To Fight A Fate (Southern Sanctuary - Book 11)

by Jane Cousins

  “Is she okay in there? Maybe I should go check on her?”

  “She’s fine. She has junk food being smuggled in by Pepsy, one of the camera guys. And I know for a fact she’s been skyping with Nell every afternoon, because I monitor the link.”

  “What’s she doing in there?”

  “Playing Call of Duty and Monsters of Elagnore, mostly. Beheading Ice Giants. Killing people. Taking her frustrations out on the big screen rather than on Vaughn. We’re all keeping our distance. You know what it’s like when a meld couple fight.”

  Riya nibbled on a piece of chicken, nodding. Boy did she. Southern Sanctuary meld couples were notorious for their spectacular fights and their even more spectacular make-up sex. She knew of some couples who made it a habit to pick regular fights, just for the fun of it.

  Problem was, meld couples emitted a lot of magic, it’s what kept the Southern Sanctuary magical grid operational and helped to hide the Sanctuary itself from the mundane world. When they fought. When they made up. When they had sex. Meld couples emitted waves of power and emotion. Being a bystander and getting caught in the backlash could get very uncomfortable.

  Still, Hadleigh was one of Riya’s best friends. She hated to think that her cousin and Vaughn were missing out on enjoying this special time in their lives together because of fear and sheer pig headedness. Could they just talk out their problems? No. If Hadleigh couldn’t kill something she had no idea how to deal with it.

  There had to be something Riya could do, if only Fate would step up and… oh, suddenly the silvery dress she’d been working on this morning made sense.

  Honestly, she wouldn’t be stumbling around in the dark at the moment if Fate would just lift the veil and let her catch glimpses of the person she was creating for and the decisions they were facing. But no, Fate could be tricky and contrary like that. Possibly not wanting Riya’s actions to influence the outcome directly, or just playing games. Who knew.

  “What’s up? You suddenly look very intense.” Marcus ate the last bit of chicken and began making serious inroads into the salad remaining on his plate. Grilled and fresh vegetables mixed together were surprisingly tasty.

  “I just connected some dots, that’s all. Nothing for you to worry about. So, let’s talk about you and how you can have a better work and life balance.”

  “Pardon?” Marcus’s eyebrow lifted briefly.

  “You’re the one always going on about medical and scientific reports. You know what they say about stress, over-work and not taking time for yourself.”

  “I’m an Elite Warrior, I take my stress out on the sparring mat and in the field. I don’t need yoga and granola in my life.”

  Riya shook her head, her waterfall of raven black hair rippling like a river of moonlit water. “There is none so blind as those who preach, but won’t put into practise their own words.”

  Marcus had cleaned his plate. Placing his cutlery down he scooped up his lime water and downed the last few mouthfuls. Damn, he felt like a new man thanks to Riya’s care. “Thank you, I needed that.” He was big enough to express his gratitude.

  “You’re very welcome. But it doesn’t get you out of this discussion. Come on, Charming, you must see that you have way too much on your plate for one man.”

  “I’m not a man, I’m an Elite Warrior.”

  Riya scoffed a derisive laugh. “Who still has limits. Who can be hurt. Gets hungry, thirsty.”

  “I have everything under control.”

  “And we’re back to you and your control issues, no surprise there.”

  “Some of us don’t have the luxury of sitting around on our ass all day knitting and sewing on buttons. Some of us are trying to save the world. We don’t get to rest, relax, or take a break from that.”

  Riya’s eyes narrowed. Damn, every time she started to forget that Marcus was a judgemental, superior jerk, he went and reminded her. Which was so a good thing.

  What had she been thinking hanging out with him in his cosy apartment? Which in itself had been a shock. She’d been expecting metal, lots of white and sort of futuristic. Instead it was kind of New York loft, with lots of warm woods, exposed brick, large comfy leather seating and little in the way of visible technology.

  And yes, okay, she’d been concerned for his health. But not only had she fed and watered him, she’d given him an awesome haircut that made him even more sinfully attractive. Go her. And what had she gotten in return? A thank you and a verbal slap putting her firmly back in the pigeon hole Marcus has assigned her, the one labelled weak and useless. Just lovely.

  Pushing away her half eaten salad, Riya clapped her hands. “Good, if you can insult me the concussion must have cleared up, which means it’s nap time my friend.”

  Marcus’s lips twisted up at the corners as he contemplated the gorgeous woman standing across the kitchen island from him. The one that his body seemed to crave and that thankfully his common sense realised was totally off limits. Oh sure, the sex would probably be great, better than great. But even if they kept it brief, there was no getting around the fact Riya was related to Hadleigh, they would always be linked.

  They had nothing in common. He was a Warrior in service to the Goddess Maat. He punished and killed those that sought to bring strife, injustice and chaos into the world. He wielded a sword and utilised the information he hoarded to analyse, track and fight the bad guys. He loved structure. Schedules. Plans.

  Riya owned a shop. One she seemed okay to just up and leave at a moments notice. She sashayed through life, doing whatever she wanted, with whomever she wanted. Case in point, the child at home and the missing in action deadbeat loser Dad. Riya made clothes. Proclaimed to be an agent of Fate. Okay, yes, she seemed to have temporarily tamed Dimity Forrest. Or at the least calmed her down.

  But everyone knew women could be distracted by sparkly geegaws and the like. No doubt one of them eventually would have come up with the smart idea to just start throwing light blue boxes from Tiffany’s at Dimity and they would have achieved the same result.

  “Nap time?” Marcus chuffed a deep laugh. “You and what army?”

  “I could just call up Drum, who is basically an army of one. But he won’t be needed right now. Where’s the bedroom in this place? That way?”

  “I’m not taking a nap like some infant.”

  “You certainly sound cranky enough to be considered an infant. Come on.” Riya rounded the kitchen island and held out a hand in invitation to Marcus. “I’ll even help you get there.”

  “You’re mad. I don’t need a nap and I certainly don’t need help.”

  Riya’s smile turned into a full blown grin. “You sure about that, Charming? Your eyelids aren’t starting to feel heavy? Your legs aren’t beginning to feel like jelly?”

  “I…” Marcus frowned. His eyelids did feel heavy. His head starting to grow fuzzy. His legs felt a million miles away. “You… what did you do?”

  “Lime in the water, it camouflaged the knock out juice I gave you. It’s a specialty of Nell’s, perfect for the Elite Warrior. There was a dose in the emergency kit in your bathroom.” Riya grabbed his large hand and tugged.

  Marcus found himself on his feet, following Riya as she headed for his bedroom. No, that’s not where he… Marcus blinked staring down at Riya. Suddenly he found himself seated on the edge of his bed, Riya was kneeling in front of him pulling off his boots. “Where…?”

  Riya stood up. “Come on, Charming, just give into it. Lie back down.”

  “No… work.” And there was another reason he didn’t want to go to sleep, wasn’t there? Oh, yes. “Dreams… weird dreams.”

  “They’re only dreams. Come on.” Riya reached out, planted a hand on his shoulder and gave him a push. Nothing. Damn, these sturdy Warrior types were solidly built. Stepping forward, between his legs, Riya placed both hands on his shoulders and pushed hard. Bloody Hell. “Marcus.” His hypnotic dark blue eyes, only a few inches away now, lifted to meet hers, his eyelids were drooping
with fatigue and it took a moment for him to focus on her.

  “Pretty.” He reached out, encircling Riya’s waist, pulling her in closer still.

  “Marcus.” Riya found herself plastered up against him. Now she was pushing hard on his shoulders to separate them. “Let… go. Marcus?”

  “It’s all… good.” Wow, Riya felt great in his arms, and suddenly he was so tired. It felt the most natural thing in the world to lean his head down and snuggle into those soft high breasts of hers.

  “Marcus!” Double damn, Riya’s nipples had tightened instantly, a throbbing ache setting up home between her legs. Honestly, she needed to stop doing favours for big jerks who didn’t deserve her time or attention. They kept back firing on her. Well, not this time. Riya planted her feet and pushed with all her might and… Marcus just snuggled his head in closer and released a small happy sigh.

  Nope, not going to happen. They couldn’t stay like this. Planting a foot on the edge of the bed, Riya strained backwards with all of her might. And for her efforts she actually managed to move away all of two inches before Marcus tightened his grip, bringing her in close and then collapsing back onto the bed, rolling on to his side, taking her with him.

  Riya couldn’t believe her awful luck. Of all the insanity. Stuck here. On a big, insanely comfy bed. Trapped in the arms of an Elite, gorgeous, but too often the jerk, Warrior. There was no point in struggling or calling out for help. It wasn’t like anyone would hear her.

  Crap, no, she didn’t believe in luck, good or bad. She believed in Fate. And for some reason Fate wanted her snuggling on an oversized bed with Marcus. Oh damn, no. No! If Fate thought that she and Marcus belonged together, then Fate had another thing coming.

  Marcus, the father of her baby? No. No way. Her and him? Together? Parents? It was ludicrous. Impossible. Never in a million years.

  Grrr, she would fight Fate until her very last breath. She would not hitch herself to a workaholic, no time for fun, know-it-all, judgemental, opinionated jerk who dismissed her magic as woo-woo and pithy.

  And let’s not forget the glaring fact that Marcus had come right out and said that the two of them together was a preposterous match up.

  So Fate had another thing coming.

  Shit, but none of that changed the current situation, did it? Trapped in the arms of a gorgeous, over large, surprisingly not smothering Elite Warrior.

  Marcus’s heart thudding against her was rhythmic and soothing. He was so warm. The bed so comfortable. She would just rest her eyes for a moment and then start working on a plan to thwart Fate. Hmmm, just close her eyes… breathe, listen to Marcus’s steady, dependable heartbeat and… sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hey, Lover.” The woman’s voice was low and all kinds of sexy.

  Sweat clung to Marcus’s skin, muscles still quivered. He smiled at the beautiful woman who was lying in his arms. She was gorgeous, perfect. Expensively styled sleek blonde hair cut in a bob. Dark brown sparkling eyes. High cheekbones. Full lips. With streamlined toned curves plastered against him. “Hello back.”

  The blonde tossed her head, releasing a familiar throaty chuckle, it was a delightfully wicked sound, if a little too practised. “I’m very, very grateful you asked me to stay, but all things as they say must come to an end. Unless you’re up for round two?”

  Was he? Shockingly, no. Even with this gorgeous woman lying naked in his arms his cock could have been less than interested. That was kind of worrying.

  The blonde… By The Sun, what was the woman’s name? Damn, this was embarrassing. Round one had been great… hadn’t it? Shit, he couldn’t seem to call up specifics and worse, he couldn’t recall his playmate’s name. Weirder still how he was fighting the urge to push her away. Something was wrong. “Um…” Marcus glanced around the room. Recognising the grey walls, the sleigh bed, all familiar, except for the blonde.

  Blonde? Admittedly she was gorgeous, and yet his cock couldn’t be convinced. What the hell was wrong with him?

  “So…?” The blonde smiled at Marcus expectantly. Waiting for a move or some kind of response.

  He couldn’t kick her out of bed, though that was his first instinct. Instead, Marcus hugged her gently, running fingers lightly along the pale skin of her collarbone. Hmm, the skin tone was wrong as well, it should have been a warmer colour. Crap, he was a bastard. He had obviously invited this woman home, and based on looks along and the swish designer suit and expensive lingerie strewn across his floor she was his normal, go to, type of woman. So he’d better get with the program and at least be polite. “When can we meet up again?”

  “I have back to back meetings for the rest of the week. A quick trip to Chicago on Friday to sign a contract and then a charity function in the Hamptons on Saturday. How does Sunday work for you?”

  Just how Marcus liked his women, focused and intense. Yet… something was holding him back. Her… what was her name again? Talk about impolite. “Sunday would be great.” Marcus answered automatically.

  “And what do you have planned for the week?” The blonde idly traced a circle on his chest with a sharp fingernail.

  “Same old, same old.” Marcus shifted slightly, hair falling into his eyes, impatiently he reached up to push it away, only to find that his hair was suddenly short and nowhere near his eyes. What the hell was going on?

  “What about those rubies you were talking about?”

  He’d told her about the rubies? He couldn’t even remember her name and he was spilling major secrets? Something was off here. Marcus tried to get up but suddenly the woman was straddling him, pushing him back down on the bed, a playful smile on her lips. “Not so fast, Lover.”

  Damn, she was strong. “What the....” Marcus grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her off. This was wrong. Everything was wrong. But especially this woman was wrong. The curves should have been more rounded. The mouth more cupid bow shaped and the hair… it should have been darker, a lot darker.

  “Honestly, it doesn’t have to be like this. Just tell me where the rubies are and I’ll be on my way.”

  Marcus tried to struggle, buck the blonde off. But she was too strong, pinning him to the bed effortlessly. “Who the hell are you?”

  Dark brown eyes blinked. “Men, even you don’t know what you want in life. I did my research. I’m your perfect woman. You should be a puddle at my feet, willing to do anything to keep me happy.” The blonde sighed. “This contract has been nothing but trouble from the get go. First, you won’t fall asleep. And when you do, you keep fighting me off. Well, not this time. I’ve got you right where I want you and I’m not letting you go until you tell me where those bloody rubies are.”

  Marcus bucked and strained, desperately trying to dislodge the woman, creature, what ever she was pinning him to the bed. “No.” He pushed upwards, muscles straining, determined to break free.

  Dark eyes flashed with worry as Marcus began to make some headway. “No.” The woman desperately pushed back.

  Marcus strained harder still. Suddenly there was a loud crack, his head snapped to the side and he was free. With a speed born from anger and instinct, Marcus wrapped a hand around the woman’s throat, the next moment they were off the bed and he had her pinned against the nearest wall. “I’ll tell you nothing, understand?” He shook her hard. “Nothing.”

  “Marcus?” His name was a strangled whisper, the eyes staring at him weren’t dark brown but hazel green.

  “Shit.” He released his hold, just managing to catch hold of Riya before she hit the ground. “Riya! Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” Marcus carried her back to the bed, sitting her carefully on the edge.

  Riya reached up and rubbed her throat, swallowing with difficulty. She stared down at a kneeling Marcus, his assessing gaze lit with concern and warring guilt. “Ow.” Her voice just above a husky whisper.

  “How badly did I hurt you? Do you need me to call Nell?”

  Riya shook her head, slowly, carefully. “You… play rough, Ch
arming.”

  “I was… dreaming.”

  Riya shook her head, wincing as her neck muscles protested. “No, it was… more than just a dream. I couldn’t wake you.”

  Marcus released his hold on her, when Riya showed no signs of collapsing he turned quickly and headed into the bathroom, returning a few seconds later with a damp washcloth. “Here.”

  Riya gratefully took it, pressing the cool material against her throat. “Tell me about the dream?”

  Marcus frowned, the details were already growing fuzzy, but there was something critical he needed to remember. “There was a woman, a blonde. Beautiful. We were… chatting.” And what? Come on, think. “She asked me about the rubies, where they were hidden.” He snapped his fingers. “She mentioned a contract.”

  Riya swallowed, this time it was easier. Dragons, even half-dragons, were thankfully pretty darn sturdy. “Sounds like you’re being specifically targeted.”

  A hired contractor trying to find the rubies. Damn, he should have considered that Sek and Mot would go that route. They’d proven in the past they were happy to pay for hired help to get the job done rather than risk their own hides.

  But to be able to enter his dreams? How did he fight off a creature like that? “Shit, there goes the idea of me getting any sleep in the near future.”

  “You can’t be serious? Everyone needs to sleep. You’ll be next to useless in another forty-eight hours.”

  “I did break free of her hold. I suppose I can do it again.” Marcus rubbed his jaw absently, when was the last time he’d shaved?

  “Yeah, about that.” Riya found it hard to meet his gaze. “I might have helped you along with the wake up process.”

  Marcus pressed his jaw harder, feeling a faint bruise, recalling a crack, pain. “You hit me?”

  Riya nodded. “You bet I did. As hard as I could. You were rolling around. Moaning. Thrashing. Yelling.”

  “I suppose a thank you is in order.” He offered grudgingly.

  “My pleasure.” Riya shot Marcus a grin, standing up. “Any time.”