by I. T. Lucas
Brundar chuckled. “Not to me. No one can ever get close enough to grab it. I’d cut them down first.”
Callie nodded even though he couldn’t see her. She understood.
“I love your hair. Not for a single moment did I ever think that it made you look feminine. You’re the manliest man I’ve ever met. Bullies will always find something to taunt other people about, and if there is nothing they can latch on to, they’ll invent something. And I’m not referring to kids only. Adults can be bullies too. Sometimes, those who have nothing they can be proud of, put other people down to feel superior.”
Brundar covered her hand on his shoulder with his. “True words.”
Chapter 32: Kian
The house phone rang, once, twice.
Kian ignored it. After the third ring, someone picked up. Either Syssi or Okidu.
If anyone needed him, they knew to call his cellphone. The Guardians didn’t use the landline, and no one else had his home number except for his mother and sisters.
Alena never called, and on the rare occasion that Amanda and Sari did, they used his cell number. Which left his mother. But he wasn’t expecting a call from her.
It was probably someone in the keep looking for Syssi.
Kian went back to looking over the proposal Shai had summarized for him so he didn’t have to sift through pages upon pages of technical and financial stuff that could be boiled down to a few paragraphs.
Shai had been the one to come up with the idea, and it was a life saver, cutting hours off Kian’s workday. The problem was, he always found more things he could fill them with. Good for their business, but bad for him and Syssi.
The woman was a saint, tolerating his shitty moods and not complaining about having too little time with him.
The phone line went from blinking red to green, and a second later Syssi called using the intercom. “It’s your mother. She wants to talk to you.”
“Thanks.”
Fuck. A call from his mother was never good news. Annani didn’t call to chitchat. She called to issue orders and demand reports. Not often, thank the merciful Fates.
“Hello, Mother.”
“How are you doing, Kian?”
Was he imagining it, or did he detect a note of true concern in her tone? “Busy as usual. I’m in the process of acquiring several new enterprises. Our growth for the last quarter was in the two digits.”
“I did not call to inquire about our holdings. I wanted to know how my son is doing.”
Great. Someone must’ve told Annani that he’d been stressed lately. Suspect numero uno—Amanda. No one would ever suspect a woman who looked like her to have a yenta personality, but she did.
“I’m doing fine, Mother.”
“Fabulous. I want you in a good mood while I am visiting.”
“The village is not ready yet.” Annani was supposed to come for the grand opening ceremony.
“I know, dear, but I need to come because of Phoenix. This little girl should have been turned already.”
A good excuse. But Kian knew it wasn’t the reason his mother was coming.
“Shouldn’t her parents bring her to you?”
“Indeed they should. But Andrew cannot take another long vacation, and Nathalie refuses to come without her husband.”
The door opened quietly, and Syssi walked in. She sat across from his desk and mouthed, “What’s going on?”
“Annani is coming for a visit,” he mouthed back.
Syssi’s eyes brightened, and she did that silent hand clapping to show him she was excited about the news. His wife was probably the only woman in the universe who couldn’t wait to spend time with her mother-in-law. Yet another reason to adore her.
“When should we expect you?” he asked Annani.
“The day after tomorrow. I will notify you when I board the plane.”
“Very well. I’ll send the chopper to pick you up from our landing strip.”
“Thank you. I am looking forward to spending time with you and Syssi and Amanda and her mate.”
“We are looking forward to it too.” Not really, but he was doing his best to sound polite. “Goodbye, Mother.”
Ending the call, Kian put his elbows on his desk and dropped his head into his hands. “As if I don’t have enough to contend with, the last thing I need is my mother visiting. I don’t have time for that.”
Syssi waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. Amanda and I are going to keep her busy. Besides, she will be spending most of her time doting on Phoenix. You know how your mother adores babies.”
“That is the reason she gave for coming. Phoenix needs to turn as soon as possible, but her parents are in no hurry.” He wagged a finger at her. “I blame your brother for that.”
Syssi shrugged. “It’s going to be okay. I for one am happy she is coming. Your mom is so much fun.”
That was part of the problem. Hosting his mother was like hosting a mischievous teenage girl who needed constant supervision, but who he had no control over whatsoever and had to treat like the celebrity prima donna she was.
Kian raked his fingers through his hair. “Where are we even going to put her? Can she stay at Amanda’s again?”
Syssi shook her head. “I don’t think she is going to be comfortable with Dalhu there. Or let me rephrase, I don’t think Dalhu is going to be comfortable with her. She still intimidates the hell out of him.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “Annani can stay with us. We have plenty of room, for her and her Odus.”
“I can send Amanda and Dalhu on a vacation, and she can stay at their place,” Kian suggested.
“Really? Is having your mother over so terrible?”
He sighed. “Normally no. But I’m hanging by a thread, and Annani is not easy to deal with.”
“Was there a time you weren’t stressed? That’s your normal.”
“I’m not always stressed.”
Syssi uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. “Oh, yeah? Give me a recent example.”
“Easy. When we make love, and for about half an hour after.”
She laughed. “Great. So while your mother is here, all we have to do is have plenty of sex to negate the extra stress her company causes you.”
“Aha. But she is going to hear us, and you’re still shy about that.”
“True.” Syssi frowned. “We can’t put her in one of the lower level apartments, she will be offended by that, and we can’t put her in a hotel for the same reason.”
That gave him an idea. “You’re right. We can’t put her anywhere other than our or Amanda’s penthouse without offending her, but we can stay wherever the fuck we want.”
“Like the Four Seasons?”
“Sure.”
She waggled her brows. “The last time we stayed there I had dream sex with you. This time we can have the real thing.”
He still remembered the scent of her arousal that had permeated the presidential suite. “What exactly did you dream?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
The hell she wasn’t. “Tell me!”
Syssi’s lips twitched as she pretended to be upset with him. “Tsk, tsk, Kian. We’ve discussed this before. You’re only allowed to boss me around in the bedroom.”
“No. I’m allowed to boss you around in any sexual situation. Talking about sex qualifies.”
“I could tell you, but I’d rather show you.” Syssi winked.
He was out of his chair before the last word had left her mouth. “Come.” He reached for her hand.
“Not here, silly boy. At the Four Seasons!”
“Fine. Come with me, and I’ll show you my dreams.”
“You dream about me?”
“Every fucking minute of the day.” He pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 33: Brundar
An hour of sitting in Franco’s ugly office was more than enough for Brundar. He could work on the numbers upstairs
while keeping an eye on Calypso. Not in the sense of keeping her safe, the danger was over, but for his own selfish reasons.
He was addicted to her.
Dropping the tablet inside a plastic bag that he’d tied to one of the rungs on his right crutch, he was ready to go. There was no other way for him to carry the damned thing. It was too big for a pocket, and he couldn’t stick it under his arm because that was where the crutches went.
If not for Bridget’s threat to reset his bones without the benefit of anesthesia, which wasn’t an idle one, he would’ve tossed them aside and walked like a man even if it killed him.
Franco should install a goddamned elevator from the basement to the nightclub. Climbing the stairs with crutches was a circus act Brundar was getting tired of.
In fact, he was getting tired of the whole scene. The basement didn’t hold his interest anymore. There was nothing for him down there. The only one he wanted to play with was running around and serving drinks at the surface level, and that was where he wanted to be.
Hence the tablet. Crunching numbers was the one thing that he was still good for.
Brundar shook his head. He’d been transformed from a fighter with a kinky bent to a boring accountant who wanted nothing more than to take his woman home and make love to her.
Yes, make love.
Not have sex, not fuck, not shag, but make love.
Fates, he used to pity Kian for spending his days behind a desk and being so wrapped up in his woman that he could barely function without her.
Was he turning into a version of Kian?
The thing was, it didn’t bother him as much as it should. Brundar had discovered that he liked playing with numbers. He was good at making estimates, profit and loss predictions, and calculating returns on investments. And what’s more, he found it interesting. For centuries he’d watched Kian conduct business, all along thinking that it was an uninspired, boring job.
He’d been wrong.
Now he understood the rush Kian was getting out of the wheeling and dealing. He was one of the top players in a game only the select few were good at.
Brundar was nowhere near Kian’s caliber and would probably never be, but he could play a scaled down game and test his abilities without risking too much.
By the time Brundar reached the top of the stairs, he was winded, and his knees were in agony. Unfortunately, it would be two more hours before he could go home. Calypso’s shift didn’t end until two in the morning, and she was his ride home.
“Brundar.” She ran up to him as he shuffled out of the side corridor and into the club proper. “Are you in pain? You look pale. I mean paler than usual.”
With Calypso, he didn’t feel the need to pretend that a tough guy like him didn’t need relief from pain. She would’ve called him on his bullshit right away. “I could use a few of those pills. Did you bring them?”
“Of course. First, let me find you a place to sit, and then I’ll go get them.”
He nodded, following behind her as she pushed her way in between the many bodies crowding the floor. Friday night was one of the busiest days of the week. The place was packed. Good for business, not so good for Calypso’s prospects of finding him a place to sit. Not a single table was vacant. Maybe she could get him a seat at the bar.
Except, Brundar had forgotten that by law a table had to be reserved for people in his situation. The disabled table happened to be free.
After Calypso had helped him get settled and run off to get his pills, a couple of girls sauntered over with come-hither smiles plastered on their heavily made-up faces. They were eyeing the two vacant chairs at his table, obviously more interested in the seats and maybe a free drink than in him.
He treated them to one of his more severe stares and pushed with a little thrall, convincing them that sitting next to him was a really bad idea. They kept on walking, searching for their next victim.
Calypso got back and handed him the glass of water, then pulled the pill container out of the pocket of her pants. “If you don’t want to be bothered, I can take away these two chairs and add them to another table.”
“Good thinking.” He dropped four pills into his palm, popped them into his mouth and followed with water.
Regrettably, Calypso couldn’t stay long, and Brundar was left all alone at his table with no extra chairs to tempt unwanted company. Pulling out the tablet from the plastic bag, he tried to go over his projections for the month and compare them to what the two clubs actually pulled in. It wasn’t a difficult task to perform, but doing so with the loud music playing and people constantly jostling against his chair and his table was proving difficult if not impossible.
Brundar closed his eyes and slipped into the zone. Nothing disturbed him there. Sounds and visuals faded into the background, leaving only one thing to focus on. On the battlefield, it was usually an opponent with a weapon in his hand, but today it was a tablet with numbers to crunch.
Time went by fast or slowly in the zone, depending on which way Brundar needed to stretch it. He lost track of it, shifting from one spreadsheet to another, writing notes, and making estimates for next month. Things were looking good, and with the additional space they were going to add they would look even better.
“Brundar.” Calypso’s voice reached him from afar.
He closed his eyes again and abandoned his quiet space, his surroundings coming into focus like tunnel vision in reverse. He was expecting a rush of noise, but the music had stopped, the lights were up, and only the staff remained, tidying up and preparing the floor for the cleaning crew.
“Ready to go?” Calypso asked.
“I have been ready for hours.”
She frowned. “Why didn’t you say so? I would’ve taken you home.”
He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “To leave me there and go back to work? I don’t think so.”
“Well, I could’ve asked the boss to let me go early.” She winked. “I’m sure he would’ve okayed it.”
Chapter 34: Roni
“No way. I’m not going to play.” Roni took one of the paper bags out of Sylvia’s hands. Full of refreshments, including beer bottles and cans of ginger ale, they were quite heavy. He couldn’t carry them all, but he could at least appear as if he was helping.
“You don’t have to. But it could be fun. No one expects you to be any good after one hour of practice.”
Yesterday, Roni had guilted Andrew into helping him assemble the drum set, meaning Andrew had done all the work while Roni had sat on a chair and gave instructions.
He’d played for as long as he could, but drumming was physically demanding, and after an hour he’d had to quit and go up to his apartment to lie down.
They stepped into the elevator. “I’m rusty as hell. Besides, I don’t have the energy.”
Sylvia leaned and kissed his cheek. “Then you can just sit and enjoy yourself. I hope.” She grimaced. “I’ve never heard them play. They might be awful.”
That was a possibility, but judging by Jackson’s taste in music a remote one. “If they get gigs in clubs they can’t be too sucky.”
“There is no accounting for taste. People listen to heavy metal and love it, while all I hear are screams.”
They reached the basement level and exited the lift, heading for what Roni had started calling his music room. By the sound of it, the guys had already started jamming.
“Not bad,” Roni said.
Sylvia nodded. “Thank the merciful Fates, I don’t hear any screeching screams.”
As he opened the door for Sylvia and followed her in, the guys stopped playing.
“Sweet set of drums.” The band’s drummer pushed up to his feet and walked over. “I’m Gordon.” He offered his hand.
“Roni.”
The tall, gangly, goth-looking dude leaned his bass guitar against a chair and came over to introduce himself as well. “Vlad.” He offered a pale hand with long fingers. His nails were painted black.
“Ha
ve you been jamming long?” Roni asked as he shook the guy’s hand.
“We’ve just started.” Jackson strummed his guitar. “Want to join us on the drums?”
“Not this time. Today I’m in the audience.”
Tessa walked over and gave Roni a hug. “Come and hang out with Sylvia and me. We will be drinking beer and munching on goodies while the guys play.”
“Right.” He turned to Sylvia who got busy taking things out of the paper bags and arranging them on the table someone had dragged into the room.
“Why didn’t you wait for me to help you?” He hated feeling useless.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it. It’s not like I’m preparing a gourmet meal here. Pretzels, nuts, fruit, beers, and ginger ale.”
“Don’t forget the pastries,” Tessa said.
Sylvia glanced around the room. “Where are they?”
“I’ll get them.” Tessa walked over to where the guys had left their guitar cases, and lifted a big pink box from behind them.
“Did you bring any cheese Danishes?” Roni peeked into the box as Tessa started pulling the pastries out and arranging them on paper plates.
She handed him one. “Freshly baked. We ran out, but I remembered how much you liked them and asked Vlad to make more.”
Roni turned to the band and lifted the half-eaten Danish. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I mean it. No one ever baked anything for me. Not even my mom.”
Vlad smiled shyly. “Enjoy.”
“I will.” He grabbed a can of ginger ale and popped the lid. “I’m in heaven.”
The band started playing again, this time with Jackson singing. The guy had a decent voice, and he and his friends played well. Not bad for teenagers, but they needed someone to write better music for them, and lyrics. Still, Roni had to admit that their performance was surprisingly professional.
