Chapter Two
Marcus strode along the raised wooden sidewalk, his boots thumping loudly. The smell of salt water tainted the air. Seagulls wheeled over head. The urgency of his errand had lengthened his stride. His temper was on a short fuse. He had a hundred things he should be doing right now, would rather be doing. But they were in crisis mode. A terrifying creature had been released in Maat Tower. One creating havoc and mayhem. It would not be soothed. It could not be slayed.
Marcus assessed his surroundings with a critical eye. Taking in the high-end shops that wouldn’t look out of place on 5th Avenue or on the Champs Elysees. And the people, most of all the people interested Marcus. Several he could easily tell were Enforcer trained, not just because of the swords they wore strapped to their bodies but from the way they moved, sure, alert.
The intriguing thing about the Southern Sanctuary inhabitants was that potentially everyone here was deadly. Who knew what magic that little old lady exiting the Hair Salon was packing. And that young woman there, with the long strawberry blonde hair back in a plait. She looked harmless enough, but you could never tell with magic in the mix.
That both intrigued and frustrated him. Marcus liked information. He liked knowing everyone’s capabilities. Their strengths, their weaknesses. But magic? Until the first punch was thrown, who knew what your opponent was capable of.
Scoping out the shop numbers, he realised the address wasn’t far now. Lengthening his stride further, eager to complete this errand and get back to Atlanta.
Marcus was a Warrior to his core, he never let his guard down. His instincts alerting him that someone was coming up behind him fast. Turning, he stopped, noting a child, a girl, he was lousy with ages, he was guessing maybe four or five years old, was running fast across the covered walkway, dodging people, her chest heaving. Little legs encased in red and white striped leggings were pumping hard. Automatically Marcus checked to see if anyone or anything was chasing her, no.
It was just some kid, probably running after her mother or heading for freedom after slipping away from the babysitter. Not his concern, yet there was something about her, something that kept Marcus frozen in place and when she neared, it was instinctive for him to bend his knees slightly as she launched herself into his arms.
What the hell? Marcus could understand if the kid had dived into Drum’s arms, children loved the extra-wide Elite Warrior and his no nonsense death stare, but kids tended to avoid Marcus on the whole. There was something too aloof, too focused about him that made kids give him a wide berth.
Yet here he was, Marcus could feel the kid’s heart beating a mile a minute as she panted, trying to catch her breath. She was a cute little thing, with the striped leggings, matching red t-shirt and bright white sneakers with laces that had lollipops on them. Midnight black hair squirted out the sides of her head, thanks to two high pigtails. Her eyes were blue, no green, the damn things shimmered, seeming to change colour. And she had a wide cupid bow shaped mouth that was currently curved upwards in a smile as she contemplated him from only a few inches away.
“You okay? Is something wrong? Are you lost?” Marcus looked around for help, but there was no one near enough for him to ask if they knew who the child belonged to.
“Is that the best you could do?” The kid released a soft, impatient sigh, reaching out to straighten the collar of Marcus’s black shirt, before attempting to brush the hair out of his eyes. Issuing a small sound of frustration, she licked her hand and once more tried to smooth his hair back out of the way. “Did you even brush your hair this morning?”
Had he? What, not the point, what the hell was he doing standing here holding a lost child and letting her spread bodily fluids over him? He’d read over a dozen medical reports about how kids were like germ magnets. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to drop her, though he did grab hold of her hand to stop her grooming attempts. This kid needed a dog, stat. And seriously, how tiny was her hand in his, it looked doll like. “Kid, do you need help?”
The little girl positively beamed at him. Marcus had to work surprisingly hard at not smiling back at her. This close he could see three faint freckles dotting her tiny turned up nose. She really was gorgeous. He pitied her poor parents trying to keep up with this bundle of mischief.
“So grumpy.” The kid shook off his hold, stabbing a not so gentle finger into the groove at the side of Marcus’s mouth and pushing upwards. “Go on, you can do it.”
What else could Marcus do but laugh, the kid was fearless and determined.
“Such a pretty smile.” She patted his cheek lightly in encouragement, green-blue eyes sparkling. “You should do it more often.”
“Um, yeah, I suppose so.” Honestly, where was this kid’s parents? She could get into mega trouble running around on her lonesome, throwing herself at strangers.
The kid wriggled slightly, and even Marcus with his limited interactions with children understood that was the universal signal to put her down. He did so, gently, carefully. Straightening up, he looked around once more for anyone who looked like they might have misplaced a child, nope, no one. Damn, he didn’t need to get side-tracked but he probably should drop her off at the police station located back in the Town Square.
“How about you and I-” He glanced down, she had disappeared. Marcus looked around. Where the hell had she gone? The kid was a regular mini-Houdini.
The only possible option was if she’d slipped down a narrow opening between two nearby shops. That direction led towards the beach, no doubt the kid was heading back to her parents. Phew, one less thing he had to deal with. Funny kid though, sweet, cute as a button.
Shaking his head, Marcus turned and continued stalking along the covered walkway. Ignoring the decorative wrought iron columns and the large number of hanging pot plants, this time of year full of dripping greenery but little in the way of flowers.
Marcus’s attention was on matching the door numbers to the address he had in his hand. And… he was here… Here? Seriously? He’d find the dreaded monster slayer in this overpriced snooty boutique? He’d say Hadleigh was playing a joke on him but she’d lost her sense of humour about the same time her belly button had popped out.
Well, maybe it came down to magic. Who ever was in there must be deadly, capable of using major mojo to bring down their enemies. If Hadleigh referred to them as the monster slayer, then they had to have impressive skills. Which meant no doubt they were cool, arrogant and lethal. So Marcus would need to be respectful, polite, but play to their arrogance, present them with a challenge. Yeah, it was always nice to have a game plan.
* * *
Riya was scrutinising the nearest rack of clothes, scowling. The one and only mannequin in the large front picture window had been naked now for two days. It needed an outfit. The right outfit. One that would speak to the destiny of a passer-by and tempt them in. But she just wasn’t feeling it. Which was kind of disturbing, both as a business owner and as a Fate Weaver.
Riya couldn’t remember the last time the mannequin had gone unclothed for two hours, let alone two whole days. Something was going on, but what? Tapping her foot in time with the soft Latin music, she took a deep breath, she would just make a choice. It didn’t matter. She would just… damn it, she couldn’t do it. Unconsciously heaving a relieved sigh when the door chime sounded, announcing a customer. Good, she could put off trying to force the issue of dressing the mannequin.
Turning, the smile of welcome abruptly dropped from Riya’s face. She recognised the man who’d walked into her exclusive boutique immediately. Damn, she’d spent the last few years effectively avoiding him at all the family gatherings. And here he was, oh-so-casually sauntering into her boutique. Those assessing dark blue eyes scoping out the place in an instant. Judging. Probably mentally tallying profit margins and property values
“Hello, if it isn’t not-so-Charming.”
“You?.... Riya, right?” Marcus’s gaze swept upwards from her peep-toe green shoes, over toned bare legs, to the blue clinging wrap-around long sleeve dress edged with green that clung to her curves. All that waterfall black hair was held back in a fancy knot, secured in place by two gleaming green chopsticks. Beneath the blunt longish fringe, green shot hazel eyes sparkled, surrounded by lush long eyelashes. That wide cupid bow mouth of hers was currently flattened as she surveyed Marcus, clearly unimpressed.
“You own this place?” Marcus surveyed the warm wood floors, the high ceilings, the coffee coloured walls, decorative arches and intricate iron support columns. There were only three racks of clothes to be found in the cavernous space and they were hardly packed with items. In the middle of the room, taking up a lot of space was a low coffee table, surrounded by comfy looking shabby chic wingback chairs and a matching sofa. The place screamed exclusive as soft music played in the background and the smell of lime, gardenia and jasmine infused the air. “You’re the one I was sent here to fetch? You’re the monster slayer? Not possible.”
“Lovely. I can see you haven’t grown any more endearing or less judgemental since our last encounter.”
“And I can see you are still overly sensitive. I wasn’t being judgmental the day we met, all I did was point out several very glaring, very practical problems that you would have to deal with in the very near future.”
Riya tossed her head, scoffing loudly. “And did I ask for your opinions? No. Which does not make me overly sensitive. It makes me normal. No one likes someone barging into their life, sticking their nose into personal and private matters, especially when it is completely and utterly no concern of theirs. Rather like now. Don’t let the door hit you on your arrogant ass on the way out.”
Marcus grimaced inwardly. Damn, what had happened to his plan of being polite? It was just this woman was so darn distracting. Every time he got close to Riya he seemed to lose all common sense and his mouth went on auto-pilot, determined to rile her up. “I didn’t come here to argue. Or dwell on past history that is best forgotten. Hadleigh sent me… we have a situation… she says you’re the only one who can fix it.”
“A situation? And you and the other jolly giants can’t deal with this… situation?”
Marcus wasn’t used to admitting to failure. It didn’t sit well with him that not only had Maat’s Elite been incapable of resolving the problem, but that they’d been forced to go to an outsider and request their help. Riya should be flattered that he was here. He was offering her the chance to do something meaningful. “Look, don’t you want to do more with your life than sew on buttons and sell over-priced clothes to a bunch of women who don’t even really need them?”
“You… you are an insufferable… rude… prejudiced… jerk. Just because I don’t run around chopping off heads with a battle-axe or shoot lightning out my eyes, you think what I do here is insignificant and unimportant.” Green hazel eyes sparkled with anger, while hot colour flooded Riya’s cheeks.
Marcus glanced around the large space. “I didn’t say that. Obviously you have built up a successful business here. Main street location. Excellent square footage. Exclusive one of a kind stock. Clearly made with high quality materials. I can’t comment on the design though, I’m no slave to fashion.”
Riya huffed out a soft, derisive sound as she surveyed Marcus in his black tactical pants, ass kicker boots and long sleeved fitted black top. “Yes, I can tell at a glance you rarely stray from the G-I Joe combat section of the department store.”
Marcus’s left eyebrow lifted for a brief second. “We’ve sunk to personal insults?”
“You started it.” Riya defended, resting her hands on her hips. “You practically radiate contempt for me and my powers. It’s a shock really that you are even here asking for my help.”
“I’m not asking for your help.”
“Hold on. You walk in here, asking me if I’m the monster slayer. Telling me you a have a situation - your word, not mine – that only I can deal with. And that’s not asking for my help?”
Marcus tossed his head to get the hair out of his eyes. “Hadleigh has indicated that your expertise would be best suited to dealing with the… situation. I’m giving you the opportunity to give back… to do something important with your life.”
He was so arrogant, and self-righteous, it was all Riya could do not to walk over and punch him. But she was afraid she’d hurt her hand on all that hard, lean muscle. “How is my dealing with your problem significant in the scheme of things? Are lives at stake?”
Marcus clenched his jaw. “Theoretically, yes. If someone doesn’t deal with this situation soon, it will seriously begin to hamper our ability to focus on new and developing supernatural threats. Not to mention how vital the TV show is in regards to hiding our real agenda. This monster could effectively destroy Para-Exterminators.”
Riya’s green shot hazel eyes sparkled. “You can’t bring yourself to ask for my help… can you?”
“Are you in, or not?”
“Didn’t think so. You have major control issues, you know that, right? Honestly, it’s not a sign of weakness to ask for someone’s help. It shows maturity. Common sense even. Using the best tool available for the job.”
Marcus just managed to unclench his teeth slightly. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
“I don’t think anyone listening to this conversation would acknowledge that you’ve even asked me a first time.” Seriously, was she beginning to enjoy this? The man was so arrogant, a bit of teasing was good for him.
“I’ve told you what’s going on.”
“Barely.”
“I can’t give you details. The situation is delicate and…” Marcus refused to say the word embarrassing out loud. “… sensitive. Hadleigh believes you can accomplish what six Warriors in the service to the Goddess Maat couldn’t. Yes, or no, are you coming?”
“Nice, using both flattery and guilt. Did you really think that would work on me?”
Marcus was struggling, he usually understood what motivated people within seconds of laying eyes on them, but Riya, he just didn’t get her. She was a mystery wrapped in gorgeous packaging. She laughed when she should be angry. Took offence when he tried to compliment her.
Hadleigh swore this woman could slay the monster terrorising Maat Tower, but Marcus seriously had his doubts. Riya’s magic appeared to be passive. And she personally couldn’t intimidate worth a damn. But still, Hadleigh thought she was the right weapon for the job.
Damn it, Marcus was used to getting results. But there had been no time to gather data on Riya. He hadn’t even known that was who he’d been sent here to fetch. All he had was an address. And he’d been too grateful for an excuse to escape the madness and destruction to ask for further intel. Which just went to prove how distracting and potentially dangerous the monster in their midst was.
“Look, Riya, this is important, a lot is at stake. I don’t want to play the bully card here, but I will if you force me to.”
Riya was intrigued rather than frightened, this was a Warrior of Maat, he had a strict code, he’d never hurt her. “So what are we talking about here, Charming, kidnapping?” She took a step closer to him. “Personal threats?” Another step closer. “Physical coercion?” Another step.
Marcus watched Riya close the distance between them. Seriously, the woman lacked basic street smarts. Hmm, suddenly he was very aware of her personal scent; blood orange, tiare flower and geranium. It fired his senses.
Riya reached up to tap a demanding fingernail against Marcus’s hard chest. “Just how exactly do you intend to make me do anything?”
Marcus’s gut clenched and his cock hardened. Those challenging words. How would he go about making this gorgeous woman do anything? Kiss her. Torment her. Touch and taste her until she couldn’t think straight and would agree to anything and everything he wanted to do to her… no, wait, what?
“Are you really prepared to put your hands on me to get what you want?” Riya fought not to wince, that had come out way too low, sexy and challenging. Thankfully Marcus wouldn’t interpret it that way, except, as she stared into those blue depths she saw heat flare.
Wow, this had gotten awkward fast, Riya’s heart was beating too rapidly, her mouth was dry and places low in her body had suddenly grown furnace hot. Her reaction to Marcus was completely unexpected, and totally unwanted… wasn’t it?
“You seem to be the one having a hard time keeping their hands to themselves.” Marcus looked pointedly down at the finger planted squarely in the middle of his chest still.
Riya whipped her finger away and took several steps back. Just like that, common sense descended like a bucket of cold water. She was just on edge after weeks of creating clothes with no clear Fate assigned to them. She was not attracted to not-so-Charming.
Marcus sucked in a deep breath. His skin still burned in the place where Riya had rested her finger against his chest. He fought the urge to rub at the spot. His mind had stuttered to a stop at her first tap and then gone into standby mode as she kept it there, his body taking over, unexpected raw need pulsing through him.
But he was more than his instincts, and he’d tamped down hard on them. Even so, it had taken more effort than he’d thought possible to talk, to point out to Riya that she was the one touching him.
Damn, he must be under more stress than he’d thought, he was so not attracted to the woman who made clothes of destiny… which sounded more lame every time he heard it. No, no way. Riya was not his sort of woman. He liked them corporate, focused and high-powered. Sexy, no nonsense women who ruled the boardroom, took no prisoners on the battlefield and played hard in the bedroom.
Riya was the antithesis of his dream woman. She was soft and sweet. Well, when she wasn’t being all challenging and sassy when he taunted her. And while obviously she’d done okay for herself, here with her little shop, she clearly didn’t aim to push the boundaries any further than Haven Bay. Plus, she came with a lot of baggage. Not just her large extended magical family but somewhere around here there was a toddler, probably with sticky fingers and a jam smeared mouth in need of wiping.
Nope, his physical reaction to Riya was nothing more than the by-product of over work and lack of sleep. Seven frustrating months had gone by and he had yet to discover a way to destroy the chaos imbued rubies that Rafe and Eli had stolen out from under Sek and Mot’s noses.
Turning up the frustration dial, Marcus and his team still had no lead on the whereabouts of the dynamic dickwad duo. After destroying the Egyptian wing of the Met, and a botched armed robbery at a Museum in Washington, with their faces plastered all over the media and every law enforcement agency on their tail, Sek and Mot had effectively disappeared.
And now, to load on to Marcus’s already overflowing plate, an uncontrollable monster had been unleashed in their midst at Maat Tower. One, it was galling to find out, that they were ill-equipped to defeat.
Yeah, that was it, he was definitely stretched too thin. And trying to convince Riya to step up was obviously a waste of his time. Marcus had tried talking to her. She clearly couldn’t be reasoned with. Worse, she was Hadleigh’s cousin, as much as it pained him, he couldn’t intimidate her. So that was it then. They’d have to come up with some other means of dealing with the creature.
Besides, Marcus had serious doubts that a woman who sewed dresses could defeat the monster tearing apart Maat Tower. This had been nothing but a wasted mission. Riya’s tame skill set was about as passive and low level as you could get. Marcus needed to get back to his hi-tech lair and trawl through the names of specialists he kept on file. Sure he’d been through the list twice already, but there had to be someone on there qualified to take on the beast.
Riya rubbed the tip of her finger absently, the one she’d used to touch Marcus, the damn thing was throbbing. Perhaps she’d sprained it on all that hard muscle. Conceited, arrogant, bull-headed jackass. Marcus stalks into her boutique and tries to bully her. Is sarcastic and rude. Expecting her to just drop everything and rush off to the other side of the world because he issues a demand. No way. Never going to happen.
The gentle chime of the door sounded, Riya’s attention was immediately caught and held by the newcomer. Death had arrived, casting a long shadow, effectively blocking the nearest exit. The Grim Reaper had walked into her boutique in the form of Drum, another of Maat’s Warriors.
Hitting the seven foot mark in height and easily twice as wide as his fellow Warriors, with bulging muscles on his already set of impressively bulging muscles, Drum was an effective tool to bring along, intimidation wise. There was just something about the brutally shorn black pelt of hair that clung to his skull and the way his bottomless black eyes stared at you that made the majority of the population go instinctively into fight or flight more. A large percentage wisely choosing the latter option.
Riya was not the majority of the population. “Hey, Drum.” She smiled in greeting. Her cousin Nell’s meld mate might look like an agent of death, but the man was honourable, smart and slyly funny. Even if he did occasionally shift into what Nell described as his mono-syllabic He-man mode.
“Please tell me you said yes to coming along and saving our desperate asses?” The big man’s voice was low and gravelly.
“How can I say no, when you ask so nicely.”
“What?” Marcus blinked, staring at Riya in surprise and confusion. Drum does little more than poke his head in the door and Riya was caving?
Riya turned and headed for the large archway that led through to the cavernous dressing room. Reaching in, she grabbed a large black roller bag and pulled it out. Then reached in for a second and then a third. Turning, she looked at Marcus. “Well? Don’t just stand there, the least you can do is help me with my luggage. I’m afraid we’ll have to take the Transportal from the Liaison Building as I haven’t had the opportunity to visit Maat Tower before.”
Drum bolted forward and grabbed the two largest bags, hefting them up as if they weighed no more than pillows. Marcus found himself scowling, striding forward he grabbed the handle of the remaining bag. “You knew we were coming?”
Riya shot him a bland smile. “I knew someone was coming.”
“And you felt the need to make me jump through all those hoops, why?”
Riya shook her head. “You did that all by yourself, Charming. All you had to do was use the word please. If you had just asked politely for my help, we could have avoided all that time wasting.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed as he glared at her. This woman did not compute. She was completely non-linear. He yanked the suitcase towards the door as Riya moved quickly around the room, turning off the sound system, switching off the lights and scooping up a small green suede handbag.
Marcus frowned as Riya pulled out her keys to lock up. What about the kid? Baby? Toddler? There weren’t any toys in evidence but that might only mean she kept the child out back, in her own private quarters. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Riya blinked slowly, mentally reviewing everything. “Oh, yes, thanks.” Flipping over the open sign, so that it would read closed.
Marcus opened his mouth and then slammed it shut. He would not ask about the kid, he would not get enmeshed in her personal life. All Riya had to do was slay one measly terrifying monster. How long could that take, two minutes? Five? By the end of today she’d be back here, no doubt in plenty of time to collect the kid from day-care or where ever she stashed it while she was at work. And Marcus would be free to concentrate on more important things, like destroying five chaos imbued rubies and tracking down the whereabouts of the dynamic dickheads, Sek and Mot.
And okay, yes, the three large suitcases were a little alarming. But what woman didn’t travel with everything but the kitchen sink, even for a half day excursion.
“Come on, Charming.” Riya held open the door impatiently. “You were the one insisting this was urgent and that we are on the clock.”
Marcus strode out, pulling the suitcase along in his wake. He would not comment. He would not be baited. He would cease verbally jousting with Riya Tong. It was a pointless exercise. Futile. And a waste of his valuable time. “How kind of you to remind me, Your Highness.” Heading off down the covered walkway at a fast clip.
Riya twisted the lock and turned to hurry after Marcus. Was the man implying she was some kind of demanding Princess? Hah, she’d just been trying to teach him a long overdue lesson in good manners. Your Highness? Rude, arrogant jerk.
Although, as Riya increased her pace in an attempt to close the distance, she had to reluctantly admit that the rude, arrogant jerk had a very nice, very tight ass.
Nope, don’t go there. She would not get distracted. This little adventure was obviously Fated, the three large suitcases of clothes finally beginning to make sense. Which meant Riya couldn’t afford to get side-tracked by an annoying judgemental know-it-all. She had a job to do. And if she was smart, she’d ignore the gorgeous, irritating man who made her heart race and her blood heat… because he was so very annoying, not because she enjoyed sparring with him. Not one little bit. She liked her men sweet and sensitive.
So yeah, the plan, head down, avoid not-so-Charming and help fulfil the path of destiny. Easy.