by Brooklyn Ann
To her fury, Silas laughed. “Oh, is that all? Your dual enrollment is already paid for. And, I will pay for your college if that’s where you’re wanting to go.” His accent faded. “Now what do you plan to study?”
“Automotive and Business Management. I want to own my own shop,” Akasha blurted without thinking. Her fists clenched in annoyance that he got her off the subject. “But that’s not the point. At least at the group home I knew what to expect.” Her voice rose against her will. “Now, I’m living under the roof of a complete stranger in a place where I don’t belong—”
“You don’t think you’re worthy of nice things?” Silas asked softly.
Akasha nearly growled, continuing her rant. “If you think you can buy my approval, or make me like you, or whatever, you got another thing coming. I—”
Silas held up a hand. “I think, as things stand, I am indulging you at my own pleasure. Now what is it you were saying about my car? It needs a…” His hand dropped and he shrugged helplessly.
“Clutch,” Akasha finished. “And when’s the last time you changed the oil?” Her eyes narrowed in accusation as she continued. “Or the plugs, the wires, the filters, and all that stuff?”
“I had it looked over when I bought it two years ago.”
She nearly choked in outrage. “Two years? I would never let it go that long! Why did you buy such a valuable car if you won’t take care of it?”
He shrugged. “I thought it looked nice.”
“Nice?” Akasha’s mind swam with baffled outrage at his nonchalance. “Do you know how many people would give their right arm for a car like that? Damn, you think you can just buy anything you want without even understanding it, don’t you?”
Silas’s drowning green gaze met hers as he studied her long and intently. “I think you may be right.”
Somehow she got the feeling he wasn’t only referring to the car. An odd shiver ran through her body. “I am?”
He ran a hand through his silken black hair, suddenly looking tired and pensive. “Yes, so how about we see to the car now?”
Akasha’s heart ached with desire to get under the hood of the Barracuda and get it into its best running condition. Timidly, she offered, “I could take care of it for you, if you’d like.”
Silas gave her another long considering look that made her squirm. “I thought that was a man’s profession.”
Akasha glared at him. “You turn a wrench with your hand, not your dick.” Before he could recover from her words, she asked, “So are you going to let me fix it, or not? Because if I’m going to do this, I need tools.”
He laughed, walked to the door, and grabbed his keys. “Very well. I suppose we may as well go fetch what is needed now. I trust you know where such wares are sold?”
Two hours later they were back in Silas’s garage with over two thousand dollars worth of tools and car parts. Akasha had no idea what the hell happened. Who had won the argument? But then the ‘Cuda’s hood was open and she had a wrench in her hand at last, so she was too happy to give a shit.
Chapter Eight
Silas watched in awe as Akasha operated on his car like a master surgeon. Where had she learned such a skill? Certainly not at the group home. He longed to ask her but held back, not wanting to see her eyes darken again with pain and hostility. For once she seemed at ease with him, alternating between lecturing him on his neglect of vehicle maintenance and commanding him where to point the flashlight. She’d even smiled when the tools had been placed in her hands. The curve of her lips and the dimples in her cheeks took his breath away. It seemed he found the key to her happiness.
“I don’t like the look of this fuel filter,” Akasha said, so close to him he could feel her breath on his ear. “Could you step back a little and shine the light a bit more to the left?”
Silas pointed the beam where she directed. Now her curved backside was turned enticingly toward him, awakening his loins with a torturous vengeance. Her feminine scent, mingled with the smell of oil and tobacco tormented his senses. Silas ran his tongue along his fangs and took a deep shuddering breath. After centuries of experiencing her embrace in his visions, it was now maddening not to touch her.
Akasha held one end of the filter to her nose and sniffed. Her nose wrinkled at the rancid odor. “It might just be old gas that made this orange residue. I was afraid your tank was rusted.” She tapped her wrench against her hip, oblivious to the mess accumulating on her new slacks. “Still, I’m going to double check after you go through two full tanks. Could you grab the new filter?”
Silas straightened up to see to her request. Akasha’s hand came down on his back so hard and fast that it knocked his breath out and he almost dropped the flashlight.
“Be careful! You almost clocked your head on the hood.” Her eyes were wide and dark purple with obvious concern.
“Thank you,” he gasped, slack-jawed in astonishment. The strength she had imparted in holding him down was immense, impossible.
Akasha snatched her hand back as if it had been burned. “Um…the filter is in that small box with the blue logo.” The longing on her face, begging for him to ignore what had just happened was as apparent as the crimson blush on her cheeks from their brief physical contact.
Silas decided to honor her unspoken request and fetched the fuel filter. It seemed Akasha had yet another secret for him to unlock, but he would leave her be for the time being. For now it was enough to watch that becoming blush and revel in her nearness as she worked. Unbidden, his gaze traveled over her exquisite form bent over the car and his cock stirred once more. Ah, but this was sweet torment. He thanked the fates above that his jacket covered the bulge in his trousers.
As he handed her the filter, holding back a sigh as his hand brushed her skin, Akasha’s eyes met his tentatively. “I didn’t… hurt you, did I?” she asked carefully.
“No,” Silas said. “You startled me. That’s all. Now where shall I point the light?”
Her sigh of relief was nearly inaudible. “Over here.”
They worked together in silence until Akasha had installed every new part they were able to acquire. The clutch would have to wait until it was shipped from another store back east. By the time they finished, Silas was in a state of painful arousal. When Akasha wrapped her lips around the opening of a beer bottle, he nearly groaned in agony.
“I am going to go for a walk.” His voice shook with need. Perhaps if he fed again, it would abate a fraction of his lust. “Thank you so much for the work you’ve done on my car. I shall have to get you one of your own when you get your license.”
He left before she could reply. The chilly October air did little to cool his ardor. With shock, he realized that it hadn’t been that much warmer in the garage with Akasha. The heat between them had been too great for either to notice.
Silas let out a growl of frustration. He longed to cover Akasha’s lips in devouring kisses and hold that delectable rear of hers as he plunged his shaft deep inside her sweetness. But for now it was not to be.
He had no idea what made her eyes narrow in suspicion every time he offered her a kindness. Her past must be terrible enough to have damaged her spirit. And he knew that if he made the slightest advance towards her she would be gone and he would be lucky to escape without a knife wound…or crushed by her unnatural strength. He’d have to be very careful around her.
When he arrived at the nearest tavern, Silas wasted no time in selecting his victim. But the bar fly’s blood and the cloying odor of her perfume did nothing to banish the memory of Akasha’s sweet scent. Nor did his brisk walk home. Thankfully, the house was dark when he returned and a quick check on his Mark told him Akasha was upstairs getting ready for bed.
Silas stalked up to his office and grabbed his sword from the wall. The ancient Claymore gleamed at him in the moonlight from the windows. Perhaps some exercise would do him good.
***
Akasha tossed and turned in bed as her mind raced. She couldn’t stop
thinking about the enigma that was Silas McNaught. Why did he bring her here? He’d kept to his word and not made any unwelcome advances towards her and he was truly gone from dawn to dusk. She borrowed his car without permission and was rewarded rather than punished. More confusing was that he spoke to her like an equal, yet he’d treated his client like a subordinate.
She sighed and tried to push the thoughts away. What do I care as long as I get to work on that beautiful car!
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. For a business man, Silas knew how to aim a flashlight well. Maybe he could assist her in adjusting the clutch linkage when the time came. At least then he wouldn’t be in danger of hitting his head.
Her smile vanished and her heart jumped a moment as she remembered stopping him earlier. Had he realized her abnormal strength? At first, from his gaping expression, it seemed like it. But then he hadn’t said anything and they’d gone back to work as if everything were normal. Her pulse eased. He must not have noticed.
As her trepidation faded, Akasha couldn’t stop remembering the feel of hard muscle under the fabric of Silas’s jacket and the faint scent of his cologne when he stood next to her. When his silken hair had brushed her cheek, she’d shivered, but not in fear. Strangely, she hadn’t noticed that it was cold in the garage until he left for his walk…She forced the thought away.
It seemed Silas went on a lot of walks. Maybe he had OCD or something.
Akasha shifted around on the bed awhile longer before she gave up and kicked the blankets aside. Maybe a cigarette would help her relax. She pulled on her robe, grabbed her smokes, and went out on her balcony.
Before she struck her lighter, a movement from below made her freeze. Silas was in the backyard, shirtless and wielding a sword. Her breath caught. She felt as if she was struck in the chest by a ball peen hammer. His body was not the typical soft form carried by most business men. No, this was hard steel masculinity displayed in the bright moonlight.
Though it was so cold that the ground was crunchy with frost and Silas’s breath came out in puffy clouds, a fine sheen of sweat glistened on his smooth muscular chest. He thrust the massive weapon with such controlled strength she could tell he was an expert. What the hell was a financial guy doing with a sword? The thought ceased as she watched sweat trail down one hardened nipple to run down his flat stomach. She gasped as warmth flooded between her legs.
Was this what Xochitl called “lady wood?” Akasha’s cheeks heated. Because of her traumatic past, she’d never been sexually aroused before. But now, at the sight of this Scottish wet dream, her core seemed to throb and pulse with its own inner life.
Silas looked up, and their eyes met for one eternal moment. The breath fled from Akasha’s body as electric heat flared between them. The world tilted as she stumbled backward. At the last second, she caught herself on the balcony’s support beam and fled back to her room with her face flaming.
Chapter Nine
Phoenix, Arizona
Agent Holmes listened with rapt fascination as Francis Milbury related the story behind the missing mutant woman.
In 1979, a cell mutating serum was invented. When injected into chimpanzees, it gave them quicker reflexes, greater endurance, resistance to disease and extreme temperatures… and incredible strength. The U.S. military was elated. They could create the perfect soldier. Eager to see the effects of the serum in action, a squad of troops bound for the Gulf War was injected. At first the results were optimistic. The squad had the highest kill count, succeeded in the most difficult ambushes, and arrived fastest to rendezvous points.
Unfortunately, another side effect evinced itself. The injected soldiers also developed heightened intelligence and became too independent. They refused to follow orders, preferring to do things their own way. Many refused to kill civilians when necessary. It was decided that the project would be terminated. The soldiers were sent on suicide missions and those that survived met with “accidents.” But, to the military’s chagrin, one soldier went AWOL and could not be found.
Private Jamison Lindsey remained missing long after the war despite fervent attempts to locate him. It was discovered he’d been in Ireland and married a local girl by the name of O’Reilly, but they’d left the country several years prior. Finally Lindsey was found in the Colorado National Forest, using his wife’s last name. They had a daughter, which was a shock because the injected men were supposed to be sterile. This child needed to be studied.
Orders went out to terminate the couple and secure the child. The first part of the mission was a success. The second: a failure. Somehow, an eight year old girl had escaped four of the government’s top assassins.
Holmes let out a low whistle. “And you say they never found any leads?”
“Inquiries were made at every orphanage and convent in the surrounding areas. No children by the name O’Reilly or Lindsey was found. The man in charge at the time quit looking then. He’d assumed she died in the woods, either killed by an animal or dead from exposure, though a body was never recovered, only a scrap of bloody fabric from her coat.” Milbury leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his silver buzz cut. “But when I took over the case and read through the file, I had a hunch that she was still alive and at large.”
Holmes nodded. Hunches were his bread and butter. “Did they try looking for her by her first name?”
Milbury shook his head. “We don’t know it. If there’d been a birth certificate, we would have caught Lindsey right away and avoided this whole mess. The only way we knew his daughter’s age was because we found eight candles next to the remainder of the birthday cake.”
“What about the forest rangers,” Joe asked. “Did any of them see anything?”
From the Major’s startled look, it was obvious no one in the department had considered the option. Typical military arrogance, Holmes thought with a wry grin.
“Damn it!” Francis pounded his fist on the arm of the chair. “I’ll bet they didn’t think to ask since the perimeter was secured. But if the girl had gotten far enough and a ranger had picked her up…” he trailed off and pulled out his phone. “I need to make some calls.”
***
Dread filled Akasha as Coeur d’Alene High School came into view. When she got into the dual enrollment program, she thought she’d escaped its blue and white halls for good. But Xochitl and Sylvis insisted they pick up Beau and Aurora every day for lunch.
So once more she found herself walking through the clique-filled cafeteria, feeling more like a fraud than before in her new clothes.
The cheerleaders tossed their blonde hair and tittered as Akasha willed herself not to knock their teeth in. Then Xochitl approached them, resplendent in black lipstick and a spiked collar.
She fixed the head cheerleader with a potent stare and began to chant in an eerie melodic language.
The girl turned a ghastly shade of grayish white and fled with her followers.
“Thanks, Xoch’.” Akasha smiled gratefully. “Did you just try and cast a spell on that cheerleader?” She didn’t believe in magic, but wanted to see if her friend was gullible enough to.
Xochitl laughed and tossed back her waist length black and purple hair. Her silver eyebrow ring seemed to glint mischievously “No. I told her in Chinese that her tits look lopsided and maybe she should ask her daddy to buy her better implants next time. It’s what she believes that matters. That’s how voodoo works n’stuff.”
Akasha gasped. “No shit, you speak Chinese?” Every new facet Xochitl displayed was astounding.
Beau plopped down next to Akasha and began to play with her hair. “And Spanish, German and Latin. Her mom could speak even more languages.”
Xochitl’s eyes darkened with pain at the mention of her mother before she changed the subject. “So, what were the bimbos worked up about this time?”
Akasha gently extracted her curls from Beau’s grasp. “My new jeans, if you can believe it. I don’t get it.”
“I can’t believe
those assholes are fucking with you ‘cuz you got a new guardian.” Aurora shook her head, making the silver beads in her braids clink like tiny wind chimes.
“I can.” Sylvis rolled her eyes. “People aren’t supposed to get out of their assigned roles. First, I know they hate it that we get to go to college early and they don’t. Also, it probably makes the rich kids sick that a poor orphan is suddenly on ‘their level.’”
Beau nodded, hazel eyes twinkling. “That, and they’re jealous.”
“Jealous?” Akasha spluttered. “Where the fuck do you get that idea?”
He laughed. “Oh, honey, you’re so precious. Do you ever look in the mirror? Those bitches could overlook it when you were poor, but now…” he grinned. “We so need to take you shopping and get some sexy outfits to throw in their faces.”
Akasha’s cheeks heated. Did Silas think she was beautiful? She thrust the thought away. “I just got a shit-load of new clothes.”
Beau waved a dismissive hand. “I said ‘sexy clothes,’ not stuff like you wear all the time. Granted, those jeans are fabulous.”
Xochitl nodded. “They are, and you’re short enough that I could totally steal ‘em. Anyway, come smoke with us, ‘Kash.”
Akasha pasted on a wan smile and followed the Goths.
Shouts of, “Freaks” “Satan worshippers” and “Fag!” accompanied the five on their way outside. Akasha saw Beau’s shoulders tense at the last insult. Why the hell do kids have to be so cruel?
They piled into Xochitl’s battered blue 1980 Datsun 210. Xoch’ hadn’t been kidding. The engine really did putter. It was probably only running on three cylinders. Akasha frowned and dug out her pack of Camels. I gotta run a compression test on this poor baby, ASAP.
