by Allie Burton
* * *
The warehouse was located in the area south of Market. In the early morning light the graffiti-painted outside walls were clearly visible. Most of the dirty windows were broken. The door we entered appeared to have been kicked in several times. Not the nicest place. Or the most welcoming.
I’d gone from four-star hotels and symphony halls, to Grandfather’s house, to…this.
Falcon took me down rickety metal stairs to the main concrete floor.
“At least we have a place where we can live together, learn about this modern world, and practice how to use our powers without inflicting harm.”
The disoriented feeling fuzzed my brain. “Learn about the modern world?”
“Only Olivia and Xander are from this time.” Falcon stopped in a large, open room and pointed around at the ripped gym mats lining most of the floor and a warren of doorways leading off the main room. “Those of us who used to be shabtis come from varying time periods throughout history. Antony,” Falcon waved at a guy who had dark hair wearing only workout shorts. “He’s from Cleopatra’s time.”
My eyes widened, staring at Antony. Not because he had a great body, which he did, but the fact he was born when Cleopatra lived. Was he that Antony?
“Welcome to our temporary home, Aria.” Olivia strode into the main room. Her long braid swung behind straight shoulders.
Xander walked with her. His relaxed grin showed he was the less serious of the two.
My midsection squirmed. “Thanks.” I didn’t know what to say, what to think.
“It’s a lot to comprehend.” Xander threw an arm around Olivia’s shoulders. “When I first attempted to explain the Society, their history, the powers to Olivia she didn’t believe me, either.”
“You have to admit, hosting the soul of King Tut is hard to believe for a two-bit thief like me.” Olivia teased Xander.
“I never called you a two-bit thief.” Xander bestowed a devastatingly attractive smile at Olivia. “You were brilliant.”
When I’d first met Olivia and Xander I’d guessed they were a romantic couple. The simple contact of his arm over her shoulder and the teasing banter confirmed my perception.
“The Society left Aria a gift.” Falcon held out the box holding Grandfather’s ear. “They cut off Professor York’s ear.”
I shivered thinking about the pain Grandfather must be in.
“The Society is getting desperate.” Olivia took the box and handed it to Xander.
“Have you heard from Math?” Falcon sounded all-business.
“Not yet.” Olivia gave me a sideways glance. “I see you’ve found the trumpet of war.”
My fingers clutched tighter around the handle of the case. “Yes.”
“I can lock it in our safe.” Olivia reached her hand out.
Pressure squeezed my chest. I peered around the building, searching for an escape. I’d put my trust in Falcon. Didn’t mean I was going to hand over the trumpet to anyone. And I was surprised this place had a safe.
I tucked the case closer to my body. “Until we find my grandfather, I’ll keep the trumpet by my side.”
“Aria, you can trust us. We’re here to help.” Falcon’s smooth tone tried to win me over.
I wasn’t falling for it. “You said I’d be safe in the warehouse. If I’m safe, the trumpet is safe.”
“What about your desire to play?” Olivia’s sympathetic voice persuaded.
“I promise not to play the trumpet. I can resist.” If that was their real concern.
Mine was keeping the trumpet close, safe from friends or enemies.
* * *
“Ready?” Falcon waited in the center of the blue mat. He’d changed into shorts and a T-shirt with no sleeves. His ripped arms and muscular legs showed his strength. I’d almost swooned when I spotted him.
Olivia had insisted I try to sleep, but I’d only lasted about an hour in her bed. How could I sleep when Grandfather was missing his ear?
Olivia had made me a quick snack and then given me shorts and a T-shirt to wear. I didn’t look anywhere near as comfortable or as confident as she did in them.
“Why do I need to learn martial arts?” I wasn’t an athletic type of person. I was musical. I spent hours sitting in my chair and playing my flute. I didn’t work out. And I certainly didn’t fight.
“Numerous reasons.” He stood in a defensive stance, feet shoulder-width apart. “You need to be able to defend yourself. You need to learn to focus on an object to take your mind off of things. And you need to control your powers.”
His last proclamation had me stumbling forward. “Powers?”
Falcon had talked about powers and magic and essences before. I didn’t understand how they applied to me. I didn’t have powers.
“Haven’t you experienced a new strength or agility since playing the trumpet?”
I thought back to breaking into the antique shop. The way the window popped open with a touch. How I’d swung my body to the window and easily climbed inside. I’d attributed it to adrenaline, but maybe…
He took my hand and pulled me into the center of the mat. “You have.”
I regarded the trumpet case sitting at the edge. Olivia wasn’t pleased when I’d insisted on keeping the case by my side. I’m not sure what Falcon had whispered in her ear, but she’d assented.
Glancing back at Falcon, I studied his muscular arms and legs. This wasn’t going to be a fair fight. If I was going to learn martial arts, we’d have to spar. I’d probably end up on my back. Numerous times. It would bruise. “I’m recovering from a bad car accident.”
“Have you had any symptoms since playing the trumpet?”
I thought back to when Grandfather had been kidnapped. How I’d struggled to keep pace with him and how my muscles had protested the walk uphill. After playing the trumpet, I’d broken into Gordon’s shop using an acrobatic move I didn’t know how to do. I’d hit the tile floor and felt fine.
Flexing and stretching my legs, I analyzed my body. I didn’t hurt. My muscles appeared healed. “No.”
“The trumpet has made you stronger. Healed your injuries.”
I wanted to tap dance. Instead, my heart jittered with joy. I was healed. No more doctors or physical therapy. If my body could do that, I could learn martial arts. “Okay.”
“Sebekkah, an ancient Egyptian martial art, will help.”
“Never heard of it.” I hadn’t heard of or believed most of the new things I’d learned since moving to San Francisco, since playing the trumpet of war, since meeting Falcon.
“I’ll combine it with modern martial arts.” He dropped my hand and turned his body sideways. The light in his eager gaze showed his enjoyment of the sport. “The discipline will help control your mind and your body.”
He did some high, head-height kicks. Impressive. A trained fighter.
Blowing out a breath, I let the air cool my heated body. He looked like an action hero. Handsome. Muscular. Deadly. “How long have you been doing this?”
“I learned Sebekkah in my former life. The rest I’ve learned since coming out of my shabti form.” He stepped in front of me. “We’ll start with some defensive moves. Blocks.”
Falcon talked as he demonstrated. Single forearm block, low block, rising block, palm block, knife hand block, etc.
“Your turn.” He called out the names while showing the move again.
I moved along with him, following his actions and feeling silly.
“Good. Now, I’m going to attack you and I want you to use the moves.”
“Which ones?”
“You need to decide what will defend you best.” He took a position with both feet pointed forward and shoulder-width apart. His arms were slightly bent with clenched fists positioned at his narrow waist. He appeared relaxed. I knew appearances could be wrong.
The contents of my tummy swished. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’ll be fine.” He winked.
My nerves fluttered and
the muscles in my stomach clenched. “What about me?”
“You’ll be fine, too.” He threw a punch.
I countered with a simple forearm block, moving fast and without thought as if I’d been practicing for years. “Hah. Stopped ya.”
His deep laughter echoed in the warehouse and rumbled in my chest. “Once.”
His leg flicked out. High. Toward my head.
I didn’t think. Just reacted. I ducked, bending at the waist, and used my head, literally. I rammed my head into his rock-hard abs.
He stumbled back, rubbing his stomach. “Quick thinking.”
“They don’t call me fast-flute for nothing.”
“They don’t call me fast-foot for no reason, either.” He stepped toward me. His foot lifted an inch off the ground, about to strike with his leg.
I took a defensive stance, ready to block a kick. Firming my muscles, I waited for his attack.
He doubled over. His arms wrapped around my waist. He lifted me and brought me down to the mat on my back.
“Umph.” Breath escaped in a whoosh. My hair grew staticky at his touch, sending sparks of electricity through my body.
The worn mats smelled of plastic and old sweat.
“You okay?” He ran fingers through my short hair. “I must weigh a ton.”
He lay on top of me covering every inch of my body. Heat sizzled between us, sparking desire on contact. The attraction was more than our connection to the trumpet. We had an affinity, as if our souls had a bond.
“Um.” Physically, I was okay. Emotionally, I was dazed, embarrassed, confused. “Um.”
A sudden rush of adrenaline, or power, screamed through my body. I bent my leg across the back of his knees, rotated my waist and used my shoulders to slip from beneath him and twist him around. Now, I lay on top of him, holding him down.
Disbelief warred with victory. I dominated. “Who’s on top of whom now?”
“Yeah, look at that.” His words came out in a breathless whisper. His eyes liquefied with lust.
My muscles melted. Not with weakness. With desire.
Our connection intensified. My bare legs tangled with his bare legs. My chest smashed against his chest. Heat flared between us from sweat and desire. A heat sparking and igniting different parts of my body.
My head lowered toward him. His mouth opened in welcome. Our breaths intertwined, not knowing where the two separated.
Since playing the trumpet, I wasn’t good at not taking what I wanted. And I wanted to kiss Falcon. I opened my mouth.
Chapter Eleven
Aria
I wanted to kiss Falcon. But should I?
We’d just met. He was from another century. He wanted to control me and keep me safe. The ramifications of taking this step walloped my lungs, shocked my heart, and extinguished the desire.
Falcon’s eyes closed. His lips moved closer.
My body stiffened. There were so many things I didn’t understand. Didn’t believe. How could I kiss the guy who was telling me these possible lies? A guy who’d played my trumpet?
Instead of puckering, I leaned on my elbows, using the adrenaline pulsing through me to make my move. I scrambled to my knees and then my feet. I placed my foot on his stomach.
Victory puffed my chest. My shoulders straightened. I’d conquered the enemy.
“Nice move.” The unknown male voice came from the direction of the kitchen.
I shifted to ogle the Soul Warrior walking toward the mat.
Another strong male with dark hair and green eyes.
Falcon wiggled beneath my bare foot. Flags of red stood out on his cheeks. “That wasn’t a fair move.”
I lifted my foot so he could get up more easily. With his strength he could’ve easily grabbed my ankle and thrown me to the ground.
“All’s fair in love and war.” The other warrior winked. “I learned that in our literature lesson.”
This guy had seen our almost-kiss. My cheeks burned. “This is neither love or war.”
Getting to his feet, Falcon sent me a wicked smile, one promising we’d finish this discussion and possibly the kiss later. He faced the other guy. “Any news on the trumpet of peace, Math?”
Math was an odd name. But so was Falcon.
Math’s expression dimmed. He’d gone from teasing to tepid at the mention of the other trumpet.
My trumpet, the trumpet of war, was more important. And finding Grandfather was even more imperative. “What about my grandfather? We need to find him.”
Guilt gnawed and pinched my skin. Back to reality. Grandfather was hurt and in captivity and I’d been learning to fight and thinking about a kiss.
“We’ve got people searching for him, too. Watching places.” Falcon glanced between me and Math. He acted nervous.
“Where?” My pitch rose with urgency. I couldn’t stay in the warehouse and do nothing. I had to find Grandfather.
“Gordon’s home and shop. The Society’s mansion.” Math crooked his finger at Falcon.
“The Society has a mansion? Where?”
“Sunset District.” Falcon paid more attention to Math pointing with his head.
“Falcon, there’s something we have to discuss. In private.”
I didn’t like Math’s secretiveness. Why were they keeping things from me?
“All right.” Falcon walked toward Math. “Aria, I’ll be back.”
The two guys walked away from me, both whispering to each other. Both appearing similar with their dark hair and muscular builds. Falcon was taller and leaner, and I was only attracted to him.
Shaking off the attraction, I needed to focus on finding Grandfather, not my love life.
I moved to a pile of unused mats where I’d set the trumpet case. Placing my palm against the leather, I sensed the trumpet’s essence. Sensed it calling to me, wanting me to play. I’d been resisting the urge. Of course, Falcon had been with me constantly so I hadn’t had an opportunity. He ignored me now. Too busy.
Temptation tingled my skin. My fingers itched. I could open the case and have a peek. Make sure the trumpet was protected in the black velvet interior.
“Aria, there’s a lead on the location of your grandfather.” Falcon fisted his hands open and closed, strolling toward me. “I’m going with Math to find Professor York.”
I stood, gripping the handle on the trumpet case. “I’ll come with.”
“No. You’re not ready to deal with the Society. Besides, you need to keep yourself and the trumpet safe.”
Falcon had confidence in me to keep the trumpet safe. Of course, I was in the warrior’s warehouse. How could I lose the trumpet here? He must not trust me to go along.
He stepped closer, as if he wanted to hug or kiss me goodbye. Instantaneous sprinkles traversed my skin.
He stepped back, stared at the ground. “Stay here. I won’t be gone long.”
The tingling stopped and confusion flittered inside. Each step he took away echoed inside me. Normally, I didn’t mind being alone. I’d gotten even more used to it over the last several months. But his footprints pounded on my chest.
Anger about being left behind, about him not trusting me while he expected me to trust everything he said, ate at my insides. Insecurity about being in this strange place, with even stranger people, in a new city, worried in my gut.
I picked up the trumpet case. The urge to play grew stronger. I needed to distract myself.
The sparse kitchen had once been a break room for warehouse workers. A dirty refrigerator hummed loudly. A microwave and a broken dishwasher.
I took a popcorn packet and put it in the microwave. The cheerful popping seemed out of place in the dreary warehouse. The warriors really needed to find a better location.
The microwave dinged and I took out the popcorn, the buttery scent filling the room. Munching my way to the next room, I sat at a well-worn table filled with piles of books, setting the case beside me. History, literature, science, and manuals on how to use electronics were sitting o
ut and obviously used frequently.
Is this where Math had learned the term all is fair in love and war? Where were the other guys?
I picked up a book about ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses. From what Falcon told me, they’d know this subject. Except for Olivia and Xander.
Flipping through page after page, I stopped at the section about Horus, the god of war. The god Falcon supposedly served under. Here was a way for me to learn something about Falcon on my own.
The image on the page showed a one-dimensional drawing of a man with a bird for a head, topped by a red-and-white crown.
Horus, the god of war, was known for vengeance, sky and kingship. He was ancient Egypt’s national patron god. He was most often depicted as a falcon.
My heart stuttered and my mind tried to wrap around the information. The new nugget of knowledge plopped in my swirling stomach, throwing everything inside me off-balance. I continued to read the chapter.
“Learning about Egyptian gods and goddesses?” Olivia leaned against the doorframe, untwisting her braid.
My head jerked up. “Is Falcon the god of war?”
Olivia’s serene smile was in direct contrast to everything I felt. “Horus, also known as Falcon, is the god of war. Your Falcon—”
“My Falcon?” Is that what Olivia thought?
“The Falcon you know is only named after the real god of war.” She re-braided her hair.
“Why would his parents name him that? Was it a tradition back in his time period?” The last question sounded so wrong.
“No. When each of the shabtis came back to life we found out the Society had named them all Xander.”
“That had to be confusing.” I placed my palm on the trumpet case on top of the table. Just feelings its essence made me stronger.
“It was.” A confiding, slight-upturn-of-the-lips smile lit her face. “So, each of the shabtis chose his own name.”
“Why would Falcon name himself after a representation of the god of war?”
He’d told me how repulsed he was by violence and war. How he’d seen his family killed. How he’d been part of the destruction.
“You’ll have to ask Falcon his reasons.” Olivia walked farther into the room, spun around. “How are you finding the warehouse?”