist only accentuated by the tightness of his worn leather jacket. His
skin was so perfect that it almost seemed to glow. His face was oval and symmetrical, and his eyes were framed by long, dark lashes.

  He was almost too beautiful to be human.

  Yet here he was, definitely real. And spouting idiotic nonsense. This had to be a joke. Because if this was reality, I was completely screwed. Already, I didn’t want to leave this poor man to fend for himself in the wild. He’d be eaten alive.

  Chapter Seven

  Caleb was far more fragile-looking than me, for sure. It didn’t help that looking at him made my mouth water.

  Gregory already had my instincts roused as the need to defend the fae stirred.

  However, with Caleb it wasn’t the same. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to eat him, protect him, or something entirely different. But there was something about him I couldn’t ignore.

  It was alarming, because unlike other shifters, I’d never had a taste for human flesh before. It was also illegal to eat fae, anyway.

  David cleared his throat as Michael moved behind me, and I realized I’d been staring.

  “No thanks,” I said, lowering my arm as I stepped back. “And will you make up your mind? You act like a gangster, but you keep slipping up. What’s with the sudden poetic prose?”

  “Caleb isn’t a gangster, even though he wishes he were. He is a scholar,” Gregory responded, moving to my other side. He raised his eyebrow, amused, as he looked at me. “My half-brother was one of the school’s youngest doctoral students. He’s not suited for this lifestyle. His composition cannot handle it.”

  “Doctoral?” I glanced at Caleb, my interest piqued. And it was nice to know that someone else had noticed the man’s frailty. “You’re a physician?”

  “Shut your mouth! I wish we weren’t related at all.” Caleb didn’t look at me as he stumbled to his feet, his arm covering his mouth. “We’re leaving.” He stalked past David, grabbing at the other man’s arm as he went. But David jerked away, frowning.

  Caleb didn’t even stop. He continued to move in the direction we’d come from.

  David shot a worried look after Caleb then glanced back to us, somewhat abashed. “I can’t bring you without him,” he said apologetically, tilting his head in the other man’s direction. “But he’ll come around. He knows where you work,” he told Gregory. “I’ll talk to him. After that”—he looked at me—“you can meet with Jordan. He’ll be interested in—”