Warders, Volume Two

by Mary Calmes

  “But I got to watch you lose yourself with what I was doing to you, and we both know I’m the only one that you trust enough to abandon every inhibition you have.”

  “Yes.”

  “Kiss me,” I ordered.

  The way he lifted for me, parting his lips, licking them…. His desire to submit was intoxicating. I ground my mouth down over his and laid claim. I devoured him.

  I kissed him until he shoved me off, breathless, his lips red and swollen, and as I nibbled down the side of his throat, licked and sucked, he began to writhe in my arms. In seconds the movement, the pressure, the friction would be too much. I stepped away fast, leaving him gripping the wall behind him, and I wiped my hands on my pants.

  I stared, certain that I really would have him there in the alley if we didn’t stop.

  “Marcus,” he said between breaths.

  “Sorry.” I managed to get out. “We need to just—”

  “Is there a mark on me?” he asked, twisting his head so the cords in his neck bulged.

  I shook my head, trying to get my racing heart to calm down and my cock to stop throbbing. Anywhere else, with anyone else, never, ever, would there be a problem. Only Joe released this wave of lust that I couldn’t contain.

  “Use your words, Marcus.”

  Shit. “No.” I cleared my throat, shivering. “There’s no mark.”

  His eyes became narrow slits of heat. “Then make one.”

  I almost swallowed my tongue.

  “Please,” he whispered.

  The idea of shoving the man deep into the alley and bending him over and fucking him hard and fast had me choking on my own desire.

  “Let’s go get your scarf,” I rasped.

  “Fuck the scarf.”

  “Let’s just go get it and then find a hotel like you said,” I grumbled, pushing back against the wall, counting in my head, willing my body to calm to be cool, normal and thoughtful Marcus Roth.

  “Look at me.”

  I was. He looked debauched, pants down around his ankles—underwear as well—and hooded eyes, standing there with his flaccid cock still leaking at the tip. He should not have been in control of any part of the conversation. But he was so self-possessed that even though he was the one who had been ravished, it didn’t matter.

  “When you fuck me back at home, I want you to leave marks, you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  His face brightened. “Good.”

  I growled and he beamed back at me. He loved to win.

  When I walked back into Joe’s father’s hardware store five minutes later, I left Joe outside to wait for me. The jingle of bells again announced my arrival, and I was surprised that the two guys I had seen leave when we arrived earlier were back. What was even more interesting was that one of them was behind the counter with Elliot.

  “Marcus.” Elliot smiled. “What brings you back, son?”

  “Joe forgot his scarf.” I squinted at him.

  “Oh.” Elliot forced a smile, looking around. “Isn’t that it right there?”

  He pointed and I saw it, the primary-color knitted beacon of a scarf one of his employees had made him. When I picked it up, I looked back at Elliot and saw again how uncomfortable he looked.

  “Who are your friends?” I asked.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but apparently the guy on my side of the counter had had enough of my presence and the interruption.

  “Why don’t you get out of here before I put you out. We have things to discuss with Mr. Locke here.”

  I nodded as I moved forward. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

  “Marcus,” Elliot interrupted, tipping his head toward the door. “Go on and catch up with Joe, son. This doesn’t concern you.”

  “Oh, but it really does,” I said, moving forward until I was beside the counter and turning my head to the guy beside me. “What’s your name?”

  “Why the fuck you wanna know?”

  I arched an eyebrow.

  “Arcan.”

  My head turned to the guy beside Elliot.

  He scoffed. “Emir.”

  One name. Both of them only had single names. Interesting. I returned my gaze to Arcan. “Okay, tell Emir to come out here and talk to me. Him being back there with my father-in-law is making me nervous.”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I asked nicely,” I told him, moving fast—faster than either Arcan or Emir could track—and cleared the counter to stand in front of Emir in seconds. I was in his space, nose to nose, so he had no choice but to take a step back. “I really did.”

  “You have no idea who you’re messing with,” Arcan barked.

  “Marcus, please just go,” Elliot pleaded.

  “Whoever you’re collecting protection money for,” I told them, “Mr. Locke is done paying.”

  “Marcus,” Elliot’s voice cracked. “You have to go or they’ll hurt—”

  “They won’t hurt anyone,” I promised him.

  “Oh yeah, we will,” Emir assured me, and I saw his eyes suddenly change from the ugly dishwater blue they were to an even uglier blood red.

  “No!” Elliot yelled. “Please don’t hurt him.”

  I felt Joe’s father pleading for my life all the way down to my soul. The man really did love me.

  “Too late,” the second guy said as his eyes changed too and he reached for me.

  I took a breath, held it for one heartbeat, two, and then released a pulse of power that froze both men in their tracks.

  “That’s bullshit,” the first guy said.

  It was not exactly the response I was expecting, but they stopped moving nonetheless.

  “Breka paid fuckin’ Tarin this month; you ain’t supposed to be here.”

  Tarin? “I don’t know him.”

  “How?” Now Arcan was confused.

  “I’m visiting,” I told him. “And I’m not alone, and I can assure you that when my sentinel finds out what’s going on here, the council will be notified.”

  They both went even paler than they were to begin with.

  I wanted them out because I had calls to make, because I knew I needed backup. “Go now.”

  “Or?” Emir asked.

  “Or I can make you.”

  I was not the scary warder. My friend Malic, with his growl of a voice, bulging muscles, and arctic blue eyes—he was spooky. Even though I was big, I normally came off as benign. But the two demons tripped over themselves getting out of the hardware store.

  When the door slammed behind them, the bells having never been so loud, I turned to look at Joe’s father.

  “How do you not tell me that you had demon trouble, Elliot?”

  His eyes, that wondrous cerulean blue he shared with his son, were huge.

  “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

  The man was speechless, just staring at me.

  “I can help, but you have to tell me everything.”

  “Marcus.” He finally breathed out my name, grabbing hold of my arms. “What are you?”

  “He’s a warder, Dad,” Joe said, and when I turned my head, I realized that he was there along with his mother and sister. The bells had been loud, and it made sense that Elliot’s family had been coming in while the two demons were running out. I just hadn’t noticed. “And I’m thinking you need one.”

  “What are you two doing here?” I asked Joe’s mother and Barbara, scared for them, startled because I had not prepared for them. I had been ready to protect Joe—I always was—and his father at that pivotal moment, but I had not anticipated the women, and it made me nervous that I had not.

  “I forgot to get the zip ties to hold up the banner, and I thought we’d stop and grab them, and… what in the world is going on?” Deb yelled.

  “They ran from you.” Elliot said, all his focus locked in on me, holding me so tight.

  “Which was smart on their part,” I told him. “Because I would have sent them both back to the pit if I’d had my swords.” />
  “You didn’t bring your swords?”

  I looked over at Joe because I heard the alarm, the indignation. Joe didn’t get upset and reel with pain or worry, he yelled. And he was mad.

  “Why the hell would you leave your swords at home?”

  “Think about what you’re saying,” I reminded my boyfriend.

  “No, Marcus!” he shouted. “You should have brought them! You should always bring them! Being a warder is twenty-four-hour, seven-day-a-week job, and we both know it!”

  Shit.

  “You know I’m right.”

  He was right.

  “Say it, because I can’t see the look of resignation on your face!”

  I crossed the room and grabbed him instead. His arms wrapped around my waist as he pressed his body against mine.

  “Please,” he spoke into my throat, his breath warm and his mouth on my skin, causing a shiver of anticipation anyone could see. “Baby, you have to be more careful. I can’t lose you, okay?”

  I nodded. He clutched me tighter.

  And we stood like that with my cheek resting on the top of his head, one hand in his hair, the other around his back and both his arms wrapped tight around me. He always liked listening to the steady beat of my heart.

  “Marcus Adam Roth!”

  I started and looked across the room at Deb.

  “Oh, you’re in trouble.” Joseph chuckled, lifting his chin. “Gimme a kiss before you die.”

  I growled, kissed him, and then turned my head to his mother.

  “How dare you keep a secret like this from us, from your family!”

  “I—”

  “And you!” she roared at her husband. “How dare you not trust me with this?”

  “I thought you’d think I was nuts talking about demons and such.”

  “We have been married for forty-five years, Elliot Locke. There is nothing that would come out of your mouth that I wouldn’t believe!”

  He stared at her because he had no excuse to give her.

  “All of you,” she said fast, “need to go get in the car so we can go home and have us a talk.”

  Joe groaned.

  I pressed his face into my chest before his mother killed him. “His stomach hurts,” I told her.

  She leveled me with her look. “Marcus Roth, I’m about ready to skin you alive.”

  But the thing was, she was mad, really mad, and I loved it. There was no talk of how scared she was and how I was putting her son in danger or how I should get out. She was just mad that I hadn’t confided in her.

  I moved fast, crossed the floor, and grabbed her, hugging her tight.

  “Marcus,” she whimpered against me, her arms around me, and her hands digging into my back.

  “I thought you would hate me or not want me near Joe, and I’m so sorry, but I love you all so much and the thought of losing you, any of you, just—”

  “Marcus, don’t be stupid. We’re your family. Families don’t turn their back on their own.”

  I clutched her tighter and put my head down in her shoulder.

  Seconds later she pushed free. “But you, Elliot Locke!”

  “Yeah, you’re toast.” Joe laughed at his father.

  “Joseph Locke!”

  And it was a free-for-all after that as Barbara started yelling too. It was nice to be part of a family that cared.

  IN THE van it was quiet, so I took that opportunity to call Jael.

  “Marot,” he said, and I realized he sounded annoyed.

  Marot. It was my warder name.

  Some of us had special names, some of us didn’t. The more public a figure you were, the more likely you would get a call sign to protect your identity, and while I understood, it was also confusing at times.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he grumbled.

  But something was, and I could guess. “Your warders and Deidre’s not hitting it off?”

  There was a long silence.

  “What leads you to that?”

  I grunted. “Ryan and Collin, right?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I know.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s simple. Collin’s taken an interest in Julian, and Ryan and Julian are like a minute old as a couple. Ryan’s jealous, that’s all.”

  “Ryan Dean used to be a model. Why in the world would he—”

  “Have you ever known Ryan to be logical?”

  “No, that’s Leith’s job.”

  “There you go.”

  “Well, Marot, let me go put my house in order and I’ll call you—wait, you called me. What’s wrong?”

  “I have demon trouble.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “And maybe warder trouble as well.”

  “Start at the beginning.”

  I explained, and he listened and grunted. I heard him cover the phone to talk to someone, and when he came back he told me that he was having Deidre make some calls as we spoke. It was nice to have two sentinels as backup.

  “What should I do?”

  “For starters, I’ll send someone to you immediately. It sounds as though you’ve disrupted the flow of things around there, and I don’t know if Tarin is a demon or a warder, but there’s a warder in there somewhere, and he’s either doing this himself or the corruption stems from his sentinel.”

  “How likely is that?”

  “Not very, but we still have to act on the assumption that this is the case.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let me do this. Let me contact the council now and see what I can find out about the sentinel, and I’ll call you back in a few minutes. Meanwhile I’ll send Leith to stay with you.”

  I would have preferred my best friend. “I think I’ll just call Malic to—”

  “No.”

  But he’d said it too fast. “What’s wrong?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Jael?”

  He cleared his throat. “Malic and Jackson are on another plane with Raphael. He found Moira. She was the demon lord Saudrian’s mate, you remember.”

  I remembered that Saudrian had tried to turn Leith into his champion and that Raphael had killed him. And I knew that Moira had vowed to kill Raphael, who was my fellow warder Jackson’s hearth, for being the one to take her mate’s life.

  “Why would you let Raphael get anywhere near her?”

  “As you know, Raphael is a demonic bounty hunter, and apparently one of his contacts let him know where Moira was. Since Jackson was not going to let him go alone, he went with him. But Malic wasn’t letting Jackson follow without backup, so he went to keep both of the others safe.”

  It was just like Malic to go. He would never say he cared; he would just show it instead. I felt a pang of guilt for being away.

  “Ryan and I are here to guard the city, so Leith can come assist you.”

  “I should be at home.”

  “You should be with your hearth, and especially now, as it sounds like both he and his family—your family—are in danger. Let me know if you need Ryan to come as well.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I’ll send Leith to you shortly.”

  “Thank you. Ask him to bring my swords. Please keep me apprised of the other situation.”

  “Of course.”

  “You say that like you would have told me if I hadn’t called.”

  “Malic made me promise not to. He wanted you to enjoy your time with Joe.”

  Which again was just like him. Malic never came out and said that my happiness, or that of my hearth’s, meant anything to him. But he showed it.

  “Please keep me in the loop.”

  “I will.”

  I hung up and let my head fall back.

  “Are you all right?”

  Turning to look at Joe, I exhaled deeply. “There’s trouble at home.”

  “Like what kind?”

  “Like I should be there.”

  Joe took a breath and squeezed my kne
e. “Let’s just deal with this problem with my dad, and then we’ll fly home.”

  I shook my head. “No, Joe, that’s not what I—”

  “Marcus.” He cut me off, taking my hand. “Everyone will understand a work emergency, and why would I stay here if you couldn’t come back? I need to be with you, especially if you’re going to be putting yourself in danger. A warder has to be able to return to his hearth and home to be cared for and find sanctuary and draw power. I understand my role, and it’s as vital to me as it is to you. I love you and I know my value. But I can’t leave my family in danger, and I know you can’t, either. So let’s handle this and then go home so you can fight alongside your brothers.”

  He was decisive and firm and absolute. It was hard to contain my love for him, because really, the man was phenomenal.

  “Just say, ‘Yes, Joe, I agree.’”

  “Yes, Joe, I agree,” I sighed.

  “I go with you, Marcus. Don’t be stupid.”

  Of course he did.

  IV

  WE WERE all sitting in the living room when the doorbell rang. Barbara went to get it, and when she came back less than a minute later, she had a strange expression on her face. The reason was obvious a second later; Leith Haas was trailing after her and she seemed a bit overwhelmed.

  I understood why.

  He was shorter than me—most men were—but not small. At six two, long and lean-muscled, the man was not someone you looked at and thought delicate or fragile.

  “Hey,” I greeted him, rising from the couch.

  He didn’t hold out his hand or try to hug me. He simply passed me a scabbard with dual sheaths, and I took it, feeling instantly calmer now that I could defend myself and everyone I loved.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled as he moved beside me to bend over and hug Joe.

  Everyone saw him do it, and their faces all broke into similar smiles.

  “This is Leith Haas,” I explained to the room, “and he’s a warder just like me. Leith, this is Joe’s family: his father, Elliot, his mother, Deb, and his sister, Barb.”

  Leith smiled, and I watched Barbara, especially, react to the dark aqua-blue eyes, the way he curled a long piece of hair behind his ear and the play of muscles under his clothes. There was no missing the man’s beauty, but what I had always admired more was his gentleness, the quiet and calmness that he spread, and how thoughtful he was. Leith tended to think before acting, and I appreciated that quality about him.