His smile was cynical “In that case you’re lucky you have me to suspect them for you. Now make the damn list.”
As much as I loathed doing it, I grabbed a notepad and began to jot down names. Murdoch was the best investigative officer, and if anyone could figure out who’d ordered the hit on me, it would be him.
Let’s just hope I lived long enough for him to find out.
10
The Shaitan Enterprises lobby was buzzing with activity. People flitted to and fro, lifts pinged open and slid shut—the entertainment industry was booming. Whereas Brahma Corp specialized in technological advancement, Shaitan Enterprises focused on anything with entertainment value: cinemas, television, radio, theatre, and music. You name it and Shaitan Enterprises had their fingers all over it. The reception desk was attached to a set of barriers that stopped unauthorized access to the lifts to the left and right of it. Behind the desk was an open seating area, and beyond that, two golden lifts, sans call button. Those were the lifts I’d spilled out of after my penthouse stay. They must be access panel only, for private use by the residents of the building—Vritra and his asura.
A man strutted out of a lift to my left, tall and lithe and oh my god, I knew that face. He’d been plastered all over the silver screen for the past two years. Michael Lion was Midas when it came to the film industry. Every movie he starred in was a blockbuster, and it looked like he was agented by Shaitan Enterprises.
Nice.
He walked past without even giving me a second look. Now normally I’d be offended, but this guy was into guys, so if he had ogled I’d have been worried. The receptionist was tapping away furiously at her keyboard.
I leaned against the desk. “Hi.”
She stopped typing and looked up with a sunny smile. “How can I help you today?”
Well that was perky. “I have an appointment with Vritra.”
She blinked at me. “You mean Mr. Ajagar.”
Was that his surname? “Yeah, we can go with that.”
“And your name?”
“Carmella Hunter.”
She scanned her screen. “I’m sorry. I can’t see you in his diary.”
Crap. He probably hadn’t put the meeting in the diary. “Look, it’s not that kind of meeting. He asked me to come and train with him.”
She arched a brow. “Mr. Ajagar asked you to train with him? Train doing what?”
Okay, I got it. She was just doing her job. I’d be just as skeptical in her shoes if some woman strolled in and claimed she had a training session with the CEO of the company.
“Can you please just call up and let him know I’m here?”
She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry but Mr. Ajagar’s diary is marked as unavailable for the evening.”
Passersby were staring at me now.
“Yes, because he’s supposed to be training me.” This was getting me nowhere. “You know what, forget it. I’ll call him myself.” Pulling my phone from my pocket I dialed Vritra. It rang once and he answered.
“Carmella. Where are you?”
“In the lobby but you seem to have forgotten to add our appointment to your diary.”
He cursed. “Wait there.”
The receptionist was watching me closely. Probably thought I was faking the call. A minute passed and then another. The receptionist arched a brow. Hurry up Vritra.
The golden lifts opened and Vritra strode out. He was dressed for sparing: yoga pants, a vest, and slippers that could be shucked off easily for the mat.
The receptionist followed my gaze, her back straightened, and she opened her mouth to speak, probably to apologize.
“It’s fine Fanny.” Vritra said. “Not your fault. I should have called down to let you know Miss Hunter would be meeting me. I’ll be adding her to unrestricted personnel shortly so she’ll have an access card to the private lifts.”
Fanny nodded. “Yes, Mr. Ajagar.”
Vritra waved me over. And with a reassuring smile at the receptionist to show no hard feelings, I followed.
He pressed his palm to the panel by the lift, It opened and we stepped inside.
“You’re hardly dressed for sparing,” he said.
The doors slid shut.
“I didn’t realize we’d be sparing. I thought you were going to train me in controlling the power inside me.”
“And sparing is essential to the training.”
“Well, you could have said.”
“I believe I told you we’d be having a little one-on-one.”
The doors opened into a huge room laid out with mats and ropes and all kinds of obstacle-like equipment. A crowd of males and females were gathered in the center of the room, cheering and calling out encouragement.
I looked up at Vritra. “What’s going on?”
“A sparing match. Come.” He strode forward, and as if sensing his presence, the crowed parted to reveal the two fighters on the mats in the center.
I didn’t recognize the man, but the woman was all too familiar. Henna flipped the guy and then made to punch him in the throat, stopping short a hairbreadth from his Adam’s apple. The crowd whooped.
“How many is that?” A woman to my right said.
“Five out of five,” someone replied.
Henna straightened, a playful grin plastered on her face. She caught sight of Vritra and stood straighter, and then her gaze fell to me, and her grin dropped. The guy she’d beaten leaped up and slapped her on the back.
“One more. Come on. I know I can beat you.”
Henna shrugged him off, jerking her head in our direction. The room went silent as everyone turned to look at me.
Great. Welcome to the freak show people.
And then the guy on the mats threw up his hands. “Fine I’ll go first shall I? Hey, my name is Kiran and you were fucking awesome in the video.”
The other asuras all began speaking at once. Vritra held up his hands. “Enough. Go get cleaned up. You can speak to Miss Hunter in a couple of hours at supper.”
The asura filed out, but Henna lingered.
“Did you want something?” Vritra asked her.
She looked to me then back to Vritra. “Nah, I’ll catch you laters.” She sauntered out.
“Well, that was … interesting.”
He shrugged. “They’re young and eager. The newest generation of asura. Not all of us slumbered; many opted to live in the mortal world and raise families. These are their children, more human than asura. This place is their home now, where they can learn about their heritage and their power. You’re kind of a celebrity. The only asura in history, aside from me, who can shift into a dragon, so be prepared for questions.”
“So they’re all actually as young as they look?”
He nodded.
“Even Henna?”
“Henna was born on the celestial plains. She slumbered with rest of the gods, so she hasn’t aged mentally or physically.”
“The rest of the gods? Didn’t you slumber?”
He offered me a crooked smile. “No.”
“So what did you do? I mean, I didn’t know you existed until a few years ago.”
“I traveled.” He began dragging more mats together to make a larger sparing surface. “The mortal realm is filled with wonders and I wished to see them all, from the pyramids to the hanging gardens. I lived in poverty and I dined with kings. It was … educational.” He stood back to survey his handy work.
“So what now?”
“Now we see how your dragon responds to threat. We put your power through its paces and give you the opportunity to connect and control it.”
“Okay, so where is the threat?”
He gave me a shiver-worthy sadistic smile. “You’re looking at him.”
And then Vritra’s power slammed into me, knocking the breath from my lungs as it smashed right into my solar plexus. I doubled over, gasping for air. And he hit me again. What the fuck? The power inside me stirred, sitting up to take notice.
Defend dammit. Come on! Why was nothing happening?
“Come on Miss Hunter. Defend yourself.”
“I’m trying.”
He slapped me with his aura—a taunting strike that had my hackles rising. Fuck this. Come on, dammit. Help me.
The dragon slid out of the box, testing the air. Power leaked out of me, rising off my skin. And when Vritra struck again my power countered.
Yes!
Wait.
What was it doing? Not attacking but caressing … rubbing.
Vritra’s sharp intake of breath had my cheeks heating.
“No. Stop. Make it stop.”
Vritra tried to pull back, but the essence of my dragon wasn’t having any of it. She clung on, wrapping herself around his power, her sinuous body writhing against him. The shockwaves traveled back to wash over me, lighting up every nerve and synapse, sending messages of throbbing heat to my core. Oh god, this was indecent and blatant and … so fucking good.
Vritra groaned low in his chest. His gaze locked with mine, eyes dark with desire, and then he was striding toward me. Running would be wise. Running was a good plan, but it wasn’t what my body wanted. It needed to touch him and have him touch me, not just with his power but with his hands and mouth and tongue. His huge frame cast me in shadow and then his hand twined in my hair, fisting it and yanking my head back. He claimed my mouth, desperate and out of control—teeth clashing, tongue on tongue desperate. We went down, slamming into the mats. Yes, yes I wanted this, needed this. To feel him between my thighs, hard and ready and oh, fuck yes, move like that. Dammit, too many clothes in between the hardness and the wetness. The taste of his skin—sweet, fresh, cinnamon—it wasn’t enough, not near enough. Not until he was inside me—deep inside. Rough calloused hands skated up my shirt. My hand slid down his pants to find his silken, huge, hardness.
“Carmella,” he moaned into my mouth.
My groin throbbed and heat pooled at my crotch. This dangerous, dynamic man was in my power. Mine …
“Ahem!”
The power, twisting and writhing above us, froze. Hearts beating rapidly, we stared into each other’s eyes. Shock, awe, and longing swept across his face. Vritra pressed his forehead to mine, and then hauled his massive body off me.
Henna stood, arms crossed, brow arched. “Well, this is a new kind of training.”
My power seeped back into me, settling back to sleep, done playing. I rolled to my feet and patted down my hair. The taste on him was in my mouth, his scent in my nose. Our power was no longer active and yet my blood was still galloping through my veins.
Vritra stood with his back to me, hands on hips. His shoulders rose and fell erratically.
“Maybe Miss Hunter needs a slightly more impartial trainer,” Henna suggested.
“Take her to supper and then see her out.” Vritra’s voice was hoarse and unsteady. He didn’t turn to look at me, but strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Well, that was nice.
Henna snorted. “Oh, don’t look so dejected. It’s a compliment that he left. It means he wants you real bad, but respects you enough not to fuck you right here. Although, if I hadn’t come in, I’m sure you’d have coerced him into it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your hand down my father’s pants.” She shrugged. “Not really what a girl wants to see but …”
How the heck had we gone from sparing to … that? “Yeah, that. Totally not planned and super impulsive. I don’t know what happened. We were sparing and then my power … it went all weird.”
She smiled, and for the first time since I’d met her there was no malice in her expression. “Your dragon feels safe with my father’s. She knows he means her no harm and so sparing with him is pointless. If you want to master your power, you need someone your dragon doesn’t trust.”
“Like you?”
This time her smile was decidedly wicked. “Yeah, like me. So what do you say? Wanna go a few rounds?”
She stepped onto the mats and began to circle me.
The dragon inside stirred. “Why not. Looks like my dragon isn’t averse to kicking your arse.”
She hit me, not with her asura power, but with her hand. It smashed into the side of my face and sent me flying. Oh wow, that fucking hurt. Molten rage shot through my limbs, the pain vanished, and my dragon exploded out of its box, sending a wave of heat shooting toward Henna.
Henna leaped out the way, rolling and coming to her feet. “That’s more like it. Again.”
She attacked and my dragon answered.
_____
I gave my busted lip a final dab and winced as it tingled and healed up. Damn Henna and her cat like reflexes. The punch had rocked my world, and not in a nice way. The training mat was speckled with my blood. My lip had obviously been going for some kind of world record in bleeding out.
“So, your dragon is intuitive to your needs? She acts on your behalf?” Henna asked.
We were sitting on the benches at the back of the room, hydrating with bottles of water taken from the ice bucket behind us. Henna was fast and powerful, but my dragon was better. After the first violent attack, my power had realized that, although not a real threat, Henna was still willing to hurt me. And after being knocked off her feet for the fifth time, and managing to get in a sharp jab to my face, Henna had called time.
I swigged. “Yeah, it’s weird, because with the armor skin my dragon knew I wasn’t ready to let it go even before I did.”
“So you are connected, but not on a conscious level.”
“I’m worried we may never be. She was cut off for so long. Maybe this is how it will be from now on.”
“Is that so bad?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Henna played with the lid of her water bottle. “Do you have feelings for my dad?”
Oh … wow. How could I tell her that her dad was a suspect in my attempted murder? How could I, when my gut was telling me it couldn’t possibly be true? If he wanted me dead, why train me? If he wanted me dead, why would my dragon trust him?
“So many feelings, but probably not the ones you mean.”
“You looked like you were enjoying his attentions.”
I blew out a breath. “I’m not always myself when I’m around your father.”
“Maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s your dragon that has the feelings.”
My dragon … It made sense. My dragon power hadn’t wanted to fight him. Instead she’d wanted to … “Oh, man.” I buried my head in my hands.
Henna chuckled. “Come on, let’s get you some food. The other asura are dying to cross examine you about your power. For most of us, strength and agility is all we get.”
“So you don’t have the kernel inside you?”
“Kernel?” Her brow crinkled. “Oh, you mean the reservoir?”
“Is that what it feels like for you? Maybe it’s different for everyone.”
She smiled wryly. “No, Carmella. It’s different for you, because of who you are and what you are.” She sighed. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re special.”
“So … you don’t want to kill me any longer?”
She let out a bark of laughter. “No. Not any longer.” She screwed the lid back onto her bottle and stood.
“Henna, why did you try to kill me?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s a long, sorry tale. Not one for tonight, but maybe I’ll tell you some day.” She turned her head and her lips curled in a sly smile. “Or maybe I’ll change my mind and kill you just for fun.” She jumped up and headed for the door. “Come on, the family is waiting.”
Yeah, I preferred her when she’d been all malice. This sweet, sharing version of Henna was just creepy. Downing my water, I capped the bottle and followed.
Time to meet the rest of the family.
11
We took the lift down a floor.
“The young asuras’ pad,” Henna explained as we stroll
ed down a corridor past several doors. “Suites. We take care of our own. Vritra is compulsive about keeping the old ways. A time when asura trained and fought battles together. He’s all about unity and family.”
The corridor opened up into a complex—a huge sprawling design with cinema room, pool, and communal lounge. But it was the kitchen Henna led me to. A table large enough to seat at least twenty was surrounded by asura stuffing their faces from a buffet-style spread.
My entrance killed the buzz of conversation and attracted every eye.
Henna tutted. “Enough with the staring. She can shift into a dragon, get over it.”
Kiran waved me over. “Come sit with me.”
Hmmm. A bit difficult when there were no vacant seats on his side of the table. “Where? On your lap?”
The guy beside him choked on his food.
Kiran’s handsome face split in a grin, and he casually pushed the choking guy off his seat. “There you go.”
The guy on the floor jumped up, punched Kiran’s shoulder, and reclaimed his spot.
Henna shook her head and glanced at me. “Children, the lot of them.”
“Hey, you’re the same age as us!” A female asura with a cute bob said.
Henna’s lip curled. “No, Gita, I’m not. We age differently on the celestial plains. In celestial years I’m fucking ancient. Not to mention hotter than the lot of you put together.”
Gita made a gagging nose.
“Ancient Henna with a stick up her arse,” the guy seated in front of us muttered.
Henna’s hand whipped out to smack him upside the head.
His drink sloshed everywhere and laughter rippled across the table.
Gita gave Henna a mock bow. “Thank you ancient one for deigning to hang out with us, not like the other ancients up at the top of the building who think we’re tainted.”
Kiran puffed out his chest and put on a booming voice “Do better, Kiran, make me proud Kiran.”
“Why are you crying Kiran?” Henna mimicked the booming voice Kiran was putting on. “Stop getting your arse kicked by a girl, Kiran.”
Defying Magick: an Urban Fantasy Novel (The Witch Blood Chronicles Book 2) Page 7
