by Aliyah Burke
She stepped into the shop and gazed about. Dried herbs and spices lined the numerous shelves. Along the back wall were items she assumed were made to look like some of the original pieces. Lots of little animals, delicately crafted and intricately detailed. Symbols, fans and more.
“This is what you are looking for, yes?” The old woman stood beside her, holding out a disc in her palm.
No. But she held it out as if she wanted her to take it, so Calida did. It was heavier than she’d first thought it would be. While it looked like wood, it had the weight of metal. Inspecting it further, she took in the jagged edges and the markings she couldn’t even begin to make out.
“Hurry, child.” The woman began pushing her to the back of the shop. “You must run.”
“Wait, what?” Okay, that on the table looked like dried scorpions. She shuddered and glanced at the woman who was surprisingly strong, despite her frail appearance.
“Go. They seek it. Give it to no one but him.” The woman opened the door and shoved her through without ceremony.
Calida wasn’t sure what to do. She’d had weird days before but this one just about took the cake. Shoving the disc into her shorts pocket, she reached toward the woman. “Him? Who’s him? And who’s they, for that matter?”
Her eyes flashed and the hair on Calida’s arms stood up. “Run, child.”
The door slammed in her face and Calida shook her head in bewilderment. Pivoting on her heels, she found herself in an alleyway. “Great. Just great.” She turned back and tried the door handle only to find it locked. Readjusting the strap of her pack, she set off toward the other end.
She neared a dumpster and she drew up before rolling her eyes at her own hesitation. Get it together, Calida. We need to get back out to the street and back to the store to return this thing to that woman. I’m sure she didn’t mean to give it to us.
Her pep talk didn’t really help much, and none of it mattered when she heard the door behind her slam open.
“There she is!”
She spun back and swore. Baldy had found her. Fear spiked and she whirled and dashed forward. This was just not her day. Diving through the crowd, she sought a hiding place and soon found herself in another alley. There was no way for her to escape and she crouched behind a rank dumpster, willing her heart to slow down a bit.
“I saw her come down here. You two check over there.”
Shrinking back as much as she could, she chewed on the inside of her cheek as the tension within her grew. Her legs were starting to ache from being so tight as she sat ready to bolt at a second’s notice.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
She jerked her head up to peer above her. Baldy sat on top of the dumpster leering down at her. Shit! She’d not even heard him get up there. She screamed and scrambled off to her right.
Calida hit something hard and would have fallen to the ground if not for the fingers digging into her upper arm. She glanced up again as the one she’d hit thrust her behind him, putting himself in the way of whatever the men wanted. Baldy’s other two accomplices appeared—she could see them as she sat there on the nasty ground of the alley.
“It’s been a while, boy.” Baldy sneered the word as if it were a huge insult.
Apparently they had some history because the one before her sure as hell didn’t look like a boy to her. Not at all. His jeans cupped a firm ass, black cowboy boots covered large feet. I wonder if it’s like they say about men with large feet. The white T-shirt he had on did nothing to hide his powerful arms or wide shoulders. Black hair hung past those very shoulders and she remembered seeing fury on the man’s face. His eyes—intensely hazel eyes—had burned with it.
She inched backwards, determined not to be in the midst of this at all when the fighting began. And she knew, she knew there would be fighting. Men always fought.
“Not long enough,” the stranger, new stranger, said. His voice was deep and oddly comforting.
Comforting? It’s official—I’m insane. No way on God’s green earth should I be thinking of comfort in this situation.
“I thought you were dead.”
The two men behind Baldy took up flank positions. The only way out of the alley now was through them. Or over them. She didn’t possess wings.
Her savior—though perhaps it was too early to label him as such—reached to his back and came away with weapons she’d not even noticed he’d had on his person. And she’d been sitting here facing that part of him. Nope, not thinking savior now. Probably just a man who wanted to take what the others had. She inched back even more, ignoring all the nasty things her hands moved over.
New plan. Hope they kill or maim each other then I can run out of here. She wished she’d taken the two minutes last night to plug in her very dead cell phone. Then I could have called the cops and they could have come and found my dead body.
“You’ve tried killing me before. Oh, that’s right, you like to send others to do your work.” A whip uncoiled from one hand and some sort of blade flashed from the other.
“Lian still have you doing his grunt work?”
The man who’d inserted himself between them stiffened. Lian. Whoever that was held meaning for him.
Calida opened her bag and cursed at herself under her breath. Mace. She had mace in there. I’m an idiot.
“You’re not going to win, you may as well give it up, boy.”
“And you’ve done nothing but talk since I got here, Gravett. You and your two scum.” The blade arched through the air. “Let’s end this, or are you needing more of an advantage?”
The screech that filled the air froze her blood. Baldy, or Gravett, had a wicked grin. “Advantage us.”
Everything attacked at once. One from the air and three from the ground. Calida huddled there, making herself as small as possible. Whatever I’m viewing isn’t possible, it’s just not. If I close my eyes and don’t admit I’m seeing it, will it go away?
White Shirt—his new name since she wasn’t positive he was any better than those who’d chased her—moved with predatory grace as he fought. At times she swore he blended in with the background only to reappear and launch another attack.
His blade slashed through the air, finding its mark, drawing blood and screams each time. The whip tore flesh from bodies. But even so, he didn’t remain unscathed. Calida watched the men cut into him with swords and there was the thing from above. In all her years she’d never seen anything like it.
It looked like a winged demon from some B-movie. Leathery wings with holes in them didn’t deter it from flying wicked fast. Fire flew from its mouth in balls that exploded upon contact.
White Shirt turned his back on the two left on the ground and sent his whip sailing up—it wrapped around the neck of the flying creature. With a powerful jerk, it plummeted toward him where he pierced it on his sword. The dying screech rattled the buildings around them.
Lightning sparked around the four as White Shirt turned back to the ones remaining. They redoubled their efforts, working together and hitting him in vulnerable places. One more fell so it was only Gravett left. He peered around White Shirt and focused on her.
“I’ll be seeing you again.”
Then he was gone. Just like that. No walking, no nothing. Just…gone.
White Shirt pivoted to face her and she swallowed hard. Blood stained his body, turning the shirt more red than anything. Sweat plastered his hair to his head and he took a few steps toward her.
Calida curved her hand around the mace and slowly pushed to her feet. Surely she could make it past him. He wasn’t doing so hot. Ever so slowly, she made her way to him.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Obviously his injuries haven’t affected his misguided sense of humor. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
She glanced to the left where she’d seen the winged thing fall only to find nothing was there. Great, now she had truly lost it. Couldn’t even trust her own eyes. Then again, having seen what I think I did,
do I want to trust them?
“They will be back.”
Shouldering her pack, she kept the canister of mace hidden. “I won’t be here when they do. You might not want to be either.” She tried to edge her way around him but he continually blocked her.
“We need to go.”
“So get out of my way and I’ll do just that.” Her heart pounded hard as she stared at him. His angular face would never be called pretty. His was too harsh for that. More of that insane behavior hit her. She wanted to touch his face and offer comfort.
“I can’t let you go.” He stumbled and wove.
“I wasn’t going with them and I’m not going with you.” With no warning she lifted her can of mace and sprayed. He yowled in pain and she hit him in the head with the can when the spray ended. Then she bolted.
At the end of the alley, she turned back at the sound of another scream identical to the one that fire-breathing creature had. A ball of flame hit White Shirt, launching him back into the building’s wall where he slumped. The being rose, wings flapping, and she knew it would be back for another attack. From the looks of things, he couldn’t take any more.
She dug through her bag again and found something helpful. Could have used this earlier. Her Taser in hand, she ran back down toward him and waited for the thing to get within range. So focused on the man, it didn’t see her. She pressed the trigger and hit him with fifty-thousand volts. It fell from the sky and landed hard.
“Take that, bastard,” she said, pressing it again.
She wanted to run away but instead knelt by the man. His eyelids were shut and she reached out to touch his shoulder.
“I hope I’m not going to regret this. Come on, I’ve got a place you can clean up.”
Chapter Two
Tiarnán woke with a start. Darkness had fallen outside and he hadn’t a clue where he was. His shoulder burned like a bitch and he began to sit up. He could make out flowers on the bedspread that covered him and across the end of the bed lay something pink and silky.
Quiet music filtered in the doorway, past the door that wasn’t quite shut. Glancing down at his chest, he noticed his shirt was gone. Jeans were still there. He swung his feet to the floor and gingerly stood.
Still wobbly. He could feel the poison from that damned creature moving through him. The scratches on his left shoulder throbbed and he knew he had to get them cleaned out. He left and found a softly lit room before him.
Off to the left he could see someone moving, another step forward and he knew it was the woman from the alley. He thought he’d dreamed her coming back to him. After she’d sprayed him, then hit him with the can of Mace, he’d been temporary blinded and he couldn’t quite get out of the way of the fireball that had knocked him on his ass.
She shifted about the small kitchen, humming softly to the music that played from a small clock radio on the counter. “You’re up.”
He tilted his head to the side, unsure about the feeling her voice brought him. Soothing. “You saved me.”
“I may have affected your ability to fight that flying leathery thing. I felt bad.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not bad enough not to zap your ass if you try anything.”
“You maced me.” He shook his head. “Then threw the canister at me.”
“I would have Tased you if I’d remembered earlier it was in my bag. That’s what I did to the flying saddlebag.”
He smiled briefly at her analogy. “Thank you.”
“You saved me from Baldy and his crew. So, I guess we’re kind of even. But given how much you were bleeding, I figure I owe you some food as well. It’ll be ready in a few minutes. The bathroom is over there, and there are some other shirts in there which may fit you. Sorry but I had to cut that one off you.”
He went to the bathroom and cleaned up a bit more. She’d done a good job and they were mostly healed. Frowning, he went back out. Normally it took him a good twenty-four hours to heal, unless he had Cale’s assistance.
“How long have I been here?”
“Over a day. You’ve been asleep most of the time.” A shrug. “I was beginning to get worried.”
“You let me stay here all this time?” No one other than those few he considered family would have done such a thing for him.
“You’re not that easy to move. Besides, like I said. I kind of owed you.” She flipped two things from a pan onto a plate. “I hope you like grilled cheese. I haven’t had a chance to go shopping and I wasn’t sure about leaving you alone when you were out.”
The small, rickety table had two chairs and she put a plate before each. The smell of grilled cheese and fries hit him. He lowered himself gingerly, unsure totally if the chair would hold his weight. It did and he watched her sit across from him.
Her skin reminded him of melted brown sugar. Smooth. And he wanted to touch it. He skimmed over her features—full lips, somewhat flat nose, high cheekbones and a mass of wavy black hair that sat piled up on her head. Hair he wanted to touch to see how soft and silky it was.
What’s wrong with me?
“Can I ask you something?” she asked around a bite of her sandwich.
“Yes.”
“What’s your name?”
Damn, he’d forgotten they’d not exchanged names. “Tiarnán. Tiarnán Malone.”
“Tiarnán,” she mimicked. “I’m Calida Michaels.”
Calida. Lovely name. “Thank you for saving me, Calida.”
She stared at him and ate a fry. “So can you tell me what all that was about?”
“Why were they after you?”
“I don’t know.”
Her response came so quickly he knew she told the truth. His problem was he didn’t know how much to tell her. He really had to get going and make his way to Mrs. Chen. The pain in his shoulder throbbed even more and he scowled. He wasn’t even sure where he was now, in regards to her place by the theater. Towns changed a lot in over a decade.
“I’ll clean it out again after you eat. I’ve been using peroxide. Shit bubbles like a mother but I figure if there’s anything bad in there, it’s going to help move it to the top. I could go get some iodine now that you’re awake.”
“I need to get my truck.”
“Do you remember where you parked it?”
“At the corner of Bay and Fourth. In that lot.”
“You could take a taxi or we can walk. I don’t own a car, so I can’t drive you myself.”
“No car?”
“Never had the need for one. I walk everywhere I need.” She pursed her lips. “Or bike. Sometimes I ride my bike, but I love walking.”
He understood that, it was his preference as well. Long walks. “How long of a walk from here?”
“Fifteen to twenty minutes.”
“We can do that first then I’ll take you shopping and bring you back here.” He wasn’t ready to leave her.
“Okay. But you’re going to have to put a shirt on. Unless you want people asking about the bandages.”
He dressed after she’d cleaned his wounds again. When he came out of her bedroom, she was sitting on her love seat and had her head in the bag. He remembered it as the one she’d been carrying when he’d first seen her. Right now, she had a lot of things laid out on the cracked glass-top coffee table.
Leaning against the wall, he watched her. A thick curl fell forward and as he stood there, she brushed it back five times only to have it fall again. She didn’t stop to clip it up, just continued to move it with her fingers. As she repacked her bag he saw it. Or rather them.
Flames. Little pinpricks of dancing flames streamed along her wealth of hair that she’d unpinned after their meal. Goosebumps exploded along his arms. Was she a mate to a Guardian? Perhaps she was for Edmond. It would explain why Gravett and his minions were after her. If they’d seen this they would have wanted to snap her up and eliminate her. None of it explained why the thought of her and Edmond had him growling low in his chest, much like the creature he bore would do when agitated.
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Tearing his gaze from her, he looked at his crossed arms and paused when he saw the identical pinpricks dancing along his skin. No way. As he stared, they all gathered on his shoulder, which had been torn open by the demon, and he could feel the healing power sink into him. Mending. Fixing. Repairing. Bonding.
“Lian?”
“Yes?”
“I am sorry to disturb you. Little fire pinpricks which healed an injury caused by a winged demon.”
“You met a winged demon? How is Mrs. Chen?”
“I have not seen her yet. Gravett and two of his things were after a woman. I stepped in.”
“And the pinpricks began?”
“No. The winged thing appeared and clawed me. She has been keeping it clean. I just now saw these flames. They are on her hair as well.”
“The answer is right in front of you if you choose to see it. Find Mrs. Chen as fast as possible.”
“More riddles, old man? One day you will tell me straight.”
“The sooner you accept that which you already know to be true, the faster you won’t argue my riddles.”
The connection ended, and he blew out a frustrated breath. Lian never had given him a straight answer. Not in the fourteen years they’d known one another—he preferred the riddles or philosophical questions and statements.
The answer was right in front of him. He stared forward and found Calida. She was pulling the drawstring on her pack and folding down the top.
“Ready.” She stood and past her he saw a pillow and blanket folded up. She’d slept there last night while he’d occupied her bed.
“Let’s go.”
He followed her to the door and reached out to her hair as she opened it. The flames moved from him to her, flawlessly. Seamlessly. Shit! He dropped his arm as if it burned. The sensation nearly overwhelmed him. He wasn’t sure how to handle the raw and unchecked emotions that flowed through him. Lian was right—it was right before him. She was his mate.
