by Addison Fox
Ilsa stared down at him, love shining from her eyes with the brightness of a thousand suns. “Always and forever.”
Kane stood and pulled her into his arms, crushing his mouth to hers.
With a whispered promise against her lips, he repeated her words back to her before taking her lips in a soul-searing kiss.
“Always and forever.”
AQUARIUS/SCORPIO STAR CHART
Attraction may be strained when sensual Scorpio meets independent Aquarius.
Although the Aquarius woman takes issue with the sometimes dictatorial nature of her Scorpio, his innate sensuality, magnetic personality and deep convictions will win her over. The Scorpio man is fiercely protective of his mate and will guard her to the end of his days.
Our sexy Scorpio seeks a woman who is his match in every way, not easily cowed by his sharp sting. Scorpios are sincere and honest and expect the same in return.
Although the road will be undoubtedly full of twists and turns for Kane and Ilsa, if the two can get beyond the battles each wage within their souls—and learn to trust the other with their deepest secrets—their love can overcome any obstacle placed in their path.
GLOSSARY
Ages of Man—the stages of human existence, as identified by the Greek writer Hesiod. Most often associated with metals, the Ages—Gold, Silver, Bronze, Heroic and Iron—reflect the increasing toil and drudgery humans live in. The world only thinks the ages are myth. . . .
Cardinal—a sign quality, Cardinal signs (Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn) mark the start of each season. Those born under Cardinal signs are considered dynamic and, like each season, forceful in its beginnings. Cardinal Warriors are equally dynamic, forcing change with their impatient natures and independent spirits.
Chimera—with the body and head of a lion, the tail of a snake and the head of a goat extending from the center of its back, the chimera is one of the eleven monsters of Mount Olympus. Created by the goddess Echidna—the Mother of all Monsters—her menagerie is a favorite resource of terror for Deimos and Phobos.
Corybants—legendary male dancers, clothed in armor and playing drums. Their loud, rhythmic playing was said to drown out the cries of the baby Zeus so he wouldn’t be discovered in his hiding place on Mount Ida.
Deimos—the son of Ares and Aphrodite, he is the god of dread. He is the brother of Phobos.
Destroyer—a soulless creature created by Enyo from an emotionally damaged human. They take on the appearance of men, but their bodies are nothing but husks, filled with a superconductive life force. They can be slowed and hurt, but quickly recover. The only way to kill a Destroyer is by removing his head. Each Destroyer Enyo creates takes some of her power, an innate balance agreed to during the creation of the Great Agreement.
Element—just as all signs are Cardinal, Fixed or Mutable, each sign also possesses an elemental quality of Fire, Earth, Air or Water. Each Warrior has an elemental nature to his sign, allowing for additional powers for those who have learned to develop them. These elemental qualities exist beyond those granted to all Warriors—immortality, the ability to port, rapid healing and above-average strength—and have begun to express themselves as the Warriors have grown more comfortable in their abilities and better understand the full range of their skills.
Enyo—the goddess of war, Enyo is the daughter of Zeus and Hera. Equipped with the ability to create anarchy and death wherever she goes, Zeus offered Enyo up to Themis for their Great Agreement. Before Zeus allowed Themis to create the Sons of the Zodiac, she had to agree to a counterbalance to the Warriors’ power. Enyo provides the balance, at constant war with Themis’s Warriors. For each battle Enyo wins, her power grows. As such, for each she loses, her power is diminished.
Equinox—a nightclub owned by Grey Bennett, Aries Warrior. Each Warrior has a role within the whole and Grey’s is to keep an eye on the underbelly of New York for Enyo’s likely crop of new Destroyers. What none of the Warriors knows is that Grey carries a secret—one that will lead him to his destiny or to his doom. . . .
Fixed—a sign quality, Fixed signs (Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius) mark the middle of each season. Those born under Fixed signs are considered quite stubborn and persistent. Fixed Warriors are equally stubborn and persistent, unwilling to yield to their enemies.
Great Agreement—an agreement entered into during the Iron Age (the Fifth Age of Man) by Zeus and Themis. Fearful that her beloved humans had no protection from the trials of life, Themis entered into an agreement with Zeus that created the Sons of the Zodiac. The Sons of the Zodiac are Warriors modeled after the circular perfection of the heavens and each Warrior carries the immutable qualities of his sign. Under the Great Agreement, the immortal Warriors will battle Zeus’s daughter Enyo, the goddess of war, for the ultimate protection, quality and survival of humanity.
Hera—wife of Zeus and mother of Enyo.
Iron Age—the Fifth Age of Man, generally thought to be about ten thousand years ago, where humans toil in abject misery. Brothers fight brothers, children turn against their fathers and anarchy is the rule of the land. During this age the gods have forsaken humanity. It is during this time that Themis—desperate to alter the course of human existence—goes to Zeus and enters into the Great Agreement. During this age, the Sons of the Zodiac are created.
Hades—god of the Underworld and brother to Zeus and Poseidon.
MI6—the British government’s foreign intelligence service, also known as the Secret Intelligence Service (SIS).
Mount Ida—the legendary site in Crete where Rhea hid her son, Zeus, as a baby from his father, Cronus.
Mutable—a sign quality, Mutable signs (Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces) mark the end of each season. Those born under Mutable signs are the most comfortable with change, making them easily adaptable and resourceful. Mutable Warriors are the first to see the big picture, able to adapt and shift their battle plans at a moment’s notice. Their ability to see issues from multiple angles make them strong Warriors and a comfort to have watching your back.
Nemesis—the Greek goddess of divine retribution. The name Nemesis means “to give what is due.”
Phobos—the son of Ares and Aphrodite, he is the god of fear. He is the brother of Deimos.
Port—shortened form of teleport, the Warriors and Destroyers both have the ability to move through space and time at will. Porting will diminish power.
Prophecy of Thutmose III—a prophecy, carved on the walls of Thutmose III’s tomb and not discovered until the early twenty-first century. The Prophecy outlines the power of the Summoning Stones of Egypt, for those who are chosen by them.
Sons of the Zodiac—created by Themis, the goddess of justice, upon her Great Agreement with Zeus. The Great Agreement stipulates for a race of Warriors—156 in total— that will have the traits of their zodiac sign. Tasked to protect humanity, they are at war with Enyo. A Warrior is immortal, although he may be killed with a death blow to the neck. Removal of a Warrior’s head is the only way to kill him. The Warriors’ strength may be reduced from extended time in battle, multiple ports and little food. A Warrior’s strength will be replaced with food, sleep or sexual orgasm. Each Warrior has a tattoo of added protection that lives within his aura.
Stregheria—an ancient Italian practice of witchcraft, which formed the basis for Emmett the Sorcerer’s poisonous spell placed upon Kane Montague, Scorpio Warrior.
Summoning Stones of Egypt—the five Summoning Stones of Egypt were crafted during the reign of Thutmose III. For those who are chosen—and there will be a Chosen One in each age—the Stones give the user the power to control the universe. Each of the five stones represent a different element—death, life, love, sexuality, and infinity.
Tartarus—a prisonlike pit that lives under the Underworld. Zeus’s father, Cronus, is housed in Tartarus at Zeus’s hand.
Themis—one of the twelve Titans, Themis is the goddess of justice. Disheartened that her beloved humans toiled in misery and abject drudgery, she petitioned Zeus
to allow her to intercede. With Zeus she entered into the Great Agreement, which provided for the creation of the Sons of the Zodiac, 156 Warriors embodied with the traits of their signs. Originally she envisioned twelve of twelve—but upon reaching her agreement with Zeus gained an additional twelve Warriors so Gemini might have his twin. Themis’s Warriors live across the globe, battling Enyo and keeping humanity safe.
Titans—the original twelve children born of Uranus (Father Sky) and Gaia (Earth). Themis is one of the Titans, as is Cronus, Zeus’s father.
Warrior’s Tattoo—the Warrior’s Tattoo is inked on his body, generally on his upper shoulder blade (right or left). The tattoo lives within the Warrior’s aura and, when the Warrior is in danger the tattoo will expand as an additional form of protection. The tattoo is never separate; rather, it provides additional protection through the Warrior’s life force.
Xiphos—an ancient Greek weapon, the Xiphos is a double-edged blade less than a foot in length. The Warriors each carry one, strapped on their calves. Although a Warrior may deliver a death blow to a Destroyer’s neck when in close range, the Xiphos provides them with an additional tool in battle. Although a Warrior may use any Xiphos—or any weapon—when necessary, each Warrior was granted a Xiphos at his turning. Although nothing more than metal, many Warriors find a personal connection with their Xiphos through millennia of battle.
Zeus—the king of the gods and ruler over Mount Olympus. Zeus is married to Hera. Zeus’s first wife was Themis, the goddess of justice and one of the Titans. Zeus entered the Great Agreement with Themis, which resulted in the protectors for humanity—the Sons of the Zodiac.
Turn the page for a preview of
the next powerful romance in
Addison Fox’s Sons of the Zodiac series,
WARRIOR BETRAYED
Coming from Signet Eclipse in May 2011.
Quinn Tanner reveled in the night air as it whipped around his body, battering him with the force of an oncoming subway train. The October night was unexpectedly chilly, the blustery air a clear indication that winter was on its way.
He wended his way up Fifth Avenue, the heavy foot traffic of Midtown giving way to a tonier look and feel as he crossed into the Upper East Side. Despite the evidence of increased wealth and more sedate foot traffic the farther north he walked, the vibe of the city wasn’t completely lost.
Three teenagers in matching plaid school uniforms squealed in a huddled mass over the middle girl’s cell phone.
A food deliveryman fought in a mix of English—and was that Italian?—with a doorman as he juggled a cardboard box of food on the handlebars of his bike.
Several taxis let up a cacophony of horns when a Ford Focus in the lead didn’t move the moment the light turned green.
Gods, he loved New York.
He’d lived in nearly every major city in service as a Taurus Warrior to Themis, the great goddess of justice. From ancient Rome to London during the Dark Ages to a brief stint helping to colonize Australia—and many more places that had blended into a mental soup of blurred memories. None came even remotely close to New York in the early-twenty-first century.
Wild energy pulsing with life.
As he crossed the next crosswalk, Quinn’s gaze scanned the large apartment building that dominated the entire block. His mental tally counted four video cameras and an eagle-eyed doorman whose harsh, craggy face and hulking body screamed bodyguard far louder than it did “I accept packages and visitors.”
Stepping into the ornate marble-arched doorway, where he noticed his own frame was about two inches larger than the doorman’s, Quinn stated his business. “I’d like to see Ms. Montana Grant.”
The doorman’s face never flinched but his blue eyes went flinty and cold. “Ms. Grant doesn’t accept visitors.”
“Not even those with appointments?”
Again, not a flinch, nor did the man even glance at the calendar in front of him at his station. “Ms. Grant doesn’t have any appointments today.”
Quinn moved a few inches closer, tossing a pointed stare at the date book. “You didn’t even check your book.”
“I know.”
Quinn was impressed with the man’s stoicism. He had the exact qualities Quinn looked for in his staff—firm, harsh demeanor and a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude that would keep most people from thinking twice about making trouble. Alas, Quinn wasn’t on a hiring spree at the moment.
He was on a fact-finding mission.
The elevator doors opened across the lobby as an older couple tottered out, the woman in a large fur that touched the floor and the man in a hat that had gone out of fashion sometime in the nineteen fifties. To the untrained eye, it would look as if Quinn were observing the couple, but what he really saw was the open elevator.
And as the lobby doors swished closed, Quinn knew he had what he needed. Now that he had an image of the inside of the elevator, he had the visual he required to port back to the apartment later that evening.
With a glance out at the crowded hotel ballroom, Montana Grant took a deep breath and smoothed the waistline of her evening gown, her fingers snagging on the heavy sequins of the bodice.
She hated these things.
Thousand-dollar rubber-chicken dinners with a side of lumpy mashed potatoes and a serving of vegetables that presumably grew out of a garden somewhere, yet often looked like they had been grown in the marshy grasslands of northern New Jersey.
Of course, the food was hardly the worst part. It was the obsequious fawning from the crowd, desperate to “get on her calendar” or “plan a lunch” or, worse, invite her to speak at the next one of these events.
How had her life turned into one gala after another?
A row of flashbulbs went off as she mounted the dais at the front of the room.
As she walked toward the podium, the clear screen of the teleprompter offered her a small moment of comfort. Although she could have probably given the speech in her sleep, Montana believed in always having backup.
At least professionally speaking.
Matthew Stone, the celebrity spokesperson for the environmental organization honoring her, held out his hand, a small flirty smile on his face. She took his hand as soon as she was within arm’s length of him, then tilted her head up to place a small peck on his cheek. The action ensured the next round of popping flashbulbs would be tied to at least a half-dozen newspaper stories linking the two of them together in the morning.
The month prior, the borderless, worldwide goodwill organization now honoring her had contacted Grant Shipping. Peace talks had taken a decided turn for the worst between two North African nations, after a pirate attack off the southern coast of the smaller nation. The attack was seen as an act of aggression, and battle had nearly broken out before Grant Shipping stepped in and helped settle the dispute.
Even now, Montana couldn’t understand how it had happened or why anyone thought her interference was worth honoring. While she’d fully believed in offering her help—Grant Shipping’s vast, worldwide resources made it easy enough; her belief in being a citizen of the world made it necessary—the fact that she was being credited with averting war between two countries was a tough one to swallow.
Matt finished his remarks and stepped away from the podium to allow her access.
Another round of camera flashes, coupled with a standing ovation, greeted her as she said hello to the crowd. Montana held her remarks and fought to keep a serene smile pasted across her face. Despite her discomfort—or maybe because of it—the moment seemed to stretch on interminably. And with it, a small kernel of unease whispered up her exposed backbone.
“Thank you. Please—” She held up her hand when the crowd wouldn’t quiet.
Another whisper-light frisson of apprehension followed the last and she focused her gaze, seeking a clearer view of the audience standing before her.
Was someone out there?
Although Montana hated public speaking, it was a part of her job—a part of h
er life—and she accepted it as such. So why did she feel this weird, almost preternatural sense of discomfort?
The clapping slowed and the crowd began to take their seats. Montana took a deep breath, eyeing the clear teleprompter screens that flanked either side of the podium. As she shifted to focus on the screen to her right, her gaze skated oh so briefly across the far end of the ballroom.
And into the dark, dark eyes of a man who embodied every sinful thought she’d ever had.
His frame was draped in the finest-cut tuxedo, clearly custom-made. The black fabric stretched across his shoulders, making them look enormous where he stood at attention against the ballroom wall. She followed the line of the suit, admiring the muscular look of his body and the long legs encased in black silk.
Wow, this guy was a piece of work.
Was he the reason for her unease?
Even as the thought flittered across her mind, she had to admit he didn’t set off any internal warning bells.
Montana did a quick scroll through her mental Rolodex. Who was this guy? And why did she have a vague sense of the familiar, like she should know him, even as she knew with certainty they’d never met? And why was he standing up, looking as if he were guarding something?
She knew she’d never seen him before. That wasn’t a body a woman forgot easily. Add in the thick wavy hair that was a luscious sable brown and the impressively corded neck that looked like a very nice place to grab on to and, well . . .
With a startled glance, Montana saw the videographer standing below the dais wave at her to begin.
Offering another quick thank-you, Montana shifted her focus toward the teleprompter and the opening lines of her speech. The words scrolled as she spoke, the visual a welcome distraction from her thoughts about the large man across the room. Switching to the cadence she reserved for public speaking, she vowed to ignore the mysterious stranger as she extolled the virtues of the organization that had invited her.
