by A. C. Arthur
“I will hurry with the next fittings and we can be on our way. I would like to stop by the hotel to see if my box has been delivered.” Stay focused, think of the task ahead and nothing else. Keeping those words forefront in her mind was imperative.
She did not wait for his response, but hurried back to the dressing room, falling back against the door when it was closed.
“He is not meant for you.”
For a second she didn’t move, thinking these words were in her mind as well.
But then the voice—that was not hers—continued, “The one you are here to marry is not the one meant for you.”
For the second time today, she turned quickly to see Ziva standing in that corner, this time holding those sticks with a grip so tight her knuckles were turning white.
Chapter Seven
There were impossibly high ceilings in this place and walls that were in some places jagged pieces of light and darker gray rock. In other places, like here in what looked like a massive den or study, they were cool and smooth as Shola dragged her fingers across it. She could not sleep in this strange place, the second in as many nights. Thoughts and questions had been running through her mind at breakneck speed until she felt woozy with indecision. There had been no other choice but for her to get up from the bed and get some air. Only she had yet to find a door that would take her outside and she’d been walking for at least twenty minutes.
The impromptu self-led tour wasn’t so bad; she had never been inside of a mountain before. And she doubted this place looked like any other mountain in this world. She stepped down into the room, her slipper-clad feet moving from the smooth cement surface that ran through all the hallways to the sinking sensation of plush carpet. From somewhere in the room, a soft white illumination similar to natural moonlight filled the space. There was warmth here, like she hadn’t felt in the other hallways and much smaller spaces she’d seen of this place so far. That feeling guided her toward one of several light gray couches, where she took a seat and sighed with the comfort that immediately engulfed her.
“That’s how I feel sometimes when I come in here and sit down. It’s one of my calming places.”
She startled, a hand going to her chest as her eyes widened and she looked to the couch at her left where he was sprawled.
“You should announce yourself and not frighten people.”
“You entered the room I was in, stands to reason you should’ve been the one announcing yourself. More importantly, what’re you doing out of bed?”
“Not sleepy, just like you I suppose.”
Why did he look so effortlessly hot lying with one leg on and one leg off the couch?
“Got a lot on my mind; what’s your excuse?”
She shrugged. “Got a lot on my mind.”
“You should have a calming place. I find they help in centering your thoughts.”
It was true. Her altar was one place to find her center; the water was the other. “When at my home, I swim. The water is my calm.”
He was silent for moments after her admission.
“Tracer demonics,” he said finally.
“What?”
“That’s one of the things on my mind. Now you tell me one of the things on yours?”
He sounded as if he were having a general conversation with anyone in the world. Not sitting in his den with her—the one selected to save a tribe of people from colonization. And as if that were not strange enough, she felt like she wanted to answer him, although she knew she should not. No one could know she was born to kill.
“What are tracer demonics?”
For a few seconds he only stared at her, wondering why she had dodged his question most likely. But her mission was a secret, not even her parents knew what she had really been sent here to do.
“I thought you might have read about them too, you know, during your studies.”
She didn’t respond because she’d forgotten that she’d already mentioned reading about demonics and other things.
He shrugged at her silence and continued. “They’re the ones who attacked us last night. They hunt for power, storing it like food to energize themselves. And they tracked us. Got any thoughts on why they’d do that?”
The tips of her fingers tingled, as if to give him the answer he searched for. She kicked off her slippers, pulled her legs up on the couch and stuffed her hands between them. He couldn’t see her power, no one could, until she used it, but this position offered another layer of protection.
“I am not from this place, so I have no knowledge of why things happen here. Why do you think they attacked?”
He sat up now, his legs gaped open, eyes watching her too closely. Like he expected to see the words she refused to say.
“I think they sensed a power source, and they tried to claim it. I think there’s someone after you, which is why I keep asking you about your husband-to-be, who’s still MIA.”
“He is not missing in action.”
“Oh, so you know where he is? Well, then how about first thing tomorrow morning we pay him a visit? Because if I think you’re in danger, he sure as hell should know about it.”
There was an edge to his words now and it matched the fierce look in his eyes. They almost glowed to neon brightness, which could not be right. Theo was a security guard; he had no other powers. Maybe she was tired and did need to sleep. She certainly didn’t need to sit here and be hounded with questions she could not answer. Yet, she didn’t move.
“Ziva mentioned a dinner or party or something on the schedule for tomorrow night. He will be there, and you can tell him what you want at that time. But he will not agree with you.” Just as she didn’t. There was no reason for her to be in danger here because no one knew why she was here. Or did they?
He stood then as if he were impatient and needed to move or...or...she didn’t know what he would do. When she was impatient or felt any anxiety, she swam for hours and hours just letting the cool water rinse all the worry and stress away. She wondered if there were a place here to do that.
“What do you think?”
She watched him pace back and forth after asking his question, before eventually stopping to stand directly in front of her. He appeared larger than life in the white-silver glow of the room, wearing only baggy shorts and a sleeveless shirt that clung to his body. The muscles in his arms bulged and strength poured from him in waves.
“I think there are things about this place that I do not have information about. These demonics you referenced, they do not only attack women from out of town. And the trouble at the hotel had nothing to do with me, because I was in the room with you. Yes, they were strange happenings, but you cannot reasonably connect them to me.”
Or perhaps he could and she just didn’t want to see it, because her focus had to remain on one goal only. If there were danger, the goddess would protect her until this was done.
“But there’s something about you.”
His tone was questioning, almost perplexed, and matched her exact thoughts about him. It was really time for her to go to bed now. She rushed to stand, but he did not move, and so their bodies collided and he gripped her arms to keep her still.
* * *
The beast was growing used to the feel of her and thumbing its nose at Theo for continuing to fight the recognition. He couldn’t tell it to go to hell; by keeping it locked away, he’d already banished his other half to a form of purgatory. But he could push the disruptive bastard to the side even if he couldn’t take his hands off the woman slicing divisiveness between them.
“I’ll walk you to your room.” That was the smart thing to do, and it would give him more time with her, to ask more questions of course.
“Fine, but you’ll have to let me go first.”
He would have to let her go. Those words rolled around in his head, sparking a memory from far awa
y, one he’d much rather forget. They hadn’t wanted him to go, she’d said so, and he’d felt his father’s rage but Theo had made up his mind; there’d been nothing left for him in the Far Realm.
He dropped his hands from Shola’s bare arms and took a step back. When she’d slipped her feet into her slippers, he walked toward one of the doorways to this room, the one facing the back of the house.
“Where are we going?”
“This way will get us to the west wing faster.”
“This place is like a maze,” she said, falling in step beside him.
“I guess it could be to those who aren’t familiar with it.”
“Do you even let people become familiar with it? I mean, do you invite people here to socialize?”
The question wasn’t as odd as it should have been to him. Humans socialized. They worked and built connections and formed families, lives, etcetera. All things that he’d decided his human half would never need.
“No. The Towers is the building I own in downtown Burgess. That’s where I host all business meetings.”
“So why is that building called the Towers and this one called the Office? Seems backward to me.”
They were nearing the stairwell, passing through a narrow walkway where the cool stone walls glistened with moisture. He stopped and she stared up at him. There was no way he was telling her that naming his home the Office was an attempt to throw off anyone or any being that may suspect who and what he really was on this realm.
“I thought it was clever,” was his reply and he hoped it would satisfy her curiosity.
She shrugged.
“I don’t get you, Shola. Why you’re here, why you’re marrying a man you obviously know nothing about, how this is all going to turn out for you. I don’t get any of that.”
“You are not supposed to.” The words were spoken softly just before her tongue skated over her lower lip.
His gaze followed the action before he forced himself to look into her eyes once more. She was engaged to another man. Above all the other issues that came with her, that was the biggest. Poaching was not a trait he indulged in.
“Tell me what I’m supposed to do, Shola. I’m a little confused here. You, this job, nothing is as it seems.”
He was pleasantly startled when she lifted a hand to touch the side of his face. “You are not as you seem. Your eyes—”
Shit! Theo blinked and turned his face away from her touch. He stepped back, only to slam into the wall behind him.
“I’ll take you to your room.” The words rushed out of him and he started up the steps. She was dangerous for more reasons than tracer demonics or some man that probably didn’t deserve her.
They didn’t speak again until he was turning the knob and pushing her door open.
“I would offer to tuck you in but—”
“I can do it myself.”
She took a step into the room and Theo grabbed her arm.
“What else can you do, Shola?”
Theo knew she was different. He’d even been entertaining thoughts that she was magickal, but his questions were taking him in circles. He needed her to tell him.
She lowered her head and stared down at his hand on her. “Not this,” she said and shook her head. “My purpose is bigger than this.”
He watched as she eased out of his grip and stepped farther into the room before closing the door. Theo lifted a hand, touching his palm to the door where he could not only hear her heartbeat, but now felt it vibrating through the wood.
She had a purpose for being here.
And she acknowledged “this,” whatever it was brewing between them.
Answers, finally. It was a start.
Chapter Eight
On her second morning in Burgess, Shola was determined to move forward. First step in doing that was a call to the hotel to inquire about her delivery, which ended with a long, rushed explanation about things being in an upheaval there because of the murder. Of course, how could she have forgotten something so heinous? Taking a moment to offer adura for the transcendence of the woman’s life was a necessity. And only after the prayer did she realize how unbalanced she still felt here in the Western World.
She left her room, determined to concentrate more on her beliefs and destiny today. All the rest was a major distraction that she could not afford. Dressed in a long red skirt and top that hung slightly off her shoulders, she walked through hallways that were familiar to her now, thanks to the impromptu tour she had taken last night. The one that had ended with Theo and his many questions.
After a looping turn through one of the longer hallways, there was a larger area with glossy floors stretching left to right and a winding staircase going down in front of her. A glass barrier protected from the twenty-foot drop should she get too close to the edge of the floor, which she had almost done during her continued fascination with this place. She took the stairs slowly, picking up the scent of food as she came to the bottom.
Following that scent and the rumble that immediately began in her stomach, she rounded a corner to yet another huge high-ceilinged room with two long tables and chairs in its center. Massive portraits of landscapes hung on smooth walls in measured intervals. Mountains, crisp blue skies, rolling hills of grass and wings. A jolt of surprise and what might have been awareness stopped her in front of a picture of huge black wings.
“Majestic.”
She turned at the voice to see Ziva across the room with a plate in hand, moving along the marble countertop filled with pots and trays of food.
“Yes. It is.” She stared at the woman a moment longer than she probably should have, intrigued either by her skintight green pants and matching green halter top or the spiked hairstyle she wore—she hadn’t figured out which one yet.
Then there was their conversation in the dress shop yesterday, the one where Ziva shared her unsolicited opinion that Shola’s wedding was not meant to be. She hadn’t questioned Ziva’s comments because she didn’t want to engage in the conversation. Nobody was supposed to know her true reason for being here. Not even her parents knew. They thought the marriage itself would protect the Yoruba people of Mobo from being invaded by and eventually overruled by outsiders. Only Shola and the great Orisha Oya knew differently.
“Powerful too,” Ziva continued.
Shola turned away from the portrait and walked to one of the tables. Presuming it was self-serve, she picked up a glass and moved to the other end of the counter where Ziva was pouring orange juice.
“If you stare at the portrait long enough, you can feel the power emanating from it. Only a mighty one could fly with wings like that.” Ziva sounded like a tour guide.
The woman’s plate was heavy with food. Muffins, two types of bacon, sausage, eggs, waffles, and she just added a healthy scoop of what was probably strawberry jam. When she looked up to see Shola staring at her, she only shrugged. “An empty well is of no use to anyone,” she said.
Shola lifted her glass to her lips and sipped. “True,” she admitted after swallowing. Minutes later she was seated at the table, a much smaller plate than Ziva’s in front of her.
They ate in silence for a few moments before she asked, “What do you do here besides work security?”
“When I’m finished with breakfast, I’ll head downtown to the Tower. I have some dreaded paperwork that I’ve been putting off, and if I don’t get to it soon, Theo will blow his cork.”
“Is he a mean boss?” There was a definite intensity about the man. His physique combined with that chilling look she had seen him with when they’d climbed out of the truck at the dress shop yesterday were both intimidating. It wouldn’t be surprising if his staff feared him for those reasons, even though she hadn’t sensed fear from either Ziva or Reece yesterday.
“He’s fair and he’s focused,” Ziva told her. “He demands one hundred percen
t of all his agents.”
“He also demands honesty.”
This deep brisk voice was new to Shola, and she looked up to her left to see another man entering the room. He was also tall, his arms bulging with muscles and tattoos. He wore black jeans and a fitted black T-shirt, black boots and a scowl on an otherwise attractive face. His skin matched the light brown color of the biscuits on the counter and the distinct contrast of his long black locks and thick beard added an intense edge to his appearance. His eyes were a tawny brown color with what looked like sparks of orange.
None of them wore their sunglasses inside the Office. Theo, Ziva and Reece had kept them on while at the dress shop, but inside this place they were always off. With that thought, Shola immediately looked back at Ziva. Her eyes were hazel with green flecks.
“Theo doesn’t like when people aren’t up-front with him about everything. Especially clients,” the man spoke as he glared at Shola.
“Don’t mind Steele, he’s always grumpy,” Ziva told her. “Especially when he’s hungry.”
The guy, Steele, looked away from her to frown at Ziva. Then he walked over to the counter and began fixing his plate, as if Ziva’s words were right on point. Before Shola could ask more questions, another man came in.
“And here’s Steele’s big brother, Magnum. They’re both prickly and deadly, depending on which time of day you catch them.”
After Ziva’s sort of introduction, Shola found herself staring at yet another pretty large guy. She was beginning to think that being tall was a prerequisite to working for the Legion Security Company. This was the person who had come to the hotel yesterday morning. The one who was supposed to take over as her guard, before Theo changed his mind. Magnum’s skin tone was much darker than his brother’s, but his locked hair was the same, only a little longer as it scraped his waist. And his eyes were different. They were a wine color with bits of red that absolutely made her think of him as deadly. Both brothers were extremely well built, their jeans belted around tapered waists, upper bodies swollen with muscles.