O-Men: Liege's Legion - Merc

by Elaine Levine

  Summer put her arm around Ash and introduced her. Besides Sam and Bastion, there was Acier, Guerre, and the Doctors Ratcliff. The group parted, opening a column of space that revealed him. Her secret lover. The saint of Valle de Lágrimas. The guy with the cliffside death wish.

  Him.

  Ash froze. Merc’s khaki eyes bored into hers. She dropped her purse and backpack, then took a few steps back. Her sweater fell from her limp arm. She backed away, faster, then turned and hurried past the dining room. She wasn’t sure where she was headed, only that she had to get away. His energy and hers in close proximity was explosive. She had questions—so many of them. Her relief that he was real, that he was well, that he was still alive swirled in her mind, pushing aside all other thoughts.

  In the kitchen, she almost took a turn to the right, heading for the exit. She needed to run, just go, get out into the open air.

  Go left.

  The command came from her own mind. In his voice.

  How could she know it was his voice when she’d never heard him speak? She didn’t pause to question it. She turned left and went into a service corridor. There was a bathroom, stairs, an elevator, a laundry room.

  Left again.

  She followed his command, entering a dark laundry room. He was right behind her. Lights came on. The door shut. They faced each other. Energy arced between them like in a plasma dome. Her breathing was ragged—she couldn’t pull enough air to satisfy her lungs as he closed the distance between them. The moment his hands touched her waist, her ragged breathing eased out in a deep sigh.

  His body was exactly as it had been in all her dreams and visions. Solid, bulky. She put her palms on his arms, feeling the tautness of his biceps. His head bent toward hers. She lifted up on tiptoes, meeting him halfway. A shiver ripped through her body as their lips touched. He turned his head and deepened the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his tongue claimed hers. His hand was at the back of her head, holding her so he could take what he wanted.

  Ash sucked air in through her flared nostrils, capturing his scent, losing herself in the deliciousness of him, a sweet musk mixed with another scent. Rain. No—not rain. This was the scent just before rain, the faint, earthy smell of an impending thunderstorm.

  Petrichor.

  God, she would never forget that scent or him or the feel of his hands on her body.

  He lifted her up to sit on the washer without breaking his kiss. She was vaguely aware of him fumbling with his jeans, and then his big hands slid up her thighs, under her skirt. He pulled aside her thong and entered her. The sensation was shocking and delicious. All the times she let her mind go down this road, she’d never quite been able to imagine penetration. She was wet—she had been since first seeing him. He slipped in and out easily. He pulled her hips closer, sealing their bodies together as he pumped into her.

  She locked her legs around his waist and held on with her arms wrapped around his neck. She freed a hand to touch his cheek, feeling his rough beard. He must be wearing contacts, for the room’s dim light caught in his eyes, making them seem to glow. His mouth was everywhere—on her cheek, her jaw, her neck, her mouth again. She couldn’t anticipate what he was going to do next and didn’t care to try. Everything he did felt amazing.

  She felt a pressure on her clit, soft and warm, bringing her body higher and tighter. The touch wasn’t from his hands—they were on her hips. He must have some secret movement, a rotation of his hips that…

  Rational thought abandoned her before she could complete that sentence. She started to cry out at her peak, but his mouth took hers, swallowing the sound. He stepped away from the washer and walked with her to a stretch of bare wall.

  She came again as they walked, then again when he leaned her against the wall and slammed into her. Or maybe it was just one long climax that he somehow knew how to keep rolling.

  Whatever, he held her thighs as he pulled out and pounded in. When her next orgasm hit and her body clamped down on his, they came together.

  The echoes of their passion were slow to leave their bodies. Ash was spent. She slowly became aware of where she was. Merc carried her back to the washing machine, then eased free. Too late, she realized they’d used no protection. She was on birth control, so she wasn’t worried about getting pregnant, but they’d been intimate before even speaking to each other. It was so upside down.

  Merc braced his fists on either side of her hips, leaning his forehead against hers. “I don’t have any problems there. And nor do you.”

  How had he known she was worried about STDs?

  “You cooled off fast, so I figured that was why,” he said.

  It was just like her dreams of him. Somehow he knew what to answer, like he pulled the worry from her mind.

  Ash moved her hands up his arms to rest them on his shoulders. “You’re real.”

  “So are you.”

  “I’ve been dreaming about you.”

  She stroked his face as she studied his eyes, and because she was watching so closely, she saw the fire in them cool, even as his face hardened. He straightened and pulled himself together. His hands fell to his sides. He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Ashlyn stared after him, wondering why he’d left…and where they went from there.

  She straightened her clothes and finger-combed her hair. Without her purse, she couldn’t check her makeup or reapply lipstick. And damn, everyone at the party would know what they’d just done.

  It was sexy and thrilling, yet she felt entirely too exposed. She needed a bit of time to compose herself before going on with the rest of the party.

  When she left the laundry room, Merc was right there, leaning against the wall, waiting for her. His arms were folded in front of him. His legs were braced slightly apart.

  She faced him. That was by far the most spontaneous round of sex she’d ever had. It also was a tiny nibble of a banquet she wanted to devour.

  “What happens now?” she asked.

  He stared into her eyes. Waves of emotion rolled off him, making him unreadable. “Nothing.”

  Nothing? “Right. Got it.” She moved away from him a step, then another, then pivoted and left the alcove. She made it out of the kitchen and into the courtyard before she remembered she had no way to leave without Kiera, who’d brought them.

  “Where are you going?” Merc asked, following her.

  “Home.”

  “You’re upset. I’ll drive you.”

  “No. God, I need a shower.”

  “You can shower here.”

  “I don’t have a change of clothes here.”

  “You can borrow something.”

  Ash couldn’t believe he’d said that. “You don’t want me to stay, but you don’t want me to go.”

  Merc shoved his fingers into his jeans pocket and rocked back on his heels. “It’s not even that. I don’t want you.”

  Ash’s chest locked up on her to the point where no air got in or out of her lungs. How could this man be a saint when he was so cruel?

  “Great. Glad we’re clear on that.” She nodded. “And it goes both ways.” Perfect. Could she be more middle school than that? She reached for her phone, then remembered it was in her purse, which was in the living room.

  The kitchen door opened and closed as Kiera came out with their things. “Let’s go.”

  Who told her that Ash was ready to go? Maybe she just had an instinct for things. Maybe she’d been watching for Ash to come out of the back corridor.

  Summer and Selena joined them. Ash felt her face heat up from the shame of the situation. She looked away from them.

  Merc held his hand up. “You don’t have to leave,” he told the others. “I’ll drive her home.”

  Kiera’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck that. I don’t abandon friends when they’re hurting.”

  Selena came forward. “I got this. I’ll drive her back. You guys stay here and have fun.”

  “I’m not some baby that needs to be taken car
e of,” Ash said, her voice sharp.

  “You got your own wheels?” Selena asked.

  Ash sighed. “No.”

  “Then you can use my car,” Selena offered. “And I go with my vehicle, so I’m driving.”

  Ash gave Summer and Kiera a regretful look. “I’m sorry.”

  Summer hugged her. “I am too, though I don’t know what happened. Call me tonight, okay?”

  Ash nodded but knew she probably wouldn’t. Kiera gave Merc a furious glare as she handed Ash’s things to her. “I don’t mind leaving.”

  Ash braved a smile. “I know. It’s all good. We’ll talk later.”

  She looked at Merc one last time, memorizing everything about him: his stoic expression, his light brown-green eyes, his curly, dark blond hair that was cropped close to his head.

  He looked every bit like a warrior angel. Her vision of one, anyway.

  As she and Selena headed toward the front gate, she heard Kiera say to Merc, “You hurt her again, I will reach down your throat and rip off your balls.”

  “Doesn’t work that way,” Merc said.

  “Try me.”

  Merc followed Ashlyn and Selena outside. Took no time for them to pull out onto the dirt road leading away from the fort. Selena was driving one of the team’s SUVs. As Merc watched, a red-orange glow appeared at the rear of the vehicle. It wasn’t brake lights. The light moved from inside the vehicle to the outside, up to the roof. It became elongated and took on the shape of a man.

  Fuck me dead. Selena, look in your rearview mirrors, Merc said. What do you see?

  Nothing. Why? What do you see?

  Nothing.

  You’re a laugh a minute, Merc. Making me think I picked up a ghoul hitchhiker.

  Ask Ash what she sees.

  Not doing it, Merc. You screwed her over enough for one night. She doesn’t need to worry about boogeymen following her home.

  Merc watched the car as far as he could. That orange glow grew into a giant orb. Even when the SUV was a couple of hills away—too far to see the vehicle—the glow was still visible.

  Merc began to shake.

  No. This couldn’t be happening.

  He backed into the fort, then mentally slammed the doors shut. He yanked the door of the glass hallway open and slammed it behind him. On the second floor, as he came off the stairs, he saw that Liege and Guerre had come into the courtyard. He ignored them. He went into his room, slamming that door shut too. The rage he’d felt as soon as he set eyes on Ash just kept growing.

  What the hell made the Matchmaker think Merc had room in his heart for anyone new?

  The drive home was long, awkward, and silent. Ash was grateful that Selena didn’t try to make small talk. Halfway home, Ash turned her lights on in the house. A little while later, Selena pulled into her driveway.

  Ash gathered her stuff. “Thanks for driving me home.” She reached for the door latch, but Selena stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “I’ve been where you are,” Selena said.

  Ash frowned. “Meaning?”

  “Dating one of the team.”

  “One of the team?” Ash repeated as she tried to make sense of Selena’s words. “Team of what?”

  “Fighters.”

  “Like…cage fighters?”

  “No.”

  “Terrorist fighters?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Geez, what had Summer gotten herself into at the fort? A wash of thoughts slammed into Ash—all the things she had felt odd about the situation. The group of unusually big guys, the fort, the commune situation there.

  “So…are you part of a cult?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “Not really a cult and not exactly terrorist fighters. What is it you’re all doing?”

  “Fighting evil.”

  Evil. Evil. Ash managed to stop herself from audibly repeating everything Selena told her, but she still had to say it to herself. “Are you some kind of religious group?”

  “No.”

  Somewhere in the back of Ash’s mind, that high-pitched whine kicked up again, filling her brain with a warning hum. “So what kind of evil do you fight? I mean, some evil can be hard to define.”

  “And some is not.”

  “Like pedophilia.”

  “Worse.”

  Ash was cursed with an intensely curious mind. “Murder.”

  “Worse.”

  The humming got stronger. Ash thought of all those dead bodies Merc had left behind in Valle de Lágrimas—the gangbangers stuck to their chairs and the pit heaped with the dead.

  “Great. That’s just perfect.” Selena had made a situation that was fairly clear to Ash—based on its weirdness—now crystal clear. She left the car and walked around it toward her kitchen door.

  Selena rolled down her window. “I’ll see you later.”

  Ash shook her head. “No. You won’t. I’m done. I’m out.”

  The look Selena gave her was disturbing. “It’s not up to us. Merc’s been chosen for you.” She backed out of Ash’s driveway.

  Ash watched her turn back the way she’d come. Yeah, Ash wasn’t having any of that fruit punch. How had Summer and Kiera—Kiera, of all people—been taken in by these people?

  And what was that baloney about Merc’s having been chosen for her? He’d all but booted her from the fort.

  I don’t want you, he’d told her.

  She went inside her house through the kitchen, then into the living room. Out of habit, she reached for her glass medallion at her neck.

  She muttered a derogatory comment, then yanked the medallion over her head and tossed it in the kitchen trash. She’d take the whole thing out tomorrow. Time to sever ties with the miasma that had piggybacked its way home with her, clogging her mind and heart.

  I don’t want you. Merc’s cruel words kept sifting through her mind.

  She moved about the house, following her nighttime routine of shutting things down, locking things up, bathing.

  A half-hour later, she sat in her bed in the dark, wishing she was so tired that sleep would come easily. Instead, fragments of the evening filtered through her mind—the first look she and Merc exchanged, the feeling in her stomach when she recognized him, the masterful way he worked her into a fever of hunger and need… And the brutal way he extinguished all thoughts of a future together.

  She supposed he couldn’t be a saint without having an ego to match.

  Better to know that now. Another man might have played her for a few months, stealing key parts of her heart and soul before dropping her.

  Ash bent her knees and bowed her head to rest on them. Summer and Kiera had somehow fallen under the sway of the people at the fort. She thought of Selena’s regretful expression as she’d said, It isn’t up to us.

  What did that mean? Ash sure as hell did have her free will. And so did Summer and Kiera. She had to get them out of there. Somehow.

  14

  Sam smiled as he wrapped his arms around Summer later that night. Her pale skin looked like a sandy shore in the moonlight. He always felt there was something magical about her.

  “What’s got you so serious tonight?” he asked. “Worried about what happened with Ash and Merc?”

  “She hasn’t been herself since she returned. I don’t really know what’s going on with her. She came back withdrawn and hasn’t shaken it off.”

  “It’s a long trip from here to Colombia. Maybe she just has jet lag.”

  “She doesn’t usually after a trip. At least, none that persists this long.” Summer’s blue eyes held his. “And that weird thing that happened with Merc threw her for a loop.”

  “Yeah, that was bad.”

  “I don’t know what’s up with them, but I don’t want her hurt if he’s too broken for a healthy relationship.”

  “I agree, but it isn’t up to us.”

  “There’s something else. She thinks she was in the same village Merc was in. She has a fantastical story about him—o
r someone—doing miraculous things. The villagers think he’s a saint. She has a necklace made of dirt in a bit of handblown glass—dirt where Merc almost died.”

  Sam sighed and flopped back on the mattress.

  Summer sat up and frowned at him. “Merc was in Colombia, wasn’t he?”

  “He was.”

  “Is it—is it possible he met Ashlyn there?”

  “No. He was back before she left. So other than sending him in astral form to protect her that night in the jungle, their paths didn’t cross.”

  “Kiera and I thought the entire town played a hoax on her, getting her to believe a crazy story about a saint who saved the village.”

  “It wasn’t a hoax. Merc fucked up. He got too involved and messed with things he should have left alone.”

  “Oh. God. Then it’s all true. How can he have made what the villagers are calling miracles?”

  Sam leaned on his elbow, looked at her, then sat up. “You’ve seen the strange things I can do. Well, it appears Merc’s skills branched out into new and different areas. We’re still trying to understand it.” He paused, giving her a considering look. “Ash isn’t one of us, Summer. I don’t want her brought in on things she doesn’t need to know. It’s for her own good.” He sat up. “You know the Omnis will use her any way in they can. You, Kiera, now Ash, you’re all vulnerable to their incursions. I don’t want any of you hurt.”

  “Well, Kiera already knows about you. And I think Ash is getting in over her head, dealing with forces she doesn’t understand. What was Merc doing down there?”

  Liege considered his answer. “I sent him to find the man who trained us in the jungle. I need him here to train you and Selena.”

  “Selena, maybe, but I’m not a fighter.”

  “You aren’t, but you have new skills you’ve never had before. You need to learn to use them. You’re one of us now, Summer. An artist, not a fighter, it’s true. But there are things about your new chemistry that you need to understand.”

  Summer nodded. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

  “I regret you may have to lie to your friend.”

  “Me too. So what is happening between Ash and Merc?”