Into The Spirit

by Marie Harte

  Still, suddenly, the world seemed brighter. A bit unsteady under his boots, but his future didn’t stretch out dark and miserable ahead of him any longer.

  Tabithia might in fact be his female. His bonded. He felt like Dominic’s advice had removed a truckload of bricks from his chest. He still had the jitters, something he’d never experienced before, but he knew now he might actually have a chance with her.

  The thought caused his gut to clench. Dominic was sappy as hell in love with his bonded, a woman named Beauty. Aeros wondered if that was her name or simply a nickname, similar to Dominic’s nickname, Torque. The warlock was far too informal with names. And too damn secretive. He hadn’t even let Aeros meet the woman. Still, Aeros had to wonder at the speed of his friend’s bond. Did it happen in such a way, this bonding?

  He shook his head at the thought. Hell, Tabithia floored him. Less than two seconds in her proximity and his heart had nearly pounded out of his chest. What would it feel like to have her look at him the way Beauty had gazed so adoringly over at Dominic? Did Tabithia have a nickname? If he could call her anything, it would be baby. He allowed himself a faint smile. Yes, the endearment would fit. Not that she was soft or weak, but her eyes, those brilliant green gems, had seemed to him almost child-like. Such a sweet description would fit her.

  With a shock, he realised he stood in his hallway, most likely looking as sappy as Dominic had. Rubbing a hand through his short hair, he stalked towards the open living area. None of his men lounged in the living room or large kitchen area. The room typically burst with warriors, either watching the big-screen plasma or cooking something on the six-burner stove. Well, mostly Kiron cooked, while the rest of them devoured every scrap. The dark Sumerian loved to cook. Warriors ate a great deal, even immortal warriors. Kiron’s meals were always good and, more importantly, healthy.

  He could hear Stephano’s and Galen’s voices in the back room—most likely they were in the built-in practice ring. The two often trained together. Galen was their scout, an assassin with a voice like gold. The Bard hadn’t sung much over the past century, but Aeros could still remember his rough tenor filling the night hours with ballads.

  The two were probably working on some new move Stephano had picked up from mixed martial arts matches. Aeros frowned at the thought. He really needed to discuss Stephano’s participation in human competitions.

  Entering the kitchen, Aeros examined the room, seeing it in a new light. Not simply because the colours were almost too bright, but he had to wonder what Tabithia would think of this home he shared with his men. He had another, hidden place, much like Dominic’s, high on a hill and well-fortified by spells, deep in the Alps. But this LA home was where he spent most of his time.

  He reached up and paused with his hand on the stainless steel refrigerator. Would he and Tabithia live here? Hell no. He’d put Aaron in charge. As the eldest, Aaron would do well leading the men.

  Would Tabithia like this place, though? The kitchen was expansive, completely modern and designed with the latest grey-flecked marble countertops and black cabinets and appliances.

  He stared around the place, taking in the lack of comforts. It was spartan. He grinned at the use of such a term. They’d lived amongst expensive luxuries for years, but he and his men rarely splurged on useless items. Everything in the mansion was necessary. Very little, except the plasma or the porn movies his men favoured, was superfluous. One could even argue both items had their uses.

  It wasn’t the house that worried him, though. Not really. What if Tabithia didn’t like him? He was a warrior. He was used to battle. He was a simple man. He trained, fought, trained, fought and trained. Late nights, early morns, little sleep, too much action, and all of it spent with men he’d known for centuries.

  He opened the damn refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. Had a man ever worried something to death before? He was close to the point of fracturing at the seams with doubts.

  “Aeros, there’s a witch at the door.”

  Turning, he met Ajax’s grin.

  “She has a name, Ajax, use it.”

  Ajax scratched his head. He leaned a shoulder against the hallway leading to the bedrooms and lifted a dark eyebrow in amazement. Aeros heard his men filing in from the other end of the expansive mansion behind him. Squaring his shoulders, he nodded for Ajax to move aside.

  Aeros’ stomach clenched. He shut off his dismal thoughts and passed Ajax and his men as they all took seats around the square coffee table. Kiron’s damaged leg earned him a whole sofa, while Aaron and Stephano argued over the leather recliner. Aaron won by sheer stubbornness. Stephano shrugged a big shoulder but tossed his empty water bottle at Aaron’s head as he claimed the second most comfortable chair.

  “All right, let her in. I’ll just clean off and be right out.”

  Aeros walked out before anyone could stop him. Ajax followed him, he noted with a surge of frustration. He wanted a few minutes alone to figure all this out. It seemed he’d not get it. If the witch was here, then she had agreed to come with them. And if she were here, he could test her and discover if she felt any pull towards him. Women had been attracted to him before. Frowning, he studied Ajax. Yes, women sought him out, he remembered that. He could recall many times women had chosen him over Ajax, the younger, lighter and more fun man.

  “What’s up? You wait for the witch, text us like a gazillion times she’s on her way and not to let her leave, then you rush off here to do what?” Ajax asked, taking up a spot by the fireplace. He’d let his light brown hair grow out, the straight, long length coming to his unshaven jaw, Aeros noted.

  “Don’t call her that. She has a name, just as you do, Ajax.”

  Ajax straightened and folded his arms over his chest, but nodded. “Well, if she does, she didn’t say. Why are you worried?”

  He didn’t bother answering. What didn’t have him worrying?

  “Just remember to be respectful, Ajax.”

  He stripped off his T-shirt and grabbed a new one on his way to the bathroom. After a quick wash he dried off quicker than he ever had in his life. Two minutes later he was dressed and out of the door, tugging on the new shirt, his boots clipping on the marble floor announcing his arrival to his guest. For a brief second, he wished he had powers like a demon and could mist in undetected and have his fill of looking at her without her knowledge—if he ever could get his fill.

  Ajax muttered something like ‘boxers in a bind’ behind him, but he ignored the man as he got his first real look at Tabithia in the light of day. She stood opposite him, near the other arched entryway to the great room. All his men were gathered, or at least the five who shared the house. There was a good distance between her and any of his men. She also stood with her back to the wall, near the exit to the front door. Did she fear they would harm her?

  With her eyebrows drawn and hands on her shapely hips, she didn’t appear too fearful. She looked ready for battle. Her glorious, crimson hair was up in a tight ponytail, leaving the contours of her face clear for him to memorise. Dressed in black again, she astounded him. She was small, but the gods had blessed her with a body that would bring a man to his knees. Her glorious breasts, her stunning curves, and her ass all left his fists clenching to touch her in every possible way as he drove deep inside her wet, tight heat.

  Black BDUs, similar to his but one hell of a lot smaller, tucked into tiny black combat boots and a long-sleeved, form-fitting black T-shirt completed her outfit. She could have walked down any street in the world and drawn every eye. Was black her favourite colour?

  She turned partway, and those green eyes zeroed in on him. He fought not to go to her, fought not to touch her, pull her close, and feel her softness against his hardness as he drew in a deep, steady breath. His cock flooded with blood, painfully heavy and erect in seconds.

  “So, are we getting on with this or what?” She looked him up and down, and dismissed him just as quickly to focus her green stare on his men. He released his pent-up
breath on a long, slow exhale. Thank fuck she’d not meant what he wanted with that question. There was one very big thing he wanted her to get on, but not in front of his men.

  Each man earned a less than approving glance from Tabithia before she locked gazes with him again. She shook her head, as if already tired of them.

  “Well?”

  He couldn’t speak. Among the list of reactions he had to her, a smile wanted to tug his lips up at her behaviour. She cocked her head to the side as she watched him.

  No one spoke. With his peripheral vision, he could see his men look from her to him and back again.

  “Well? Cat got your tongue? Let’s hit it. I have plans, and they don’t include standing around wasting time, Sparkie.”

  “Aeros, my name is Aeros. This is Ajax, my second in command. The two men on the couch are Galen—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Holding a hand up, she stopped him as easily as he would an insolent soldier. “Let me give you the set-up.” That slender hand rose and once again she started ticking off points—just as she had in the parking lot. “We are on a treasure hunt, not a vacation. I don’t need deets, just movement. The sooner we hit it, yep, that’s right, the sooner we call this a done deal. Now, come on, boys, let’s hit this.”

  “You heard her, let’s hit it.” Ajax laughed, clearly amused, while the Bard grinned and stood.

  Hand over heart, he bowed at the waist. “I’m called Galen, but I go by the Bard, as well.” Dark eyes and curly, thick, black hair hung to his collar. Galen was the image of a Greek, tall, broad-shouldered and dark of eye and hair. The man had always had a way with words. “I’m honoured to meet such a beautiful, stunning member of the Jade coven.”

  Iridescent green eyes focused on Galen with a thoughtful look before she nodded in approval. “You catch on quick, Bard. Compliments always get rewarded.”

  Always? Swallowing past the dryness in his throat, Aeros stepped forward.

  Aaron stood at the same time and caught her attention. “Aaron, at your service, little lady.”

  Aaron hadn’t seemed so alive in centuries. His dark face, bronzed from years under the sun, creased in an unfamiliar flash of white teeth. He’d once had a family of his own, Aeros recalled suddenly. He’d had a daughter, bright and smiling, the light of her father’s eye. Even for a Spartan, Aaron had been fierce, but not to his daughter. He’d spent many years keeping her from the ways of war. Looking at him now, Aeros could see the man who once had defied the King of Sparta himself over the time he’d spent with his family.

  “Little lady? Are you like ancient or what?” Tabithia wrinkled her pert, little nose at the solemn warrior.

  Aaron eyed her fondly, the unfamiliar smile on his face growing. “Very, it would seem. I am the eldest.”

  Looking duly impressed with Aaron’s boast, she grinned up at him. “Uh, yeah, clue? It’s Tabithia, or, if you must, ‘beautiful’, but ‘little lady’? Not a chance.”

  Around him, his men softened, apparently liking her straightforward teasing. Stephano moved closer to her, but as she had with Aeros last night, she kept distance between herself and the redheaded warrior. Aeros wasn’t going to examine how much that pleased him.

  “I am called Stephano, Tabithia.” Stephano took another step towards her.

  Aeros’ shoulders tensed, and he fisted his hands.

  Tabithia retreated and rolled her eyes, clearly not impressed with the warrior known for pleasuring whole harems of women in one night.

  Stephano looked stunned.

  The men chuckled, a dry, unfamiliar sound. Glancing at them, Aeros realised Tabithia not only sparkled to him, she seemed to have entranced his men as easily as she drew breath. Thankfully, none of them looked at her with more than natural curiosity and long-forgotten humour, almost as if she were a younger sister. If even one of his men showed more than that, he’d have to tear some heads off.

  Smirking, Stephano fingered his belt and rocked on his feet. Tall, nearly shoulder to shoulder with Aeros, the warrior could and would take a life without a thought, but looking at him, most couldn’t see beyond his too-handsome looks. The weakness had served them well in the past and had earned him the name of Narc, after the self-loving god Narcissus.

  Tabithia frowned at him. “Great, that’s great.”

  Kiron studied Tabithia from his position on the couch. Meeting his eyes, Aeros nodded for Kiron to introduce himself. For a woman who hadn’t wanted to meet his men, she waited politely for Kiron to sip his water before introducing himself. “Kiron,” he finally said, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to miss this trip.”

  She winked at the dark warrior, making the man watch her in growing alarm as she moved closer and eyed his bandaged leg. “Well, for a price I can get that leg up and going.”

  “Uh…” Kiron looked uncertainly from Aeros to Tabithia. Aeros couldn’t blame the man, he was confused as well. Kiron had once been involved with a witch, though, and by the look of his ashen expression, he’d rather not have Tabithia using magic on him now.

  “Just kidding, I don’t dabble in much healing. Hunting, yep, which reminds me…?” She turned and pinned him easily with her sparkling green eyes. Stepping back from where he’d moved close enough to smell her sweet scent, she motioned to the door with her hand. “And, yeah, towering over me isn’t getting us to the plane any quicker now, is it, Sparkie?” She handed her backpack to over with a nod a queen would envy. “Thanks.”

  When he didn’t speak quickly enough for her, she said, “So, let’s go, huh, Sparkie?” Her eyes met his, sizzling in what he assumed was her death-stare. She didn’t appear to notice he wasn’t intimidated. She barely reached his chest. Being worried over what she might do to him was akin to worrying over a small child harming him.

  “Sparkie?” The corner of Aaron’s mouth tipped up in a smirk at the question.

  Obviously, his men thought this funny. Not one of them seemed anything but humoured by the little witch. What else could they think? She was tiny, perhaps average height for a woman, but she barely came to their chests. Compared to them? She was delicately formed. Fragile.

  Aeros mentally shook his head. “We have a jet ready to leave. Is this all you will bring with you? It will be many days of travel, I believe.”

  Her frown deepened, marring her smooth, pale brow. Aeros wanted to brush his lips over it, still her worry with his strength.

  “I have skills, you do realise that? Right? And, duh, I’m not staying with you, as in spending the nights. I’m off home at night then I’ll come back in the a.m. with doughnuts if you’re all good. If it takes days. I’m betting on less than three.”

  She wasn’t staying? “No, you will stay with us, overnights and days. You may not be able to find us if you leave. Anything can happen in the field, we must be—”

  Throwing her small arms up in disgust, she started pacing. Obviously leaving them each night was important to her. Just as important to him was her staying. Not merely so he could see if his feelings for her continued to grow, but because his instinct warned him to keep her close. If she left? He sensed she might not come back. Worse, he’d get less time to figure out if there was a bond between them.

  His men stood watching with a mixture of amazement and amusement.

  “Good grief. Do you always talk things to death? I’ll think about it. Improvise, will ya? Loosen up. Go with the flow.” She stopped pacing a few feet from him and tipped her head back to meet his eyes.

  He nodded, silent because she had him so tied in knots he didn’t know what to say. She was deflecting, trying to hide how much staying with them bothered her. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew.

  She watched him nod, then sauntered over to Stephano. He’d never in his life dreamed black BDUs would look so damned stunning on a woman’s ass, but Tabithia’s ass in the serviceable gear was intoxicating.

  “Okay, lead the way, will you, Red? And why do you have all the colour of the group? Why are you all so dark and, well, drear
y?”

  Dreary? He wasn’t dreary. He met Aaron’s amused look and frowned back over to watch Tabithia’s lush backside, Stephano at her side.

  “Greeks can be like that. I’m not really a Greek. It’s a long story, but I was raised a Spartan all the same.” As Aeros watched, Stephano grinned down at her and said, “Actually, most of us were raised in Sparta, but not many of us were born there.”

  His second in command held his arm out for her, and nearly got his head knocked off.

  Tabithia eyed him and said, “No touching, Red. Lead the way, though. I’m all ears.”

  Stephano didn’t miss a beat. He waved a hand in an exaggerated bow for her to go first. “I’ll tell you all about it on the flight.”

  She murmured something about how she’d always wondered how Sparta could have been so strong without importing some Celtic blood.

  Aeros could have told her all about his homeland. He could have been the one leading her to the jet, talking with her, chatting over drinks with her.

  “Contact me if Dominic calls. He found a Death Stalker cell turning immortals into some sort of beasts. If he finds out anything from the Death Stalker, call me. We should be back in four days, a week at the most,” Aeros warned.

  “Beasts?” Ajax frowned, his dark eyes concerned. As he should be. He’d nearly forgotten the young Death Stalker mage Dominic had dumped off at the Immortal Council’s compound. His mind was not where it should be. Staring off after Tabithia, he shrugged duty aside for the first time in centuries. She was his mission now, not the fight with the Death Stalkers. The immortal world would survive without him for a while. The increase in Death Stalker numbers would not be solved by him alone. It was time for him to take something—someone—for himself. Soon, aye, soon he’d have to deal with this new threat, but for now, for the next few days, he was focusing on her.

  “Yeah, I’ll fill you in on the way. Kiron, call if any word comes in. If we aren’t back, call the men on break back in and assist Dominic. Talen can lead if you are still immobile. This takes precedence over the enemy.” Talen was on a six-month downtime, but downtime meant nothing in this world. If trouble knocked, they all had to be prepared to answer.