Leaving Eden

by Kelly A Walker et al.

  “CHANGE. NOW!” Kingston demanded.

  With a haughty look, Camilla obliged. Although, she should have put some shorts on. The pasties weren’t awful, but the pork and beans overhanging the scrap of strings wasn’t a good look.

  Retta started to giggle and that rapidly turned into full out guffaws at the indignant expression warring with confusion on Quinton’s face. Ace took pity on her and led her over to a cushy couch to sink down onto. While she kept to the arm, Ace stretched out, nearly falling asleep.

  Jack lit into him before Kingston got the chance. “What the hell were you doing out there, Quint? You were on board the last time we talked about it. Attacking our intended bond wasn’t in the discussion. Maybe you need to spend less time in that form. It’s eating your brain.” Kingston nodded his agreement.

  Quinton started apologizing. “Retta, I’m so sorry. I have no idea what was going on. I could see and tried to stop, but it’s like I wasn’t in the driver’s seat. That’s never happened before. Not that I’m aware of, anyway.” Scared, he looked from her to Kingston, who looked concerned as well. Actually, they all did.

  “Retta, humor me for a moment, if you will?” Jack asked.

  She nodded her permission grudgingly.

  “Quint, put your hands on her arms again.”

  Warily, he did as Jack bade, most likely waiting to be tossed on his ass again in the process.

  “I apologize again, Retta. May I?”

  Retta extended her arms in invitation, sighing when Jack’s skin connected with hers. The pressing, twisting energy let up, flowing out of her, and proved Jack’s point as his exuberant flailing indicated.

  “I told you Boss!” Jack exclaimed. And there went her only calling him that. Figured.

  Remembering she was annoyed with Jack, Retta pushed him off. “Sorry, not into chicks. Or chicks with dicks either.” Retta gave Quinton a pointed stare. A brief flash of hurt flitted across his face before he steeled it into a sneer.

  “Don’t worry, honey. This...” he dragged his hand down his defined chest until he got to his crotch. Gripping his junk obscenely through the fabric covering, he gave it a good wag in her direction. “Isn’t interested in the slightest.” And he was correct. Through willpower or disgust, his dick stayed limp.

  Kingston interrupted before it could devolve further. “Enough. We have some things we need to discuss, and then these two can get some rest.”

  “I know you’re not inviting cookie monster here to bunk in with me.” Retta gestured to the sleeping hulk even as she stared Kingston down.

  “You have to stay close to him. If not touching, at least within touching distance. You’ll drive him insane, and most likely yourself, if you deny the bond. It’s already pushing at me and I’m sure Jack. I don’t know what is going on with our Queen.” Shaking his head, Kingston let her know her snort at ‘Queen’ wasn’t helpful.

  Oh well. She didn’t plan on making it easy on the asshole. Any of them. Wanting to get it all over with, Retta took the lead.

  “Alright, since the gang is almost all here, we’ll go over the basics. First, my brothers are disappearing and their last known whereabouts were here in the basement and the other out in the alley behind the buffet. I was pulled in as they vanished but there was nothing to go on when I arrived. Yes, Jack?” The chameleon had his hand raised in question.

  “That’s how you got out before we got down there?”

  “Yes, very few things can hold me from traveling. And no, I won’t tell you what those are; you’d be hard pressed to find anything on this plane anyway. So, back to what I was saying. I’m trying to find out where they’re going. Something or someone is taking them, and I won’t be able to stop looking or building energy so fast until I resolve it. Out of our generation, I hold Judgement. One of you will need to explain this to Priest when he pops up if he’s not the one behind it all.”

  Quinton bristled at that, while the expressions on the other two hold resignation. They’re sure Priest did it. But what’s Quinton’s deal? Leaving it for later, Retta continued explaining her origin to the men.

  At the part about the ice age, Jack snickered, making Retta shoot him an evil look. “Yes, Jackie boy, I caused a complete climate shift that allowed your ancestors to spread out across the world. Still want to fuck with me?” That shut him up so she could continue her story.

  A short time later, and no more snickers from any of them, Retta finished her story. “And voila! Here I am. And here you all are. Any questions?”

  The room was dead silent after her monologue. She’d at least expected some type of reaction. Even the douchey one was silent and thoughtful. More like calculating. Retta narrowed her eyes on that one. He’d bear watching.

  “Well,” she went on, “if you don’t have any questions, then I do. I want to know about this kismet BS and what we’re going to do about it.”

  Before any of them could answer, her face blanched with the pain ripping at her midsection. Glamour falling, the guys' eyes widened. That was the last thing she saw before she popped into a supply closet in the spa of the club. Again, nothing around and the massive build up just sucked off her like lint into a vacuum. What in the ever-loving fuck was going on here? Irritation tempered by the urge to take a nap let her know all she needed about the brother that went missing this time. Grigori, the embodiment of Sloth, must have come for some pampering. Completely ignored her warning to stay hidden. Flipping idiot.

  Annoyed, Retta popped back to her spot on the couch with a scowl, startling Ace who had woken up at the commotion Kingston and Jack were making while Quinton watched. Unconsciously, she reached out to pat his leg in comfort before catching herself.

  Having enough of the two bickering about what they should do, Retta put her fingers to her lips to let out a shrill, attention getting whistle.“Grigori is gone. Start explaining so I can get some rest and start hunting down anyone I can think of.” She was out of patience, and she wasn’t pussyfooting around the subject anymore. Surprisingly, and much to the displeasure of the others, Quinton relayed the facts.

  “You’re our mate. Our Kismet. The key to our true immortality. One of the deities bumped uglies in all their lines and it snowballed as no more females in their lines were being born, except me here, who was originally a twin but absorbed my sister. Only my higher reasoning survived and some of her traits when I shift. I’m more a skinwalker than anything, but people find it cute to term those like me ‘gender bender.’” For a moment, Retta was ashamed of her earlier words. Then she remembered the dick he was being and shrugged. Quinton unblinkingly resumed his tale.

  “We all have a bit of immortality running throughout our veins. Picture an upside-down tree; we’re the upper branches. A little here and there and those people came together. Then again and again until we hold nearly enough to pass for an immortal. Kingston here saw it. When Priest joined us a couple decades ago to build the club, it was like a switch being flipped. Our resident precog saw you, us, the bond. But not when or the circumstances. After the first few years, we figured it might have been a fluke. That is until Priest disappeared a couple weeks ago and now here you are, already bound to Big Blue there.” He didn’t sound particularly happy about it all, but at least he wasn't being antagonistic any longer.

  5

  Ready for bed, Retta put an end to the conversation. “That’s enough for me today. I’m going to grab my things and go to bed.” Before anyone could protest, she popped back to her other motel room. It looked untouched and Retta was grateful for it. Grabbing her things and shoving them in her bag, she left her keycard in the door for housekeeping to find and materialized into the bedroom of the suite.

  Unfortunately, the guys had come back up as well and came barging in at what they thought was an intruder. Only to be surprised to find her standing, unamused, with bag in hand. A chorus of goodnights preceded them filing back out. Finally, alone at last, Retta stripped down to her underwear and went to brush her teeth, finding a h
air tie in her bag to secure her mass of hair first. Upon looking back up in the mirror, a form appeared, scaring the snot out of her.

  “Fuck, cookie monster! Wear a bell.” Hand to her chest, Retta grumbled at Ace.

  “I apologize for intruding. I wanted to make sure you were alright. Your distance woke me up.” His voice was sleep roughened, sending delightful chills down her spine.

  No, bad bond. Knock it off, fucker.

  Not bothering to argue, Retta conceded, again, that he’d need to be in close proximity to her. It was wishful thinking that he’d be able to stay in the other room. “You can bunk in here with me. Do you need to go get anything?” Looking at him in his snug black t-shirt and black jeans to make her point, Retta received a surprise.

  “No, I’m fine. I can make do.” Not wasting any time, he stripped his shirt off, revealing more black, sweeping tattoos. The man was gorgeous and cut in all the right places. Even his scars didn’t detract from his attractiveness. When he shucked his pants, she expected underwear. Nope, no underwear. The only thing he wore was a curving, silver series of piercings through his dick.

  In shock, Retta could only stare at the impressive equipment and hardware while he toed his boots off.

  “If you keep staring, it’s going to think you’re interested. Have you not seen a dick before?”

  Retta bristled at his comment; he couldn’t know just how well she’d been acquainted with the organ.

  Either ignoring her reaction or plain not giving a shit, Ace wiggled the pant legs off his feet and strode nude into the bathroom where he proceeded to use her toothbrush. Mouth hanging agape at his audacity, he pushed her straight over the edge as he moved to the toilet to take a piss.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? There’s a bathroom out there.” Pissed, Retta gestured back out to the living area of the suite.

  Acting like she didn’t just yell at him, Ace finished up and washed his hands. “You’re the one standing in your underwear holding a conversation. How was I to know it wasn’t acceptable?”

  Glancing down, Retta realized she only had a bra and panties on. And they were the serviceable ones, too. Who cares what they look like? Rubbing the heel of a hand on her forehead, she gave up. Removing her bra, she moved to her bag, grabbed a tank top to pull over her head, and climbed under the covers of the bed.

  Ace stood in the frame of the doorway to the bathroom, uncertainty written across his features. “Should I go?”

  With a sigh, Retta flipped the corner of the covers back to pat the space next to her. Wasting no time, Ace flicked the light off and hopped in, not hesitating to pull her back flush to his front from her head to her toes. Stiffening for a moment, she soon relaxed back into him, enjoying his heat and protective embrace. It was probably the bond but at least she knew with it active, neither could actively hurt the other.

  WAKING UP, Retta discovered they’d shifted during the night until she was draped across Ace’s chest with a leg thrown over his waist. She also discovered that in that position, his morning glory was snuggling quite happily with her pink petunia.

  Muttering about men and morning wood, Retta failed to notice Ace was awake. Until his chest started heaving from the strain of keeping quiet.

  Face flaming, Retta dumped herself off the side of the bed, taking the bedclothes with her and exposing Ace’s impressively swollen member. Momentarily stunned at it being erect and the shinies in it, she forgot it was attached to a male that might want to act on her intrigue.

  “Morning, cupcake.” Her eyes reaching his, she forgot about her embarrassment to be annoyed.

  “Cupcake? Have you seen me?” Gesturing with a hand up and down in front of her to showcase herself wasn’t her brightest idea. It wasn’t her fault. She’d had no coffee and woke up to the sexy ass, wood sporting, cookie monster in her bed. She couldn’t be expected to adult properly in this situation.

  A sly grin overtook Ace’s face as he replied, “Sure have, cupcake. Your energy tastes so sweet I can’t wait to get my face between those sexy thighs of yours.”

  “Are you still high? I thought you’d process all that by now.” With a scowl, she stomped off to the bathroom to relieve her full bladder, the reason she was awake in the first place, and brush her teeth, since she was sure she had morning breath and there was decidedly nothing confectionary about it.

  Mid tooth scrub, he came in. And he was…

  “Oh, fucking hell no!” she mumbled around the minty foam coming out of her mouth, making a mess of the sink and mirror. Which still wasn’t as bad as witnessing the spurting starts and stops of the soul-eater trying to empty himself through his erection. Unashamedly empyting it. In front of her.

  Furious and feeling the strain because of it, Retta went directly to her suitcase to throw on some black jeans and her favorite swoopy, cobalt top. Slipping her feet into socks and sturdy boots, she made a beeline for Jack’s room. Fuck fang face, he’d probably try to eat her again, and the other one was probably still covered in glitter.

  Not bothering to knock, Retta put her hand up to the scanner. True to Kingston’s words, it turned green and clicked the door open, admitting her to Jack’s suite. Not finding him up and about yet, she braved his bedroom with a soft knock. A muffled invitation had her nudging the door open and peeking her head around it. Jack was sitting up in bed, rubbing his hands over his face, exhaustion still plain to see.

  Concerned, Retta stepped into the room. Upon getting closer, Jack actually appeared grayish.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Her panicked question poured out of her before she could school her reaction.

  Surprised, Jack took in her anxiousness before replying. “Just low on energy, Mistress. I haven’t had a chance to feed other than when I helped you, and I expended a lot of what I had yesterday.” Matter of fact and probably not meaning to guilt trip her, but Retta felt badly anyhow.

  “Here, I was coming for help draining it anyway.” Holding her arm out, she waited for Jack to take her hand. After several moments contemplating it, he latched onto her hand, pulling her unexpectedly off her feet to tumble into his lap.

  A sigh of contentment escaped him before she could get too upset. He’d plastered every piece of bare skin he could against her, wrapping her up boa constrictor style. Her next question she was hesitant to ask.

  “How do you usually feed? You said you didn’t have time yesterday.”

  “I can feed several ways, but usually latent emotion is the easiest to digest, for lack of a better word, and fill up on. I morph into part of the stage in the dancing hall and absorb what’s aiming for the girls. It’s faster and less annoying than sitting in the casino to do it.”

  At her questioning glance, he ducked his head into her neck, hiding his face. “The other is directly from you or one of the guys since we’ll have bonds and the third… Well, the third is disturbing.” Voice dropping into a whisper in shame, his breath feathered against her skin, and he startled her with his confession. “I eat them. The bodies leftover from King and Ace. I dematerialize and reform over them, taking them into myself.”

  Retta relaxed back against his chest, trying to give him sympathy without pity, and definitely without any hint of disgust. She’d seen, and done, worse. There was nothing for him to be ashamed of.

  “Oh, phew,” she replied. “I thought for a minute you unhinged your jaw like a snake and swallowed them whole, then had the weird bloat-thing until they digested. Or that you had to cut them up into smaller pieces to make them fit. Body clean-up. I can handle that. Actually, you can handle that.” They both cracked up at her inappropriate joke. “Okay, serious-er time. I need to try to hunt down your Priest. One, I need to rule him out. And two, I should make sure he’s not been forcibly detained. My ‘something’s not right’ meter is pinging, and it’s never steered me wrong yet.”

  Jack went over the last whereabouts of their elusive member and the places he might frequent. He let her up despite her protests that she could still give him
more. Giving up when he refused, she got up to follow him down to the underground garage.

  On their way down, Retta made a pit stop by her room to check on Ace. He was just coming out of the bedroom— dressed and surprised to see her.

  “I didn’t think you’d be coming back.” Hurt peeked out around his stilted words.

  Retta walked directly to him to wrap her arms around his middle. Ace didn’t hesitate to reciprocate. “Sorry, cookie monster. I’m used to being alone. Boundaries, we need boundaries. You all can’t think you’re gonna run all over me and I’m going to take it.” A grunt of agreeance is what she got, but she thought she’d nicely made her point. “Will you be alright for a few hours while I go with Jack?”

  Arms tightened around her, and Retta was almost positive she could feel panic echo through the bond. If she could feel that, she wondered if she could help. Concentrating, she pushed reassurance down the tether that linked them. Ace relaxed marginally, but it was enough to know she could leave him. For a short time anyway. Before she could wiggle loose, he’d dropped a kiss on her forehead and made her promise not to be gone too long.

  RETTA AND JACK made their way down to the garage without any more interruptions. She followed him until they stopped at a vehicle; of course, he got into a vintage, sleek, and silvery car. Retta hadn’t kept up on makes and models over the years unless it was something she wanted to drive and even then, her interest was sketchy at best. Other than knowing this one was old, mostly by the fact that the handles were the crank kind, all it had to identify it was a symbol; a cat in midjump. At least Jack no longer looked as if he were ready to keel over. She grabbed his neck in the car regardless, pushing more energy into him. His breath let out on a sigh as he relaxed, the brackets on either side of his mouth and eyes and the creases on his forehead smoothing out.

  “Told ya, you needed more. Next time speak up.” Pulling back, Retta settled into the comfortable, leather-covered seat, waiting on Jack to pull out of the space and take them around to Priest’s haunts.