The SUV rocked and a gun roared outside, but she didn’t hear or feel bullets hit anything inside the car, nor did the door open. Perhaps even with the window shattered, the ward held?
A shriek like a demon hunting tore the air.
The gun outside roared again—boom, boom, boom—and went silent as a vast dark body slammed past the SUV and landed. There was a fleshy sound.
“Marcus?” Heck, she could barely hear her voice. “Marcus! Is it you? I can’t see. The lights.”
The truck’s headlights went dark.
“Marcus.” She snicked the safety back on the gun and scrambled out the door, blinking to focus on the griffin that crouched beside the SUV, its lion tail lashing, a man pinned beneath its paws. “Oh Marcus.” She flung her arms around the griffin’s eagle neck.
The griffin shivered, shifted and reformed into Marcus. He hugged her hard against his naked body. “Are you hurt?” he rasped.
“No. I’m safe. I’m good. You saved me.”
He stopped her babble with a searing kiss.
She returned his kiss passionately, not caring that a man sprawled beneath their feet.
“I have to take out the trash.” Marcus broke their kiss, but his hands lingered on her body.
“Okay.” She took a step back to lean against the SUV in case her knees wouldn’t hold her up. “The sooner you do, the sooner we can go.”
He nodded once and frowned down at the man on the ground.
Sadie followed his gaze.
Van man’s shirt and jeans were ripped and bloodstained. As griffin, Marcus had landed hard. The man possibly had internal injuries.
“What do we do with him?” she asked.
“I’ll let Stag deal with Nelson and him. Can you get the phone, please? I need to call them.” He walked off a short distance and returned with the bundle of his clothes. He’d evidently dropped them to attack her attacker.
She slid into the driver’s seat and retrieved the phone from the foot well. She waited till Marcus was dressed and handed it over.
“I thought you’d be safe here alone.”
She heard the guilt and regret in his voice, the pain. “I was. He broke the perimeter ward somehow.”
Marcus grimly supplied the answer. “He used an enchanted grenade, specialist equipment for breaking wards. Expensive but effective.”
She got out of the car to cuddle against him. His free arm instantly wrapped around her. She wasn’t sure which of them needed the physical reassurance the most. “The ward on the SUV held. The SUV rocked with his attempt to break it, so it was a powerful attack, but your ward held. I was safe.”
“So safe that you felt the need to fire your gun,” he observed bleakly.
She held his gaze. “I’m glad I did. I am beyond grateful that you returned in time to…resolve the situation. But I’m glad I didn’t just sit inside the SUV panicking.”
“You defended yourself.” His voice lost some of its hardness as he understood.
“Yes.” She leaned against him as he spoke with Stag headquarters. She waited till he’d ended the brief call. “They’re in the area?”
A small, unamused smile curved his mouth. “They knew I’d bring in Nelson. We have an hour.”
“For what? To wait for them?”
“To get the name of the client who wants your amulet.” Marcus crouched beside the unconscious man. “I did too much damage to this one. He won’t be answering questions for hours. But I have Nelson contained near his den. We’ll drive there.”
Sadie pushed aside her fatigue and dismay. The situation with Nelson and the Stag mercenaries who chased the amulet had to end. It wasn’t till she was in the SUV and buckled into the passenger seat that the consequences of calling in the Stag to collect Nelson and van man hit her. “Will the Stag collection team also want to collect the amulet?”
Marcus set a speed that was just shy of reckless given the darkness and the terrain. “We won’t give them that chance.”
Fierce emotions beat at Marcus as he drove across the rough ground to where he’d left Nelson. At the SUV he’d almost gutted a man in front of Sadie. The griffin form had given him the means of doing so, but he wasn’t sure he could blame its instincts for the killing rage that had gripped him when he’d heard Sadie scream.
Even now fury churned in his blood.
If she hadn’t flung her arms around his griffin neck, he would have gutted his victim. It was her touch, her trust and love, that had pulled him back. She had given him the power to control his rage. She’d asked if the Stag mercenaries coming to collect Nelson would attempt to take her amulet—for everyone’s sake it was safest she and he were away from the scene before they arrived because any threat against Sadie and he’d overreact.
The containment ward he’d set around Nelson held so much magic that when he drove towards where he’d left the wizard, the ward practically flashed neon to his senses. “Do you want to stay in the car?”
“Pardon?”
If he’d been lost in his thoughts, so had Sadie. She jumped when he spoke, then looked all around. Obviously, despite its power, she couldn’t sense the containment ward ahead. She had no idea they were nearly at their destination. “I’ll stay in the car.”
“I won’t be long.” He’d given her the choice, but he was relieved at her decision. He didn’t want Nelson in her life even as a memory. “Nelson is just ahead of us.”
A few seconds later the SUV’s headlights showed Nelson leaning up on an elbow to face them. He’d let go his werewolf form. As a human he was bulky. As a person he was malevolent. His face twisted from a pain-wracked grimace to feral hate as Marcus got out of the SUV and approached the containment ward.
“You intending to finish me off?” Nelson sat up.
“No. Your bosses are sending someone to collect you. I’m here to amend the containment ward. It’ll fray slowly so they can get to you.”
“They mightn’t find that as easy as they think.”
That Nelson was willing to fight, injure, even kill his colleagues didn’t surprise Marcus. “I want the name of the client you thought would back you against my family.”
“The Senator’s dead,” Nelson sneered. “Your precious family name don’t mean squat.”
“How much do your legs hurt?” Marcus asked calmly. This quiet conversation mightn’t seem like a fight, but it was, and he was as calm and controlled, as ready to attack and defend, as he’d ever been in the Arena.
“Torture isn’t your style.” But Nelson’s fingers dug into the dirt. He spat to the side. “You know what, you can have the name. Someone else’ll tell you anyway. Gerald Svenson.”
Marcus waited.
“Let me out,” Nelson said. “Let me out before the bastards arrive.”
“Two broken legs. You won’t get far.”
Nelson panted, a distressingly dog-like behavior in his human form. A whine escaped him. “You know what they’ll do to me. I need freedom.”
“You’ve gone werewolf too often.” Marcus rolled his shoulders, aware that even that slight sympathy was a weakness. “I showed you mercy once before—I let you live—and you hated me for it.”
“I still hate you. But…” Nelson looked up at the sky. A howl tore from his throat.
“This time, it’s not for me to deliver justice.” Marcus walked back to the SUV, ignoring the second howl that was deeper and rougher, signaling that Nelson had turned werewolf again. At the edge of his senses, Marcus was aware of two new magical signatures approaching. Stag headquarters had lied. The agents sent to collect Nelson were closer than they’d said. Marcus got into the SUV. He shredded the edges of the containment ward. It would hold long enough for Sadie and him to depart. After that, Nelson’s fate was in the hands of the agents.
Sadie was huddled in her seat.
He leaned across and touched her hand. “The Stag mercenaries are flying in on a helicopter. They’ll get Nelson medical attention and deliver him to justice.”
; “He sounds like a werewolf.”
And she sounded scared and tired. He couldn’t fix either problem, not here. “We need to go.”
She nodded.
“Are we okay?” It was the most important question he’d asked this night. She’d seen his violence firsthand, not just described to her. If she was scared of him, repulsed, regretting letting him into her life, he’d be crushed.
Her smile was small but incredibly welcome. “We’re good.”
He drove away, back toward Amarillo, while the helicopter flew past them overhead.
Chapter 19
Sadie had expected that when they reached Amarillo they’d book into a hotel and sleep. She’d fallen asleep while Marcus was driving. The events of the last twenty four hours and longer were all catching up with her. As for Marcus, lines bracketed his mouth and his eyes were alert but weary.
“This is the airport.” She stared at him.
“We’re flying to Los Angeles, tonight.”
She barely stifled a groan. “Vanessa can reschedule the meet.”
“I’d rather we got this done.” He carried her bag and his, and kept an arm around her as she stumbled with tiredness. They boarded the plane and collapsed into business class seats. “Go to sleep.”
It was good advice and her eyelids were so heavy. Unfortunately, it meant that when she woke as they came in to land in LA, she was all kinds of grumpy and disoriented. Worse, she felt as whiny as a toddler deprived of her afternoon nap. Since Marcus didn’t look as if he’d gotten any sleep at all, she bit back her sighs and grumbles, and her worry. Stag mercenaries or freelancers incentivized by the bounty offered for the amulet could be lurking.
Marcus moved alertly, his brisk stride discouraging in itself for anyone thinking of stealing the amulet as he collected their bags and headed for the exit.
Sadie was just the tagalong to his purposeful action. It wasn’t till they were in the cab and he’d given the address that she stirred enough to whisper. “Why are we going to Chinatown?” There were places closer to Venice Beach where tomorrow’s—today’s—meet would happen.
“I know a safe place.”
Since the cab driver chose that moment to watch them in the rear view mirror, Sadie subsided. Walking through the airport and the night air outside had woken her up enough that she watched the city pass by. It was late, really late, but it was a Friday night. There was still traffic on the road. Streets with bars and clubs were busy.
In Chinatown, the cab drove down a quiet side street and stopped in front of a substantial mid-twentieth century house. It seemed to extend sideways to the lot next door as well as back, but a high brick wall and the darkness hid the details. There were no lights on.
“Number eight,” the cab driver said.
Marcus paid and the cab drove off. The wrought iron door in the wall swung open. He gestured her in.
Stepping into the narrow courtyard, Sadie realized she was wrong. There was one light on. It shone from a window on the first floor by the front door.
The door opened. A man in his late thirties or early forties stood there. He stood strongly, grounded. He was a little pudgy. His expression was reserved and after a quick glance at Sadie, he focused on Marcus. “I felt a storm of magic coming this way, but you don’t mean trouble.”
“I’m hoping to avoid it. Marcus Aurelius.” Marcus held out his hand.
The man took two steps forward, out of the doorway. “Barzillai Long.” The name didn’t sound Chinese, which appeared to be his ancestry.
“This is Sadie Howard.” Marcus introduced her.
She shook hands.
Barzillai had a firm clasp which didn’t linger. “How long do you wish to stay at Jade Dragon House?”
“Three nights.”
“You are welcome.” He moved aside so that they could enter.
Marcus exhaled, the tension that had ridden him since his final encounter with Nelson finally letting go.
Usually Sadie couldn’t sense magic, but entering the house was a sensory assault. The quality of the air changed from faintly smoggy to cool and clear, scented with jasmine and sandalwood. The sounds of the city vanished. Instead, on the edge of hearing was a trickle of water, perhaps from a fountain. Most of all there was a sense of protection. She didn’t mean to sigh loudly, but relief dragged it out of her. “Thank you.”
Barzillai inclined his head. “One room or two?”
“One, please.” Marcus’s voice was rough, as if, with protection handled by someone else, fatigue clubbed him.
Barzillai led them along a corridor and up a flight of solid wooden stairs. They all moved quietly.
Sadie couldn’t guess how many, if any, people slept behind the three closed doors she saw.
“Your room. Meals between seven and seven. You are alone in this wing, tonight. If you wish to shower, you won’t wake anyone.” He left them in a large room with pale green walls and elegant 1930s furniture.
“Is he saying we smell?” Sadie smiled tiredly, amused.
“I would like to be clean.” Marcus put their bags down near the glamorous dressing table that looked like something from a Hollywood movie. He scrubbed his hands over his face.
Not smelly, not dirty, but tainted by their day. Barzillai was smarter than her. She put a hand on Marcus’s back. “You shower first. I need to decompress for a few minutes anyway.”
He lowered his hands. “You’re tireder than I am.”
She doubted it, but she wouldn’t argue. “I can see a collection of teabags in the corner and a kettle. I think that if we can run a shower this late at night, a kettle won’t wake anyone either.” She took it into the bathroom and filled it before plugging it back in on the small cabinet. “Do you want a tea?”
“No, thanks. I’ll take that shower.” He stripped off his t-shirt as he walked.
She chose a tea mix that promised relaxation and sleep, then took the cup with her to an armchair by the window. Her mind was blissfully blank as she curled up with chamomile- and lavender-scented steam drifting on the air. She’d only drunk a quarter of the tea before Marcus returned. “Better?”
His eyes held a tired smile. “Much.” He bent and kissed her. “Your turn. Unless you’d rather just crawl into bed.” His smile deepened. “You don’t smell.”
“Oh, ha.” She did. Not badly, but fear sweat and a super-long day could cause any deodorant to struggle. “A quick shower and I’ll join you in bed.”
“Sounds good.”
He was asleep when she returned.
She slipped in beside him without waking him and went to sleep with her hand resting on his chest, over his heart.
Waking was a beautiful moment. There was a tranquility inside the small hotel. Sadie woke slowly, aware of Marcus’s warmth and his hand on her hip. His thumb was flirting with the edge of her panties. She’d compromised last night on the whole naked—as he was—or clothed thing, and simply pulled on a t-shirt. It had rumpled up and her belly was bare. She opened her eyes to see him watching her.
His dark eyes were serious and intent, but he smiled easily. “Good morning.”
“What time is it?” She’d washed her hair last night and wrapped it in a towel turban. The towel had vanished somewhere and her hair was all everywhere. She pushed it out of her eyes.
“We’ve missed breakfast, but we should make lunch.”
She smiled. “That’s good. I’m starved.”
“Me, too.”
She sat up. Her movements and his lazy response dragged his hand to her belly, caressing the soft skin. “You should have woken me. I didn’t need to sleep so long.” The clock beside the bed clicked over to eleven a.m.
Marcus didn’t answer, or rather, his caress did. His fingers stroked up under her t-shirt to tease her breasts.
“We could eat and return to bed,” she suggested.
He grinned. “I like the way your mind works, but we probably won’t have time. I’d like to get to Venice Beach early.”
&nbs
p; She sighed, partly because she was over the whole amulet drama and partly, all right, mostly, because his caresses felt so good. “I’ll be giddy when the amulet is Naomi’s problem—but it won’t be a problem, will it?” she added, suddenly worried for her friend.
“Not if your contact brings the containment box.”
“She will.” Sadie leaned over and kissed him. She just couldn’t resist any longer.
He returned her kiss enthusiastically, but his discipline was stronger than hers. “We need to eat. I need to check my phone for messages. Then we’ll hit Venice Beach, hand over the amulet, and we’re free.”
As disappointed as she was that they didn’t have time to make love, he was doing this for her. Plus, she really was hungry. “Free sounds great.” She got out of bed and headed for the bathroom, while Marcus switched on his phone. She heard the chime that meant he had messages. Multiple messages.
Marcus frowned as Sadie vanished into the bathroom, but time was on a countdown and he wanted the trouble with the amulet and whoever was after it dealt with. His frown deepened as he saw the three missed calls from Stag headquarters. Not sure what he’d hear from them, but knowing the message he wanted to deliver, he called them. “Do you have Nelson?”
“Yes, and the freelancer working for him.” The Stag boss wasn’t impressed. “Even with their injuries, those two got into it.”
As far as Marcus was concerned, those two had double-crossed and betrayed each other, but since both were self-centered bastards, each would consider themselves the one with a justifiable grievance. A fight between them was probably inevitable. “I’m sure you got it sorted.”
“We did.” There was a pause before the guy continued in a slightly more formal tone, losing the harassed and disapproving note that was meant to chastise Marcus for his delay in returning his call. “We also have a message for you. The bounty on the amulet has been withdrawn.”
Phoenix Blood (Old School Book 1) Page 18
