“Yes, you—” She turned as Rohan entered.
Zayn smirked. “Hey, bro, the scrapyard junk finally got you here, huh?”
“My Ferrari needed gas, dumbass. It’s the only reason you’re here first.”
Saia snorted at their childish wars. Rohan bumped Zayn out of the way, picked her up, and took his turn spinning her around.
Her stomach churned. The coffee she’d drunk backtracked up her throat in a bid for freedom. She groaned and clutched his biceps. “Put me down, you big lug, or I’m going to puke on you.”
Smiling, Rohan kissed her cheek. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d finally say yes.”
Riley walked into the room and made his way to her, bringing the cool outside air with him. “Need rescuing?”
She let out a wry laugh as Rohan lowered her. “Nah, I’m okay.”
“Riley, just so you know—” Rohan broke off, glanced at the breakfast table, and snorted. “Really? She’s not his type. She reads.”
Zayn had parked himself beside Ikaria in full-on charm mode. He flipped through the book she’d left beside her coffee. Asked questions about Jane Eyre, as if well-versed in the classics when the cereal box at breakfast barely held his attention.
Saia sighed. “Save him before he embarrasses himself.”
“Let him.” Rohan smirked, poured his coffee, and strolled off to join Noah.
Saia picked up a muffin from the platter, broke off a piece, and popped it in her mouth then pivoted to Riley. “What do you want to talk about?”
“When you’re done with breakfast.”
That didn’t sound good. She dropped the muffin on the plate. “I’m not really hungry, I’ll get something later. What is it?”
“Come on.” He led her toward the stairs that led to the gymnasium beneath the garage. Moments later, he flipped the switch. Bright, recessed lights flooded the area equipped with the heavy artillery her brothers couldn’t do without.
She lifted a curious brow. “Why are we here?”
At his serious look, she gave him a dubious one and really hoped this had nothing to do with a workout. Sure, she liked to run, but exercise? Ack, the only reason she even tortured herself with the jogging was so she wouldn’t pile on the weight, and it helped her think.
“Saia, I don’t want another incident like what happened in Stygia to reoccur. Being mated to me, chances are, it will.”
“I’m aware of the dangers, Riley.”
“I know you are, but I need for you to be able to better defend yourself, become faster.”
She eyed him skeptically. “Defend? Yes, probably. But faster—me? I’m human.”
“Yeah. Mine. And I protect what’s mine.” He gave her one of his sexy smirks. “Go, get changed, and let’s get started.”
“Go on, defeat the defenseless with that mind-numbing smile,” she complained.
He laughed and smacked her lightly on bottom. “Go. Stop wasting time.”
Shooting him an aggrieved look, Saia headed for the changing room.
What felt like hours later, her chest heaving from the exertion, Saia glowered at Riley with the weights machine between them. Beads of perspiration trickled between her breasts. She wanted to call it quits. He refused. Insisted she finish the time he’d allocated.
One and a half hours of sheer torture.
First the weights, then the treadmill, and now fight moves? The tyrant!
Hands on his hips, he stared at her from the exercise mats where he waited. He’d traded his jeans and shirt for sweats and a tee. The fact that he appeared cool, unruffled, and not in the least bit sweaty while he worked the crap out of her, annoyed her more.
“This is not learning to defend myself,” she huffed. “It’s just some form of torture dreamed up by your sadistic mind for whatever sin you think I’ve committed.”
He ran his fingers over his buzzed hair and exhaled roughly. “Saia, I realize this is tough, but I can’t go easy on you, I need for you to learn fast. I have enemies out there.”
“I do know how to protect myself.” She blew a stray strand that had escaped her braid and gave him the evil eye. “I grew up with Nazi brothers, who took delight in landing me on my butt, all in the name of ‘learning to defend myself.’ I don’t need their leader—” She sneered the word. “To show me how—”
He flashed.
“Eeek!” She darted among the weights and benches and dashed back to the training mats when he grabbed her from behind in a chokehold.
“This,” he growled in her ear, “is their favorite maneuver. And this—” he spun her around, his mouth against hers “—is how they’d take over your body.”
The memories of what the Caligo had nearly done to her had panic bursting free. In pure survival mode, she bit his lip, pulled back her knee, and slammed him in the groin—or attempted to. He flipped her, already anticipating her move. She landed hard on the dark blue mat, the air expelling from her lungs.
Damn, the man didn’t go easy on her.
“I know that strategy of yours—experienced it already,” he muttered, staring down at her and licking his bleeding lip. “But it will do. If you miss, the Caligo will consume and take over. Become exactly what you are while draining you dry of all human emotions until there is nothing left. Only then will it leave to seek another host.”
Christ, did he enjoy scaring her? Reminding her of how close she’d come to dying?
He held out his hand. She ignored him and stared at the ceiling. If she got up, he’d make her continue. So she just lay there.
Concern furrowed his brows. “Are you all right?”
All right? Every part of her body ached like she’d been put in a wringer. Oh wait, she had, by a hulking block of muscles.
“Ask me when I stop hurting,” she grumbled. “I think you’ve broken me.”
“Broken?” His brow lifted, then his gaze went into a slow burn. “Later, I promise to kiss every abused inch and make it all better.”
Her breathing hitched. She knew how good he was at using his mouth.
“C’mon.”
With a sigh, she took his hand, and he drew her to her feet. “I guess that will do for now as a start to your training.”
“Training?” She snorted. “It would have probably hurt less if I was the punching bag.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “That was just the warm up, but you can always say no. Then my rule comes into effect.”
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place that I had a choice—wait, what rule?” she demanded.
“You cannot go anywhere without one of your brothers or me.”
“Oh, bliss.” She rolled her eyes. “Have annoying babysitters on my back twenty-four-seven or have my body used as a punching bag?” She lifted her hands and balanced them like scales. Wrinkled her nose and dropped her left. “Thanks, I’ll stick with being pounded.”
“It will get rougher, Saia,” he warned, his tone grim. “Those entities will do anything to take over your body, there is no coming back from that.”
“I know.” She stepped away from him, picked up her hoodie from the floor, and winced as she straightened. The cell she’d tossed on the workout bench earlier rang. She stumbled over, picked up her phone, and answered as she flopped down.
“I spoke to Father James.” Her mother got straight to the point. “He’s agreed to forgo the prenuptial classes and has a date the weekend after New Years for the wedding. It’s booked.”
Saia’s fingers tightened around her cell. “Mother, you know what I want.”
“It’s winter, Saia. I can hardly see you marrying outdoors just to have your garden wedding.” She rang off.
This could only mean one thing; Mother thought she’d call off the wedding. That was true, because she generally did the opposite of what her mother asked.
Dammit! So this was her master plan all along? Tossing her phone beside her, she punched the seat in frustration.
“What’s wrong?” Riley crouche
d in front of her.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
She flexed her sore knuckles. “I told you Mother wouldn’t let this go.”
“What did she say?” he asked, taking her hands and gently rubbing her aching fingers.
“She wants a church wedding—next week.”
His expression became thoughtful. “Yeah…that won’t work.”
“What?”
“Saia, have you forgotten what I am?”
She blinked, confused. “I know what you are, Riley—oh, right. I didn’t think about that...” Her mood brightened. There was no need for any wedding, she realized. “You said we’re bonded, so marriage wouldn’t really matter, right?”
“And have your mother accuse me of living in sin with her daughter? I don’t think so. Besides, I clearly recall someone saying ‘only a wedding ring counts?’”
She scrunched her nose at his smirk, her face heating at how he’d torturously drawn out her admission of wanting him. “Yes, well, that was before I knew you really wanted me or that you cared.”
“Cared?” His smile died. “That is such an insipid word for what I feel, Saia. Before you, I merely existed. Then, like a gale, you stormed into my life, tossed out every rule I lived by, and calmly took over every space in my heart—you are my life—don’t you get that?”
Floored by his words, she lunged for him, her momentum landing him on his butt. His arms came around her as she buried her face in his neck. God, she loved him—she had to try one more time. Easing back on her knees, she met his tender gaze. “Riley, please go back to Stygia. I’ll be here when it’s all over.”
Like the flick of a switch, the tenderness vanished. He let her go and rose. Eyes hard now. “Don’t even think of some idiotic plan to save me. I’m not leaving.”
She pushed to her feet. “Christ, Riley, you’re more stubborn than my mother.”
Dark amusement. “Now I feel insulted.”
She really didn’t want to go back to Stygia, but she was so afraid for him. With his life on the line, Saia realized then that she’d walk into Hell if she had to. “All right, I’ll come with you.”
He shook his head. “No. During the transference I’ll be contained, you’ll be alone. There are demons who would still come after you, I won’t take that chance. Here, at least, I know you’ll be safe with your family if I’m not around.”
She blew out a frustrated breath and accepted his decision. “Okay. But the moment the transference starts, you’ll tell me?”
“Stop worrying, Saia. There is time—”
“Darn, it, Riley, stop telling me to stop worrying! If I was the one in danger and could die, what would you do?”
He stilled, his expression morphing into one so deadly, Saia instantly wished she could recant her words. “That will never happen. Anyone even thinks of touching you, and blood will flow,”—of that she had little doubt—“I will wreak havoc on any world to get you back.”
“Then?” She glared, point made.
“I am immortal, sweetheart. The odds of me surviving are better.”
Gah! He had to point that out. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to wreak havoc on the scale he could—heck on any scale—but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t do everything in her power to make sure he was safe.
He ran his fingers over his buzzed hair. Frowned. “I have to get to the bar, I’ll see you later.”
He cupped her face in his big palms and kissed her before stalking off.
Damn stubborn demon! Saia glowered at his retreating back, well aware that he hadn’t answered her. Fine. But he wasn’t keeping her out of this. She planned to be with him every step of the way during the transference, whether he liked it or not. And she didn’t care how dangerous it was.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Later that afternoon, Riley pushed away from his desk and exhaled roughly. Dealing with idiot suppliers on the delayed liquor orders and other stuff had left him irritated to his aching eyeballs.
His eyes burned, his head felt heavy like he’d boozed himself into a stupor. Scrubbing a weary hand down his face, he walked out of the office.
The silence in the closed bar grated on his nerves in a long monotonous drone. Traces of disinfectant and a lemon scent left over from the cleaners irritated his sensitive nose. Slowing down, he glanced around.
Where the hell was Zac?
He made his way behind the bar and shoved open the door into the back office. Zac lay on the leather couch with one hefty arm flung over his eyes, the other dragging on the floor.
Riley leaned against the desk, hands braced on the edge and stared down at the slumbering male. No acrid odor of liquor tainted the air. Not a hangover, then.
“Stop with the eyeballing or I’m gonna think you want a piece of me,” Zac muttered, pissed.
“What’s happening, Z? Your latest woman kick you out?” He had no idea why his friend couldn’t use the head on his shoulders when it came to the females he banged.
“On my ass, right on the sidewalk. I give up with them and their possessive crap. Your ONS deal is my motto. Now, I need my zzzs.”
His one-night stands? That lifestyle seemed like a lifetime ago. Not one he cared to revisit either, even in his mind. Just the thought of how Saia had been hurt had his gut twisting like acid eating him. “Just make sure to clear their memories afterwards or all that shit will follow you here.”
Zac grunted, still didn’t look at him.
“I guess you’re not interested in the partnership you’ve been hankering after.”
The big male stilled. Then grumbled. “Yeah, go on, fuck with the fallen.”
Riley waited, knew his friend’s brain would switch into gear soon enough.
A second later, Zac’s hand fell from his brow. He shot up from the couch and grinned. “Well, fuck me.”
“You’re gonna wait a helluva long time for me to sway that way. Nope, not even then.”
Zac laughed. “Why now?”
He’d expected the question after refusing to budge over the years with his precious bar.
Zac had no idea what Riley would soon become—like anyone would want to be pals with the Sin of Wrath.
“Things change. I like a little more free time, so yeah. I’ll have the papers drawn up.”
“C’mon, why now—” Zac stopped, gaze narrowed. His nostrils flared as he sniffed. “Well, I’ll be. You’ve mated to that little mortal from a few weeks ago. Nice to know I haven’t lost my instincts.”
“Yeah, you’re a regular cupid.” Straightening, Riley strolled to the window that looked out into a gloomy thoroughfare, sliding his hands into his back pockets, and felt the photo there.
The reason he’d sought out Zac. He had to leave and go find his sister.
How the hell was he supposed to do that when he had no clue where she might be?
He could read minds, not see the damn future. Wrath had been as helpful as a bloody rock in that regards, even though Riley understood why. SoHo. Right.
Hopefully, he meant Manhattan and not London.
“Gotta go.” Riley headed for the door. “I’ll probably be late tonight.”
“Gotcha.” Zac went horizontal on the couch again. “Good thing I now own half of this place.”
Riley barely heard him as he headed out.
Dusk sneaked in over the city as Riley took form in the snow-laden backstreet in SoHo. The crisp air barely made an impact on him. The photo was of no help after the rain had ruined it. All that remained was a blurred image of a female with light hair.
Since Wrath had bound his sister’s psychic signature from being sensed, he was like a blind man tracking.
Several hours wasted tramping the streets of New York, irritation charged straight down to pissed off. He stopped in the shadows of a building on Spring Street.
“Riley?”
At that low, lightly accented voice, he turned. Shit. Not now. But hell, he owed the male approaching him his very life. “Guard
ian.”
Moonlight cast a silvery glimmer on the male’s multi-colored blue-toned hair and gleamed off the small silver hoops in his ears. Clad in a long, black leather trench coat over a crewneck and leathers, the Empyrean looked like any other New Yorker except for his intimidating height, build, and looks.
Aethan slowed to stop beside Riley in the shadows. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
Riley shrugged. Made him realize he hadn’t bothered to blend in, dressed only in jeans and a tee—the perfect way to draw attention in the icy weather when people bundled up. “Had nothing of import to impart.”
He could feel those gunmetal-gray eyes studying him. “You okay?”
That surprised Riley. Aethan wasn’t one to ask personal questions. “Yeah.” Then Riley realized he had to warn him about the shit that could occur. “There’s something you ought to know; a crack’s forming in the veils of the deepest part of Hell. Gehenna.”
The warrior stilled. “You sure about this?”
As Guardians, they would probably know about those four who’d taken to eternal rest, and the horror that could follow if they awoke.
“Finally made a trip down there. Yeah, I’m sure. Wrath has his army guarding it. Best be prepared for a shitfest if it fractures.”
The warrior’s usually impassive features hardened. He slid his hands in his pockets. Nodded. “Keep me informed, will you?”
“Will do.” As the warrior strode down the street, Riley’s gaze slid from him to The Shamrock Pub. Definitely not his scene with its wholesome goodness, but he needed a damn drink to settle the edginess riding him.
A few minutes later, he entered the packed place. At the bar, a blonde bartender flirted with a customer. She glanced his way, her gaze swept down his body and up again, and she flashed him a full-on, sexy smile.
He dismissed the blatant invitation and headed over to the tables near the windows. A shit-faced drunk crying in his beer looked up with bleary, red-rimmed eyes. “W-why washn’t I good enough for her?”
“Can’t say, man. Sober up and go find out.” Riley willed the human on his way and dropped into the vacated chair, exhaling roughly. His problem was on a far different scale—not his mate, but his damn heritage.
Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection Page 142
