Leaving Eden

by Kelly A Walker et al.

  “Not for long,” the asshole sneered.

  Ody turned slightly, fingering one of the chimes as he watched them out of the corner of his eye.

  “If you insist on trolling here, perhaps we can come up with a trade.” The man leaned down, his pointed nose smelling her neck as his other hand slid around her waist.

  That’s enough of that.

  “There you are, sunshine,” Ody said, stepping up beside them, deliberately placing himself in between the two.

  Saltos stumbled back a step, anger flashing in his oil-slick eyes. He assessed Ody, taking another step as he realized he was sorely outmanned.

  Ody was not a small guy. At six-foot-two, he had kept up with his strenuous military exercises. The muscles he had built over the years came in handy in this moment as he allowed them to casually flex, making his black T-shirt stretch. Then there were the scars. Scars scattered across his forearms, highlighting his past in a constellation of pain. Normally, Ody was a little self-conscious about them. Today, however, they were just another asset in his artillery.

  The woman turned then, and their eyes locked.

  Her eyes were green. Not just any green, though. They were the green of emeralds. The green of the open fields of his homeland. The green of his favorite book cover that had become tattered from reading it so frequently.

  She was the most magnificent creature he had ever seen.

  She smiled broadly, leaning into him and wrapping her arm around his waist. “Yep, here I am.” She looked like innocence made flesh, with her bright smile and sunshine hair. Ody knew better. It was there, deep within those green eyes. The same glint he found in his own gaze when staring in a mirror.

  The glimmer of survival. This woman knew pain, blood and tears. She had stories, this one, and he wanted to unravel her; to devour the pages of her book piece by piece.

  “Who’s your friend?” Ody asked, letting his voice deepen. The result was a rumbling in his chest that sounded like the hooves of war horses.

  The slimeball must have sensed how close he was to death, because he ran his long, skinny fingers through his hair, slicking back the greasy length, and sneered down at the woman tucked under Ody’s arm. “Consider this your last warning.” Then he turned, pushing his way through the crowd.

  The woman relaxed visibly before seeming to notice she was hugging a complete stranger. She dropped her arm, looking up at him abashed.

  “Um, hello,” she said, glancing at him from beneath her thick, dark lashes.

  “Hello. You okay?” Ody asked, assessing her face for any signs of damage.

  She blushed at his stare, nodding and brushing back her hair. After a moment, she seemed to gather herself, taking a visible breath. Perhaps that breath was only visible because Ody was staring so intently...

  He watched as she placed a shield between them, a pretty mask covering the lingering unsettled emotions he had felt only moments before.

  She looked at him fully then, her eyes no longer that of a startled girl. This was the calculated gaze of a woman who knew exactly how she affected a man.

  “I’ve never seen you here before. New in town?” she purred.

  Ody couldn’t speak. He coughed a little, nodding his head in acknowledgement before turning towards a display of jam to their right, attempting to gather himself. Ody had been around plenty of beautiful women in his day, and none of them had impacted him in such a way.

  “I recommend the honey jam. It’s exquisite,” her silky voice crashed into him, as forceful as the sea. She leaned forward, her breast brushing his arm as she grabbed the honey jam in front of him. Biting the inside of his cheek, Ody turned towards her, watching as her hand slid stealthily into her purse. Ody had a keen eye, though, and noticed his phone slip into her bag.

  Wicked girl. Instead of reprimanding her, Ody turned more fully to face her. She was… fascinating.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, leaning back against the table.

  His deep voice seemed almost to startle her as much as her voice had startled him.

  She swallowed, handing over her cash to the person attending the stand. “I’m Amy,” smiling, she held her hand out to him, seeming to compose herself.

  Little liar.

  Ody couldn’t help but smirk, reaching for her hand. His large palm practically swallowed hers, his calloused fingers seeming so rough against her smooth, flawless skin.

  “Odysseus,” he said, pulling her slightly closer. He didn’t mean to, really. It was almost instinctual. Her pretty eyes widened a little before she seemed to gather her thoughts.

  She leaned into him, her other hand running up the sleeve of his black t-shirt. “Odysseus. What a pleasure. Walk with me, Ody?”

  Ody nodded, another layer of shock settling on him. No one, apart from his brothers and his mother, called him that. The mysterious woman linked arms with him, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. Frowning, Ody tried to get his head in the game. This woman had stolen his mother’s soul, for fuck’s sake. She was his mark. She was probably after his wallet as they walked--if she hadn’t already nabbed it.

  Logically, he knew she was trouble.

  However, logic wasn’t what made him walk with her, discussing the different stands, feeling the heat from her body soak into his skin as if she were the sun and he had been stuck all too long in darkness. He debated asking her about the man who had threatened her, but instincts told him she would clam up tighter than a captured enemy spy.

  His phone buzzed in her purse. Ody raised a brow at her. “I think someone is calling you, darlin.”

  The woman blushed slightly. Interesting. She seemed too experienced for such an amateur tell. Waving a hand dismissively, she stopped at a display of scarves. “I’ll call them back. It’s rude to be on your phone while in the presence of company.” Again with the lashes. She ran her fingers along the scarves, pulling up a green and gold one to her face, looking at him all the while.

  Fuck, she was stunning.

  “What’s your Affinity?” he asked.

  The woman froze. It was considered bad manners to ask such a thing, but Ody was never one to care about posturing. He had never seen anything like her before. She moved with the grace of something winged, and he wondered if that was why he felt such a deep connection to her.

  She swallowed, bringing Ody’s eyes to the column of her throat. “Peacock. You?”

  Peacock? He believed that as much as the “Amy” nonsense.

  “Griffin,” he replied, surprised at his honest response. She must have been as well, because she stopped her perusal of the pretty scarves.

  “Truly? I’ve never met a Griffin before.”

  Ody shrugged, grabbing the scarf she had been handling and purchasing it from the merchant.

  He gently wrapped the scarf around her shoulders, his fingers sliding along her skin.

  “Are...are there a lot of Griffins in this area?” Was that fear in her voice? His gaze went to hers, concerned. He didn’t want her to fear him. Did he?

  “Some,” he replied, leaving his hands on her shoulders a moment longer than was necessary.

  They stared at one another, their gazes trying to unravel the secrets within. She was nothing like anyone he had ever met. Sweet and sinister. Light and dark. Her entire being was a juxtaposition, one he wanted to explore thoroughly.

  Clearing her throat, she stepped back, smiling down at the scarf. “Thank you, Ody. It’s beautiful.”

  So are you, he thought. Instead of speaking that treacherous thought, Ody merely nodded and offered his arm once more. He needed to get back on task. To focus. He would not let himself forget that this woman had his mother’s soul. She was a conman. A thief.

  And her legs were…

  No. Stop it. Ody shook himself. His instincts perked up, and he lifted his gaze to the crowd. Ramé stood at a stand a few yards ahead, leaning against a display of jewelry and chuckling to a pretty girl.

  He felt the woman beside him tense
. “Let’s go back this way. I saw a hat that would look perfect with this dress,” she said, tugging on his arm in the opposite direction.

  Ody allowed her to pull him along, but not before he noticed his brother’s reaction. Ramé watched them, nostrils flared, a look in his eye that he had seen on many occasions.

  Hunger. Lust.

  She knew Ramé from the night before; had seen him on the boat. That must be why she was panicking. She didn’t realize Ody had been there as well.

  Ody put a hand on her back, instinctively wanting to comfort her as well as protect her. It might be a bit patronizing, but he had been brought up to cherish and protect women. Even thieving women.

  He could feel Ramé behind them now, following them through the crowd.

  How was this going to end, exactly? Maybe he should just ask her for the ruby back. Explain what it was. Odysseus, master tactician, had no plan. He felt like a cub out in the wilderness with no clue on where to go. How had such a small woman caused such an upheaval within him?

  Taking a deep breath, Ody allowed her scent to calm him. Nothing mattered but the ruby. He couldn’t risk telling her about its importance. Who knew what she would do with that information. No, the plan remained the same. Extract the woman, get the ruby.

  “Ody?”

  Startled out of his own thoughts, he looked down at her, lifting a brow. “Yes, sunshine?” Sunshine again? Granted, it fit, but they weren’t exactly on nickname terms.

  The smile she gave him lit up her entire face. A wicked gleam appeared in her eyes, and she stepped back towards an alleyway off the side of the marketplace, pulling him with her.

  Ody felt himself harden as she tugged him deeper into the shadows, her grip on his hand tightening as she molded herself to his front. He wanted to apologize for his dick, but there wasn’t a very polite way of doing that. A lady wasn’t someone you spoke to about erections.

  “Kiss me, Odysseus,” she whispered, leaning back against the cool brick, her breasts jutting out slightly.

  Ody swallowed, nerves flaring. Fuck. He wasn’t a fucking virgin. Why was he acting like one?

  Stepping into her, Ody cupped her face, letting her heat warm him. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, his breath stuttering as her tongue flicked out to touch him.

  Before he could talk himself out of it, Odysseus brought his mouth to hers. She tasted exactly as she smelled, like the sun and the sea. Groaning, his hands cupped her jaw, his lips devouring hers. Her palms slid up his arms, and he suddenly wished there was no clothing between them. His tongue met hers, and all thoughts of propriety vanished. Ody gripped her thighs and lifted her off the ground, her legs wrapping around his waist. Pressing her into the wall, they worshipped each other with their mouths, as her hands scratched over his scalp. He wished he had longer hair for her to grip, to pull on as their passions mounted. He ground himself into her, feeling his cock thickening even further as she whimpered.

  Then she bit him. Hard. Her teeth jerked against his lip, and he cursed at the pain, rearing back. He reached up and touched it, shocked at the blood smeared across his hand. Looking back towards her, he was surprised to see nothing but brick in front of him. He glanced down the alley just in time to see the flip of her dress rounding a corner.

  “Fuck!” he barked, reaching into his pocket for the phone that wasn’t there.

  Groaning, Ody took off after her. His brothers would never let him live this down. The great Odysseus, war strategist and planner of plans, brought down by a kiss and a sundress.

  5

  AVA

  What the fuck was that?

  Ava cursed at herself as she kicked off the flats, letting her bare feet pick up the speed she needed to escape. How could she have been so stupid? She had known the minute she locked eyes with that man that he was trouble. She recognized him from the marketplace, of course, but she couldn’t resist the temptation. Her stupid Wyvern gold-lust had flared, and she just had to touch him, had to put her hands on that golden skin for just a moment.

  She hadn’t expected him to be so sweet.

  Walking through the marketplace, she had forgotten completely about her life and her struggles. The hole she was constantly trying to fill with gold and jewels seemed to become less deep as she held onto the golden masterpiece by her side, as if he were the treasure she had truly been seeking. She told herself she was only distracting him until she could figure out an escape, but she knew better. She had enjoyed being with him.

  And that kiss...

  Ava licked her lips, the taste of his blood like the sweetest of wines on her tongue. She swung herself up on a fire-escape, climbing the wobbly ladder as fast as she could in her dress before slipping through the first open window she could find. The apartments here were empty and were a frequent crash spot for the local homeless.

  Sprinting through the room, she was relieved that no one was around. She paused, allowing herself a moment to catch her breath.

  How close was he? Did he see her come in here? What would he do if he caught her?

  Closing her eyes, Ava thought back on the man she had met. His golden skin had been marked with scars. Nothing too noticeable unless you were obsessing over his skin like some love-struck teenage weirdo. Those scars combined with the haunted look in his eyes told her two things.

  One, he wasn’t someone she wanted to fuck with. If he was searching for the woman who stole from him, she really didn’t want him figuring out it was her.

  Two, they were kindred spirits. His pain matched hers in a way she couldn’t put into words. They were bonded in their pain.

  Sighing, Ava slid down the wall until she was sitting. She thought about the way that pain had faded as they talked; how his body had felt pressed up against hers.

  Ava frowned as she felt the treasure-tug, as she liked to call it, pulling at her. This way… it purred. Ava knelt, slowly moving towards the windowsill and peeking out.

  Her three golden boys stood beneath the window in the alleyway below. Ava quickly ducked, her heart racing. Stupid Affinity. People weren’t treasure. These were headhunters, and she was their prey.

  “What were you thinking?” one of the golden men roared.

  “I don’t know,” Odysseus replied softly.

  Ava chewed her lip. She should run before they catch wind of her. But desire froze her in place. She wanted Ody, not just carnally. Her inner treasure siren was roaring, practically begging her to throw herself out of the window after him. She curled her hands into fists, breathing deeply.

  “Calm down, Midas. Honestly, I’m just relieved to know Ody’s dick still works,” a honey voice carried up to her. She knew that voice. He was the one she had seen on the boat.

  “Fuck you, man,” Ody barked, and she could hear the shuffle of their feet, as if they were scuffling.

  “Enough!” the third man shouted. This must be the mysterious Midas. “Get it together, for fuck’s sake! We need to find her. Fast. Dolor and Mattheus are meeting us tomorrow for the trade. It’s the only chance we’ve got.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she’ll turn up,” honey voice said. She really needed to find out his name.

  “Really, Ramé? Do you truly think she’s just gonna show back up at the market? That was our best shot of taking her,” Midas said, frustration lacing his words.

  “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what happened. It’s not...I don’t...Fuck.”

  Ava almost felt sorry for Odysseus as she listened to him. She was sure he wasn’t the type to deviate from a plan. Maybe he had been just as affected by her as she was of him.

  Someone sighed. “Look, Ody, I get it. Shit happens. Now we have to figure out how to fix it,” Midas grumbled.

  “She must have a place down by the docks. She smells like salt-water. Maybe if we go down there we can pick up her scent.” Ody’s voice was firm, more in control now.

  “Not a bad plan,” Midas said.

  “She lives like a pirate, so surely the local crew must know wher
e she stays. We can go after the mark and interrogate her once we have her. Two for one,” Ody said. They continued brainstorming, the two of them going back and forth about this mystery mark and where they could find her.

  Where was the honey voiced one? Ramé, they said his name was?

  “Well, hello again.”

  Ah, there he was.

  6

  MIDAS

  Midas stared up at the fire-escape where Ramé sat on the windowsill like someone from a romance novel. He spoke over the window’s ledge to the woman who started all of this mess. They had tracked her scent to the alley, using their hand signals and old military gestures to discuss the best way at securing her before she could escape. But before they could come up with a solid plan, Ramé had acted.

  Impulsive bastard...

  Shaking his head, Midas and Ody swung themselves up the ladder, hurrying when they heard Ramé curse as he crawled into the open window.

  They quickly followed after him, and Midas got his first up close view of the thief.

  She was… everything.

  Her skin was flushed, her blonde hair ruffled as she fought against Ramé’s hold. He held her back to his chest, arms crossed over her stomach, her breasts pushed up deliciously from the struggle.

  At first glance, she looked almost innocent, with her sundress and golden curls. But Midas knew better. Her fingers were curled into wanna-be talons, her feet lashing out as she tried to gain purchase on Ramé’s much larger body.

  “Calm down, wildcat. We just want to talk to you!” Ramé barked, struggling to hold her.

  Ody stepped closer, his eyes narrowed. Anger and lust pulsed around him, his aura affecting Midas’ own. Midas could read auras better than anyone he had ever met. It allowed him to be the peacekeeper among the brothers, as well as scout out who could be trusted in their business arrangements.

  It also gave him the ability to clearly see Affinities.

  “Holy fuck,” he whispered. Ramé and Ody looked at him, brows furrowed. “You’re a Wyvern.”