The Chosen

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The Chosen Page 7

by Theresa Meyers


  Lilly and Colt dutifully pulled the goggles on, and Colt made sure his hat was down good and firm on his head before all three of them ascended the rope ladder.

  Remington speared China with a glance. “You don’t like that succubus much, do you?”

  Her lips twitched. “What gave it away?”

  He didn’t bother to answer; he wanted to get to the point of the matter at hand. “Is it because Colt’s taken with her?”

  China glared at him. “You seem to spend a lot of time worried about your little brother’s love life.”

  “I watch my brother’s back no matter what the situation.”

  China snorted and turned her gaze upward as the froth of Miss Arliss’s petticoats smacked Colt in the face. “Family first with you Jacksons. That’s the way it works, ain’t it?”

  “Why does that seem to irritate you so much, Miss McGee?”

  A flash of darkness clouded the silver shine in her gaze for just a moment. “Maybe we just have different definitions of family.”

  Remington let that thought roll around in his head for a bit. He really didn’t know all that much about where China had come from before she’d met up with Colt. What exactly made her so prickly when the subject of family surfaced? There was more to her story than she was telling any of them. The attorney in him could sense it—and the danger it posed to him and his brothers.

  “Looks like they’re preparing to pull up that ladder. I’d better get on quick.”

  He grasped her by the upper arm, and she turned those unnerving silver eyes his way. “How are you going to get back here safely?”

  “Don’t you worry about me none. I’ve got my ways.”

  Her silver eyes blurred as her form dissolved, changed shape, and shrunk in size. The tiny golden mouse sat up on its haunches, its front feet clasped before it, impossibly small nose and whiskers twitching. Remington crouched, holding out his hand in the powder-fine dirt of Allen Street. China scampered into his hand, her little mouse feet tickling his skin. He scooped her up and held her level to the rope ladder.

  China ran off his hand and clung to the rope as the ladder was hauled upward. Her golden color blended in perfectly with the tawny color of the rope, and after a few feet he couldn’t even see her any longer. He watched as the props on the airship began to spin faster and faster and the ship lifted higher into the piercing blue of the desert sky.

  There was nothing left for him to do but wait. And pray.

  Chapter 6

  China dug her tiny mouse feet into the rope for all she was worth and bit her teeth into it too for good measure. The last thing she needed was an errant hawk spying her and ripping her off the rope before she made it to the decks above. She could shift quickly, but not fast enough to defend herself from a bird of prey.

  Distance seemed to infinitely increase when her size changed to something so small. She was just grateful they were pulling the rope ladder up so she didn’t have to climb the whole damn thing. The dark wood of the teak deck hovered into view, and China jumped off the rope before she was crushed in the tangled heap of the ladder.

  She glanced to the side and saw the tips of Miss Arliss’s scuffed and dusty black boots right beside a pair of knee-high black boots that were polished so highly they gleamed like Oriental lacquer. Each shoe seemed the size of a train car. Her gaze traveled up an equally shiny expanse of blue-black taffeta the color of raven wings that stretched upward as far as she could see. China took a sniff. Definitely another Darkin; she would bet her whiskers on it. Likely the vampire noblewoman Winchester had mentioned.

  “Another Mr. Jackson, I presume?” Blue-black taffeta asked. Her Eastern European accent made “Jackson” sound more like “Yakson.” Definitely vampire.

  China scampered for cover when Colt nearly squashed her beneath the heel of his cowboy boot as he sprung up from the deck where he’d landed after clambering over the edge of the dirigible. He dusted off his hands on his denim pants before taking the woman’s hand, which was covered in fine black kidskin. He kissed it lightly on the back, then flashed her that smile. The one that could make women melt. “The youngest, and the most handsome, at your service, your ladyship . . .”

  China squeaked in indignation. Colt was still the same cocky bastard with the ladies he’d always been. At one time she’d thought he found her special. How stupid of her. His charm was just how he related to women—all women. What she wouldn’t give to sink her tiny needle teeth into his ankle right about now. ’Course with his boots on it wouldn’t do her a damn bit of good.

  She grinned, as much as she could as a mouse, when his older brother unceremoniously took the young woman’s gloved hand out of Colt’s. “Lady Alexandra Porter, Contessa Drossenburg,” Winchester said, his tone tinged with a ripple of irritation. “My little brother, Colt Jackson.”

  China didn’t miss Winchester’s emphasis on “little,” as if it somehow referred to Colt’s anatomy and not just the age difference between them. It was a pity mice couldn’t belly laugh, but she squeaked and headed toward the edge of the wall and from there toward the double glass doors. Her legs were burning. What was only a few feet for the humans, vampire and succubus was a long run for her.

  “So this is the contessa.”

  The woman gave the slightest inclination of her head. “It seems we are to transport you to Phoenix, along with your charming companion.” Her voice was like warm, rustling silk, smooth but husky and inviting at the same time. China bet the contessa could throw one hell of a glamour on people with a voice like that.

  “Yes, we’re much obliged, ma’am, um, Lady Drossenburg,” Colt corrected himself.

  She smiled and another burning curl of jealousy ignited in China’s gut. Was there not a single female on this planet who didn’t just trip over herself when he smiled? Well, it wouldn’t be her. Never again. At least not with Colt. Now, Remington’s smile was a whole other matter. China cursed silently. What was she thinking? No. Hunters had to be off her list of interests completely, especially if she wanted her plans for getting back in Rathe’s good graces to be successful. She could be as helpful and as pleasant, even enticing as she wanted, as long as in the end she got the completed Book of Legend in her hands and gave it to Rathe.

  “It is my pleasure to help the Chosen,” the vampire contessa answered, then turned away from him without missing a beat, expecting them to follow.

  Colt frowned. Her head snapped around, her tawny eyes narrowing in warning, the air bristling with distaste. She looked down her long aquiline nose at him. “Fair warning, sir, this ship is filled with vampires. And we can hear your thoughts as clearly as if you’d spoken them out loud.”

  China watched Colt’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Yes, your ladyship.” At least the man had enough sense to know when to back down from a dangerous Darkin.

  The vampire gave him a curt nod and turned back, heading for the large, intricate Tiffany stained glass double doors that adjoined the deck. The motif of the red castle with black wings swung past Colt’s nose as Winn opened the door to let the ladies enter the interior of the dirigible first. China skittered in right behind them, nearly getting lost in the shuffle of skirt fabric before the door could close.

  “Mind your manners, boy. No sense in offending the vampires before we know if they can help us find the missing part of the Book,” Winn whispered harshly into Colt’s ear as he passed.

  The top level of the dirigible looked immense. Perhaps it was her diminutive size, or just that she’d never been anywhere so grand before. It was surprisingly modern, like a plush hotel lobby, surrounded by windows. Huge potted palms scattered throughout the space were like giant jungle trees to her, their long, fringed green boughs ruffled by the breeze coming in the open doors, and the sunlight filtering through them from the windows above.

  China skittered from behind the heavy, elegantly carved mahogany foot of one of the stuffed chairs and settees to another. They were grouped to create areas like small parlor
s for gentle conversation or drinking tea, making it easy for her to maneuver about without being spotted.

  From her vantage point on the plush, thick Oriental carpeting in rich burgundy and gold interspersed with the black points of the vampire’s crest, it all looked immense and especially grand. Even the roaring fire in the grate of a marble fireplace at the far end of the room looked four stories tall from her inch-high viewpoint.

  Colt paced over to the fireplace and stared deeply into the flames. He looked so utterly out of place in such an elegant setting that for a moment she felt sorry for him. But she had mere seconds to act.

  Scampering behind one of the potted palms, she allowed the shift to take her. The heat of it, like hot water running just beneath her skin, always invigorated her. Nerve and muscle, skin and bone stretched and grew as she took mortal form once more.

  She rarely changed into the form of a man, but when she did, it always felt a bit off. As if she were wearing clothing a size too large or had a head cold when she spoke in a voice too deep. With animal forms it was different. Each one had a special feeling to it. They were like different colors—all together producing a single rainbow, yet distinct enough on their own to be easy to identify. All of them resided within her, and yet they were each different parts of her. She just hoped Colt would be more receptive to talking to an old friend than to an ex-lover.

  China pulled on the lapels of the lab coat, trying not to trip over her larger than normal feet as she approached Colt. “Fascinating, isn’t it?”

  He spun around and stared hard at her in her male guise. “Marley?”

  China grinned. Maybe she was even better than she’d thought at this if she could fool Colt at such a close range. “So good to know that I can occasionally surprise even you Jacksons.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Your brother and the contessa offered to assist me in delivering Balmora to Her Majesty.” China thought that sounded right. She’d only picked up bits of their conversation in Remington’s law office because she’d been too distracted by that succubus sniffing around Colt’s heels and the fierce tangle of confusing emotions roiling around in her. Something in her still hung on to the possibility that she and Colt had a chance. She’d always been an outsider and felt that he was one too. Once upon a time she’d thought they were two of a kind in that respect. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  Colt’s nostrils flared slightly, and he drew his revolver and cocked it in one swift motion, pointing it an inch from the center of her forehead. Her heart stopped, then kicked up beating twice as fast.

  “Who are you really?”

  She sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes, and let the change take her, melding back into her normal mortal form. “What gave me away?”

  “First, Marley don’t like supernaturals, so I seriously doubt he’d take an offer of riding aboard a vampire’s dirigible. Second, I think it’s going to take half of the Queen’s army to pry Balmora out of Marley’s hands. He’s not going to give her up willingly. Third,” he wrinkled his nose, “I can still smell the sulfur on you.”

  “So I’m a little rusty,” China groused with a shrug.

  “You’re sloppy. There’s a difference. You should know who you’re impersonating better than that. And you didn’t answer my question.” The bite to his words and the cold, all-business tone of his voice suddenly made China feel brittle.

  “I attached myself to the ladder as a mouse when they hauled it up. Remington wanted to make sure it wasn’t a trap. And, for your information, at least I’m not heartless like you. I can’t believe you left me behind.”

  She wanted him to acknowledge her. To wrap his arms around her and tell her it was all a joke. He was just using the succubus to get to his father’s piece of the Book like they’d planned all along. But Colt didn’t so much as budge an inch toward her. His frame was still stiff and solid. China frowned, and Colt turned back to the fire.

  All of a sudden it hit her like a bullet mid-chest, a hot sting, piercing to the core. He was done with her. Done with them. Whatever spark had smoldered between her and Colt was gone. Somehow, he’d moved on.

  “Look. If I’d had any chance of getting us both out, I would have. As it was, Remington came to get you. If anybody could talk you out of that jail cell, I knew it would be him, not me.”

  “Regardless, you still owe me.” She didn’t like the petulance in her voice, but she wanted no doubt left that she intended to collect on the debt. “And by the way, I’d watch that demon if I were you. She’s already got you hooked.”

  Colt’s sensual lips hardened into a flat, firm line. “Tell you what, you protect my brother’s back if you two go out searching for Diego’s map and make it back, then we’ll talk about what I owe you.”

  Anger, hot and seething, spurted in her gut. How dare he cast her aside—a princess of the Darkin realm. Sure, she’d never told him as much, but still the disregard stung her pride. A low growl started deep in China’s throat. How dare he try to weasel out of what he owed her! For a moment she contemplated shifting into the cougar again, but then the flicker of movement behind him caught her attention. The succubus was back.

  China had had enough. She was done with Colt Jackson.

  “We’ll talk when we get back,” she said between gritted teeth, then turned on her booted heel and stalked off across the lobby of the airship to find the nearest exit.

  Indignation made her steps quick and determined. Windows were everywhere on this airship, but where was the damn door?

  “I am Enric. May I be of service?” China whipped her head around. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching. The blond vampire, in his fancy uniform accented with gold buttons down the left side, held his hands loosely clasped in the small of his back and stood there staring at her.

  China refused to let him ruffle her. When it came down to it, he was just another Darkin like her. “You got a door out of this place?”

  He quirked one brow in question and lifted his right hand, indicating a small hall that angled off to the right. “This way.”

  China marched off, not waiting to see or caring if he tagged along or not. She just wanted to be as far away as she could get from Colt Jackson. Now.

  Once she rounded the corner of the wall she spied the double doors leading to the outer deck that circled the gondola at this level. Coming up, she’d counted three decks. They were on the top.

  “Is there anything else?” Enric asked politely, his expression bland.

  “Not unless you can arrange to have Colt Jackson or that red-haired hussy dropped off this thing.”

  Enric’s lips twitched. “I’m afraid not.”

  China nodded and pushed the door open, stepping out into the brilliant sunlight. The vampire didn’t bother to follow. She closed her eyes, letting the orange glow of the sunlight filter through her eyelids as she took several deep, measured breaths. Slow in. Slow out. Deep and steady. The heat began to flow in her veins, her body shrinking again. The hairs on her body enlarged and stiffened as they transformed into large black feathers; her toes and heels spread backward into thin clawed feet; and her face hardened and pulled forward, making it impossible to move her lips as they turned into a beak.

  She hopped up onto the railing, flexing her wings, and glanced back for only a second at the bemused expression of the vampire behind the windows before she dropped off the edge of the airship and let the wind take her.

  Flying under one’s own power was the most glorious thing of all. Well, next to sex, but it was pretty damn close. First the sensation of falling, then of being perfectly buoyant in the air, lifted by the warm slipstream of wind that caressed her body like a lover.

  At least flying didn’t break your heart.

  China circled down slowly toward the small dot she saw waiting on the streets of Tombstone below. As the buildings grew larger, so did Remington. He held his hand over his eyes, shielding them as he looked upward at her.

  For a second she had the silly n
otion to show him what she could do. She dove, head first for the ground, her wings tucked in neat and tight against her body, and then, at the last moment, expanded them fully, circling in a wide arc above Allen Street.

  Remington’s sculpted lips lifted in a smile as she settled down to earth. She shifted, letting the heat fuse her body back into its human form. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and for a second she lost her balance.

  A firm, warm grip circled her upper arm. “Whoa there. You all right?”

  China held the heel of her hand to her temple to steady the teeter of the landscape in her vision. Her body swayed. “Just a might dizzy. Must have shifted too many times today.” She tried to stand steady and ended up sagging into Remington. He settled his arm around her waist and locked her against his side.

  “How about we get you back up to the office and out of this heat. That might help.”

  China shook her head. Big mistake. The world swirled even faster into a dizzying blend of color. “Need to eat,” she murmured. Darkness crept in on the edges of her vision.

  Remington caught her before she fell to the dirt. He’d never known a shifter to faint like that, but then he supposed there were lots of things he’d not learned about them on a personal level, since the only time he’d come close to them was in a kill or be killed scenario.

  “Miss McGee? China? Can you hear me?” He shook her slightly, patted her cheek with his hand, and when she didn’t respond, swept her up into his arms to carry her back up to his office. Her body was as soft as it was firm, smooth skin over sleek muscle. He cleared his throat and readjusted his hold on her, doing his best to ignore exactly how she felt. He pulled open one of the double doors with two fingers and gazed at the stairs.

  Remington groaned. That was a lot of steps carrying the dead weight of a woman. But there was no choice. He couldn’t very well leave her down here, and he couldn’t get her to his office without climbing the stairs. As he walked up each step, her hair tickled his neck and chin. The strangely feminine scent of black tea laced with vanilla lingered in her hair.

 

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