Zia… Atlanta Downtown High Rise Building

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The voice that called out from a distance was vaguely familiar… and feminine.

“Zia Carter. Finally, we get to attend to unfinished business.”

Zia turned around to see the woman who knew most of her darkest secrets and personal demons—her therapist.

“It was a therapy appointment. Not a court summons,” Zia lobbed across the span of concrete pavement toward the other woman.

“Ah, interesting choice of words—court summons.”

Dr. Galiena Rosario allowed her words to coast on the air without a direction or person of contact. She made a grand effort to place each foot in front of the other as if performing choreography. The therapist made such a production of her walk that Zia found it difficult to tear her eyes away in anticipation of the doctor’s next movement as the woman stepped toward the edge of her platform. Jeremy moved toward the loading dock of the building where she stood.

Dr. Rosario looked down on the man below and tossed him the barest shade of a grin. Apparently, she took missing a therapy appointment to heart.

Bypassing the long walk over to where the stairs were located in a shortcut of where she stood, some of the men helped Dr. Rosario down from the high loading dock platform.

When a whiff of air blew the front of her dress up to show an immodest amount of thong bikini panties, the doctor was unfazed. Who was this woman? The conservative therapist she’d been to would have at least tried to keep her dress from blowing around. Everything about this woman was different—skewed in a way that didn’t sit well with Zia.

Unlike her usual professional, controlled demeanor, and severe business attire, today, Dr. Rosario wore a deep burgundy form-fitting sheath dress with high slits on each thigh. Cut above the knee, a liberal amount of her shapely upper thighs were exposed as she posed in an arrogant confidence.

Her brunette hair was free from the normal confines of a chignon or top knot. Thick and shiny, it hung loosely in a medium-long contemporary style of relaxed waves and curls that fell just below the shoulders.

Zia always thought of her as a handsome woman. Pretty features traditionally found in the Latina arsenal of beauty were assembled on a heart-shaped feminine face in symmetrical aesthetics. Her makeup was immaculate.

Noise from the industrial sized machines that supplied power, air and heat, and other necessities to the building died down as if in homage to the woman’s presence. The loss of humming in the background was enough to signal the engine of another car approaching. Everyone waited. The last vehicle from the caravan pulled up and parked.

The therapist gave the car a sliver of her attention as more of the faces from the cookout poured out of the automobile. Once satisfied that they were expected, her full attention returned to focus on Greg’s vehicle. Zia looked in time to see that only Matt could be seen in the car. Wren wasn’t in sight. A little sigh of relief escaped.

Every step the therapist took looked like the performance of a great entertainer. Smooth, graceful, and hypnotic, Dr. Rosario’s long, shapely legs carried her to within easy shouting distance of where they stood.

Zia had no doubt this was a show of force to weaken her resolve to do anything but comply. Greg remained stoic as he stood a respectable distance away from her. They’d cleared enough space to be a few feet from the passenger’s side of the Dragofin Clan SUV, and far enough away to keep Wren hidden in the back seat.

Greg and Zia stood their ground as her therapist continued to make a show of approaching in slow, measured steps. That, and the fact that the heels she wore were absurdly high.

The backdrop of the looming high-rise tower began to block out some of the waning rays of the late afternoon sun. If she didn’t know any better Zia would swear this was an over-the-top scene from some TV drama.

The atmosphere held an air of suspense and mystery. She half expected that at any second ninjas or more aliens of the extra-terrestrial kind might jump out in another ambush.

Zia’s breaths struggled through the accumulated condensation in the insides of her paper mask. Greg had urged them to continue to wear them. The masks were their last ones from the cookout throw down match. With sound reason, he didn’t want to chance another attempt at a dusting when they arrived at their destination.

The therapist came closer as the others moved aside like a parting sea to let her through. This was a completely different woman from the kind and patient one she’d met with back in Texas.

“What’s with the masks? You have allergies?” The woman let a little giggle escape as she made a face at their precautionary step. She waved a hand of dismissal. “As you like—for now.”

This Dr. Rosario’s current presentation was anything but tame and subtle as every aspect screamed passion, sexuality, and powerful control. The woman oozed sexual prowess and badassery like a weapons master.

Zia’s mind rejected the kinship recognized in the sexual energy the doctor exuded. The way the others around them reacted to the doctor’s antics showcased the lusty thirst Zia was all too familiar with all her life.

Her therapist smiled as she looked at the all-male team who’d escorted them here. She took time to dole out individual attention to each with the intensity of a beaming sun. They drank up her tidbits of faked affection tossed their way. Like the professional she was, Dr. Rosario made sure to capture each in her gaze until she stopped to look at Jeremy.

The shudder of disgust that slithered across Zia’s senses awakened a new perspective. She’d done this very same thing too many times to count.

How many adoring male egos had she rewarded with a similar smile and returned gaze? How many times had a simple glance turned grown men into simpering idiots ready to do her bidding? They’d been primed and ready to produce, if she’d but hinted at asking.

Zia couldn’t begin to count the times men had offered unsolicited gifts from money all the way up to housing, lifestyle sponsorships, and “no strings attached” business grants to help her expand her bakery business. A small reprieve was that she’d never taken any of them up on their offers, but it was still enlightening to see from this side of the fence. If this was how other women viewed her, no wonder they couldn’t stomach to be around Zia.

From the natural assets of large, alluring eyes to the upturned corners of a pair of pouty lips that any lip filler addict would kill for, the doctor had the requisite beauty to succeed in this world. With her hair down and framed around her face in a flattering way, Dr. Rosario looked more the Seductress Zia had been accused of than the mere Psychiatrist she’d portrayed.

Although not exceedingly striking, the woman’s face was attractive. It was her spectacular body that sparked and hummed with sexual magnetism. Even the blind and damn-near-dead would be caught in the alluring spell Dr. Rosario wove.

The therapist had come to stand before them with a respectable amount of space between. She took her time to examine Zia. A nonchalant expression was the only indicator of Zia’s effect on her until she spoke. “My, my, Zia, you look more… uneventful.”

That was uncalled for.

Zia wouldn’t dignify the dig with a response. It was clear the woman before her now was not the same person she thought she knew. Still, it was taking time to come to grip with this side of Dr. Rosario.

Zia got an up-close experience of the seduction energy in progress. She sent a silent thank you to the Triplets for helping her understand what it was and how this was a bastardization of how it should be used.

In that dress, her therapist’s body was the beauty standard of slim and athletic with the right amount of curves. The attributes that gave away her heritage of the Puerto Rican Latina Zia had trusted without question were her year-round sun-kissed hue and a tiny waist in proportion to an ample behind that was naturally plump and perfectly round.

Zia pushed down both the urge to give into jealousy at how the woman’s presence might capture Greg’s affections; and how much smaller and sexy she was over Zia.

Game recognized game.

This woman made her realize she was in the kiddie pool while this was the medal swim at the Olympics.

With her small size, sexy clothing and expert command of the area, Dr. Rosario held the air in suspense at her every move. Zia may as well give up the thought of any comparison or competition.

Standing here in her jeans and regular a top, dressed for the cookout, Zia was a tarnished old trinket in the background of the other woman’s Hope Diamond. A wave of depression and self-loathing crashed down heavy on her head. Compared to the doctor Zia looked like a dime store darling.

It sickened Zia that she still felt compelled to compare and compete when the ugly side of beauty stared her down in its full exposure.

“No, my love, none of that. You’re not like her—not like this.”

Zia wouldn’t try to hide her real thoughts and feelings from her mate. Without the need to sugar coat or make light of where her thoughts were, Zia told the truth. “She has everyone eating out of her hands. I worry that she’ll get to you too.”

“I’m your Gryphon. Remember, I’m unswayed by sexual energy. She doesn’t effect me. My heart is with you—always.”

Zia held onto that love note from her mate. She took a beat to slough off that part that lurked in her shadows to regain her best self. Call it what it was—more of her ridiculous thoughts that lead to petty behavior—but Greg knew her. He’d done what was needed to snatch Zia back from the brink of a descent into old habits that would plunge her into the dark side of her being.

Determined to beat her inner demons, Zia focused on sending Greg love and gratitude for being here with her.

Once again he ministered to her soul.

“Thank you. I feel your love, dear heart of mine. Together—always,” was his quick mental reply. “As for this female, what you’re sensing is an exaggerated expression of the Seductress that I warned you about in our earlier conversations. This is what happens when the gift goes unchecked or untrained. She has great magical and sexual powers. You have more, and it’s pure and supported. Do not fear her. I will do everything in my authority and ability to make sure we succeed in putting an end to her tyranny.”

She swallowed the desire to smile and paid attention to taking in their surroundings. Successful in her ability to refrain from old patterns of comparison with other women, Zia sent up a last little prayer that Dr. Rosario wasn’t the one behind Jeremy’s actions. This woman had been the one full-blooded Latina who’d accepted her as one of her own. She’d been easy to confide in—to feel connected to as a person.

Zia had liked and trusted Dr. Rosario. How was her ability to discern darkness within people so off? Quinn was right about her.

Her hopes were dashed as the woman’s face slid into another easily enchanting smile. The expression was foreign to Zia’s recollection of the woman but familiar in how she’d manipulated men.

There it was. Zia had been a manipulator and Seductress just as Quinn had accused her of from the start. The disgust wasn’t all directed at the doctor. It was a transference onto the therapist of what she was. She was a manipulative wench of the highest order.

This time Zia looked at the scene playing out with fresh eyes.

Gone was the straight-laced doctor with the ability to get her to talk, to this Seductress who oozed of seduction and cunning. Dr. Rosario’s persona had flipped to a woman with ulterior motives and the audacity to try to pull them off.

“Good job, you finally got it right this time,” Dr. Rosario said to Jeremy. To Greg, she asked, “Who are you?”

Greg said nothing.

She waved a hand at him. Greg continued to stare at her unfazed.

“Interesting. I don’t get anything. No worries.” To Zia, she said, “Time is wasting. Follow me.”

Disappointment and betrayal simmered as Zia struggled to come to grips with the knowledge that her therapist was the one behind all this pain and evil.

The therapist turned femme fatale turned and walked back to the building with her small party in tow. Jeremy, a small group of people who had the look of Egolars with their ambiguous presentation, and another group of men Zia was certain to be demon possessed followed her in obvious submission. Like dutiful soldiers, they filed in and positioned themselves to allow her to stand closest to the elevator entrance.

She leveled a hateful stare at Zia. “Well, get a move on. I don’t plan to stand out here forever.”

Greg stepped in front of Zia and walked to entered the metal box. Zia willed herself to look straight ahead as they entered a freight elevator.

Dr. Rosario looked at him as Greg came close, about to enter. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He remained still and quiet, blocking the elevator entrance and Zia’s way to get in.

Jeremy’s voice rang clear in the enclosed space as he attempted to speak in a hushed manner. “This is the one I told you about. He’s working for The Group.”

Dr. Rosario’s eyes flashed with something akin to fearful anger and resignation as she reconsidered Greg’s presence.

“So, they are checking up on me. I suppose I should have expected as much. Very well.” She offered a hand to Greg. “Considering your presence, it would appear we’re not too different. We both have duties to perform. Please, call me Galiena.”

Zia didn’t like how the woman’s voice changed to add a flirtatious lilt at the end.

That bitch.

Zia made a new rule. This woman didn’t deserve the respect of being called Doctor anything. From here on she would be Bitch, and Galiena if she were lucky.

Greg took his time as he unfastened the snap on his “riding gloves.” In his usual, smooth and effortless manner, he extended his hand, took a firm but gentle grasp of Galiena’s extended hand and shook it—one time.

The air grew thick with living electricity.

Zia’s hands pressed against her stinging cheeks to offer some relief. Her fingers were met with the mask Greg insisted they keep on. She didn’t dare remove it. Galiena and Greg continued to hold their handshake as if in stasis as the atmosphere around them grew tumultuous.

The longer the two stared down the other, the atmosphere of the space around them became painful. A simple brush of air on skin became prickly and slid toward unbearable as if millions of needles pricked at the same time.

Zia couldn’t hold her thoughts any longer and shot a neural link to her mate. “Greg, what are you doing? You said it was against the rules to knowingly touch humans.”

“She’s not completely human, now is she? As a Guardian Warrior, I can do what is needed to protect and restore order. She thinks by touching me, she can use her sorcery to enslave my mind. Until we know more, do not come into physical contact with her.”

“Okay, I won’t. What’s happening? Why does the air hurt?”

“She’s trying to overpower me.”

“No. Stop it. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Zia, my love, I’m fine. Now, watch and try not to react. This is going to be interesting to see her response.”

Zia found it hard to continue to breathe in a regular rhythm as her mate held hands with the other woman. Galiena smiled and looked up at the golden giant of a man. He continued to hold her hand while remaining still as the Sphinx he was. Slowly, the woman’s face morphed into terrified agony as Greg held her hand in his.

Galiena snatched her hand back as if she’d touched a hot poker. “What in the hell are you?”

Amber-colored eyes grew larger as she looked at him with a new determined inspection. Per his usual, Greg remained quiet.

“Jeremy, who is he? Does he speak?” Galiena rubbed her hand and shook it as if fire ants were on the attack.

“Only in short sentences, usually with no’s as his answer.” Jeremy wheezed as he scratched at his skin. “I told you I didn’t think he was all the way human. He’s a big boy. Tread carefully.”

Zia didn’t miss the little bit of defiance in his tone. His reward for the information was a hard eye roll and frown from Galiena.

“What is this? You’re doing too much. Quit it.” Galiena turned back to look at the man. “Jeremy, answer my questions without the added commentary. Geez, why is it so hard for you to answer a simple question? I don’t need your extraness now—not today.” She rebuked Jeremy and stepped aside to allow Greg passage into the grungy freight elevator.

Zia followed close behind and did her best to hide the sheer thrill of pride in how well her mate handled this woman. It was apparent Galiena was in both awe and lust with her mate too. The woman stole many glances his way as the party rode in guarded silence

When they were almost to the top floor, her stomach protested. The gurgle was loud enough for the entire elevator to know what that meant.

Galiena looked back at her, smirked, and gave a little laugh. “Yes, you should be shaken to your core with what awaits you.” She focused on Zia’s abdomen and then back up to her. “Don’t worry. I have Wet Wipes.”

Zia clamped down hard on the string of curses that made a full-court press against her lips to respond. This bitch knew she needed a toilet and was toying with her.

When they got off the elevator and entered the condo, Zia took a quick glance at the open foyer. From what she could see the open concept apartment was palatial and immaculate. There seemed to be others farther inside the apartment.

“What’s wrong, Zia, have you never seen class and sophisticated living up close?” Galiena smirked and walked off in a confident stride toward the other side of the area.

Once she was in the heart of the room, the woman flung another snide comment Zia’s way. “I hope you liked the fact that I sent your first love to bring you to me. It’s a bit nostalgic, but I always thought that would be a nice touch. You see, I decided to use the first person you loved to bring you to your destiny.”

Greg sent another neural message, “Zia, don’t let her bait you. Focus on seeing us back at the Lair. That’s all I want you to focus on.”

“Thank you, my mate. And, so you know, you are my first and only love.”

“Likewise and remember, we do this together. Now, quiet. Silence is an effective weapon. I’ve never been hurt by what I haven’t said.”

She took his advice, and like Greg, Zia remained silent.

“Come in. Don’t huddle up at the door.” Galiena glided into the large room and spread her arms. “You two,” she pointed to Greg and Zia, “take those pitiful masks off. A thin gardening mask isn’t going to prevent me from doing anything that I want. You look foolish and pathetic. Let’s get started. Zia, come to me.”

Greg removed his mask, and she followed. Trust in her mate amped up her confidence that all would work out.

“I’m not in the mood for repeating myself. Zia, come here.”

Zia didn’t move. If Galiena wanted her to do anything, she’d have to do way more than bark orders.

Amber eyes that shimmered with malice flashed as Galiena gave Zia more concentrated attention. “I don’t have time for your antics, you stupid fat cunt. Walk your ass over to me now.”

“No. Where are my parents and brother? I want to see them now!” Zia didn’t care that her voice trembled and rose to a yell by the time she finished.

“As you wish.” She looked at three of the larger men in her entourage. “Bring the presentation I’ve prepared to my room.”

Zia didn’t budge, instead focusing on seeing herself back at the Lair with Greg and everyone safe and sound. Galiena shook her head.

For the first time, Zia noticed that five more men waited in the apartment. Spacious as it was, having this many bodies in it began to shrink the room to make every movement more pronounced. The large bodyguards took up their fair share of the area. The five of them were large like Greg but not as tall.

Fear edged along Zia’s conscious periphery as it looked for a way to pounce to the front. She had to stay strong.

Thumps and muted sounds could be heard from down the hallway of the condo as the men disappeared through various doors. Galiena breezed by the others toward the hallway. She blocked the way until the men reemerged. Zia strained to see what they did behind the other woman.

Once satisfied with what she saw, Galiena turned back to the remaining people in the other room and announced, “Follow me. Zia, you first.”

“Wait,” Greg’s voice was deep and menacing with that one word. Galiena stopped to focus on him with new levels of lust displayed in her features. “She’s not free to go with you until I get verification from The Group.”

Again, fear skirted across the woman’s face. “Ah, he speaks and what a sexy voice, too. Don’t worry, darling, I’m going to make both of us look good. I’m delivering on my part of the deal I have with them. You let me do my job, and I promise there will be a more pleasant reward for you once I finish.”

That heifer had the nerve to wink and lick her lips at Zia’s man.

“No. You show her the parents, make sure they are healthy and return them to her. Then I take them all to The Group.”

Galiena’s smile this time was in disbelief. “I don’t think you understand. You might be big, gorgeous, and mysterious like I like them but this isn’t up for negotiation. We can work together, or you can die.” She nodded to one of the bigger men who’d already been inside.

Zia heard the unmistakable sound of a weapon being cocked to fire behind them. Her instincts took over.

“Okay, I’ll go. No one needs to die today. Galiena, please. Show me my family, then we can revisit this,” Zia motioned to the room making sure not to give preferential attention to Greg.

“Good. I guess you’re not quite dumb as a rock.” The woman considered Zia as if trying to figure out her angle. “Follow me.”

Greg went to stand before her once again.

“Not this time, He-Man. She comes with me alone.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Yes, she does.” Galiena’s voice held a note of finality to it.

“No. She. Doesn’t.”

Jeremy piped up. “Told you. He’s like a one track tune. This guy is stuck on no.”

“Jeremy, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to turn you into a senseless drug addict.”

Everyone in the room stopped as Galiena’s words sunk into the minds of the hearers. Greg refused to move from in front of Zia. He sent waves of love and assurance to her.

Like one of the orphans from Oliver Twist, she snatched up his offerings with the vigor of a starving thief. Galiena’s voice slithered into the room again.

“Fine. I see we have an impasse. You can come with us, but don’t try to interfere or I will kill you. Do you understand?”

Greg didn’t respond. Instead, he took a step forward and would have walked over Galiena if she hadn’t stepped back and turned in time to lead the way.

Yes, Zia loved how her man took control in the heat of battle.

The procession moved down the hallway to the end where double doors stood open. Zia could see snatches of waning sunlight peeking out from the entry as they began to fill the new room.

Expensive, vibrant colors and great views of the city bombarded them as the room opened up to receive the group.

A sense of impending doom tracked mud through Zia’s vision of a beautiful ending as more of the room came into view.

Her only hope was that what lay beyond these doors wasn’t another alien ambush in waiting.