by Lynsay Sands
Frowning, she glanced to Stephanie. "You're sure I'm a life mate for this spice guy?"
"Basil," Stephanie said, and then nodded solemnly. "I'm positive."
"Hmmph," Sherry said dubiously, and then glanced to the girl again with a start when Stephanie suddenly reached out and caught her hand again.
Eyebrows rising, Sherry leaned across the table when the girl tugged, turning her head when Stephanie leaned forward to whisper, "And he's here."
Sherry stiffened, eyes going wide, and then sat back abruptly as panic rushed in to fill every crevice of her body. He was here. Crap. What if he didn't like her? What if he didn't want her for his life mate? What if he preferred redheads, or skinny chicks, or--good God, what was she even doing here? She should be back at her store checking on people and taking care of that situation, not--
Her eyes shot back to Stephanie and she asked in a hiss, "Does he know you think I'm his life mate?"
"Yes."
"Crap," Sherry muttered as the girl glanced past her and smiled in greeting at someone obviously approaching the table.
Sherry forced herself not to look back like some spotty, eager teenager and simply sat there fighting the panic trying to overwhelm her. It was pretty strong, and for a minute she was torn between jumping up and making a run for it and ducking under the table to hide like a child . . . which was just madness. But really, the whole day had been mad so far. However, while she'd managed to remain relatively calm through the invasion of her store and the chase that had followed, Sherry feared she might actually hyperventilate over being examined as a prospective life mate. Seriously, the timing was just ridiculous, and--
Cutting off her thoughts, Sherry lowered her head, closed her eyes, and forced herself to take deep breaths. She was just starting to feel a little calmer when she sensed a presence standing at her side.
Raising her head, she automatically slid along the booth seat to make way even as Stephanie slid along the opposite booth seat. Sherry's gaze slid from the girl to the dark-haired young man now settling next to the teenager, wondering if he was this Basil person. If so, he wasn't her type. Dressed in black jeans and T-shirt with a leather jacket on, the guy looked like the stereotypical bad boy. Not her scene at all, she thought with something like relief. Stephanie was wrong, she was not a life mate to this man. But even as she began to relax, Stephanie gestured and said, "Sherry, this is Justin Bricker."
Sherry swallowed and nodded in greeting, her entire focus shifting to the heat emanating from the man now settling into the seat beside her. "And that's Basil Argeneau," Stephanie added.
Taking a deep breath, Sherry forced a smile and turned to peer at the man who was supposedly her life mate. She stared at him silently for a long moment, drinking him in.
Basil had blond hair, but golden blond, not the dirty blond of Leo and his boys. It was also cut short. The man had full lips, chiseled cheeks and chin, and the most incredible silver blue eyes she'd ever seen.
Her gaze dropped to what she could see of his body where he sat beside her, and she noted the wide shoulders under the dark, designer business suit, and that his stomach appeared super flat. But that was all she could tell with him sitting so close. It was enough. The guy was . . . well . . . jeez, he was a hotty.
"Definitely the pepperoni," she murmured.
"Excuse me?" Basil Argeneau said uncertainly.
Realizing what she'd said, Sherry flushed and shook her head. She had no intention of explaining that he was hot and spicy like Stephanie's pizza pepperoni. And he was. Certainly he was hotter than any guy she'd ever dated. This guy, though, looked younger than her thirty-two. Maybe twenty-five, she thought with concern, and then recalled Stephanie's claim that these vampires or immortals stopped aging at about twenty-five. Before she considered how rude the question might be, she blurted, "How old are you?"
His eyes widened slightly and then he simply said, "Old."
Sherry frowned at the vague answer and pressed, "Older than thirty-two?"
For some reason that made Justin Bricker snort with amusement.
When she glanced his way, he slid a cell phone out of his pocket, set it on the table and grinned at her as he suggested, "Try adding a couple of zeroes behind the thirty-two and you'll still be three hundred and forty-some years off."
Sherry frowned at the suggestion, not sure she believed him, but before she could question him on the matter, the brush of fingers along her arm made her glance quickly to Basil. His touch had sent a shiver of sensation down her arm, leaving goose bumps in its trail. Sherry unconsciously rubbed her arm in reaction and stared at him wide-eyed.
"Are you thirty-two, then?" Basil asked.
Sherry nodded.
"And you own your own store?" he asked. "A kitchenware store, I understand."
"Yes." Sherry sat a little straighter, reminding herself that she wasn't a breathless teenager, but a grown-up, successful businesswoman who had worked hard and was now reaping the rewards . . . which she got to pay half of to the government. The thought made her scowl again, which made Basil sit back slightly. Noting that, she smiled wryly and said, "Sorry. I was just thinking about my taxes."
If she had thought that would reassure him, she'd thought wrong. If anything it made him frown, and that was when Sherry realized it probably wasn't flattering to be talking to him and thinking of her taxes.
"Are you single?" she asked, to distract him from her momentary faux pas.
"Yes. You?" he asked politely.
"Mostly," she answered at once.
"Mostly?" he echoed, frowning even harder.
"Well, it's . . . I've been dating a guy, but it's just casual; dinner, a movie, the occasional business function. We aren't exclusive or anything," she assured him.
Basil nodded solemnly. "I am."
"You are what?" she asked uncertainly.
"Exclusive."
It was a simple word, but somehow carried the finality of a judge's gavel. Sherry was trying to sort out what it meant exactly, and how she should respond, when a chime sounded from the phone Justin had set on the table. She glanced his way as he picked it up.
He thumbed the screen, and then stood, saying, "Well, kids. You'll have to finish this 'get to know you' thing in the SUV. Nicholas says the street is clear at the moment and we have to get you out of here before Leo and his boys come back around."
Sherry glanced to Stephanie and then to Basil as he stood, noting the hand he was holding out to help her up. So gentlemanly, Sherry thought. She took the offered hand, startled by the tingle it sent through her fingers and up her arm. The man seemed to be full of static electricity. Probably didn't use Bounce in the dryer, she thought absently as he released her hand to take her elbow and usher her toward the front door of the pizza joint.
Sherry glanced over her shoulder as they went, relieved to see that Stephanie was right behind them with Justin on her heels. Sherry had started out trying to keep the girl safe, but suddenly felt like she was in over her head and Stephanie was the only lifeline she had. Weird.
"Here we are."
Sherry turned forward again as Basil urged her out of the pizzeria and to the back door of an SUV illegally parked in front of it. She allowed him to usher her inside, and busied herself doing up her seat belt before she risked looking at him again. He'd settled next to her and was buckling up as well, so she glanced to the front of the vehicle where Stephanie was doing the same in the passenger seat.
"Do we know if everyone was okay at the store?" she asked no one in particular as Justin Bricker got into the driver's seat.
"My daughter and Drina were headed there to take care of matters," Basil announced quietly. "They'll report when they are done, but I'm sure everyone is fine."
Sherry stared at him blankly. "Your daughter?"
"Katricia," he explained.
"Katricia who's getting married?" Sherry asked slowly.
He nodded and smiled faintly. "She met her life mate at Christmas."
&nb
sp; "Teddy, the police chief where Stephanie lives," Sherry said, recalling the girl's earlier words.
"Yes." He smiled. "She's settled in Port Henry with him and helping him police the town."
"Right," Sherry murmured, but she was trying to wrap her mind around the fact that this man--who looked no more than twenty-five--had a daughter old enough to marry anyone. She didn't care what Justin had said about adding two zeroes and so on, this man looked twenty-five. Clearing her throat, she asked, "And how old is your daughter?"
He paused and squinted toward the roof of the SUV briefly. "Well, let's see. She was born in 411 AD, so that makes her--"
"What?" Sherry squawked with amazement.
Basil blinked and glanced to her with surprise.
Forcing herself back to calm, she asked uncertainly, "You're kidding, right?"
"No," he said apologetically.
"Right." Sherry peered out the window. 411 AD. So if she got together with Basil, she'd have a stepdaughter who was . . . what? Sixteen hundred and some years old? Cripes. This was crazy.
"Do you have any children?"
"Good God, no!" Sherry blurted, jerking around in her seat to look at him with horror at the very suggestion. She wasn't married, for heaven's sake. Although, she supposed that wasn't necessary for having a child nowadays, but the very idea of having children was terrifying to her. She spent most of her time at the store, working ridiculously long hours. She couldn't imagine trying to raise a child, let alone more than one, with the schedule she kept. Maybe someday . . . when things were more settled . . .
Sighing, she shook her head and decided a change of subject was in order. "So how did you get named after a spice?"
Basil's lips quirked with amusement. "Stephanie mispronounced it. My name is Basil," he said, pronouncing it Baw-zil.
"Sorry," Steph said from the front seat. "Katricia always just refers to you as Father. It was Cheetah who told me your name. I guess he mispronounced it."
"Cheetah?" Sherry peered at her curiously.
"An American Enforcer who was delivering something or other to Mortimer," Stephanie explained, and then glanced to Basil and added, "I don't think he mispronounced your name on purpose. He's from Cleveland. All of his a's are pretty nasal."
When Basil merely nodded and then turned his attention back to her, Sherry forced a smile and said, "So it's Baw-zil, not Bay-sil?"
Basil nodded. "It's short for Basileios."
A car horn honked as he spoke, and she wasn't sure she'd heard right. Tilting her head, she asked, "Bellicose?"
"No, not 'bellicose,'" he said with a chuckle. "That is a temperament not a name. My name is Basileios." He spoke slowly and loudly this time to be sure she heard.
"Basileios," Sherry murmured, and then pursed her lips briefly as the name tickled her memory. "So you weren't named after a spice, but some big snake from Harry Potter? Nice."
He blinked. "A snake? What the devil are you talking about?"
"I think she's getting Basileios mixed up with basilisk," Stephanie said helpfully, turning in the front seat to grin at them.
"Basilisk, right," Sherry said with a smile, and then shrugged. "They sound very similar."
"They are not similar," he said grimly. "My name is 'Baw-sill-ee-os.'"
"Well, you said it fast the first time and it sounded kind of like 'basilisk,'" she said apologetically.
"It did kind of, didn't it?" Stephanie agreed.
"It did not," Basileios said indignantly.
Feeling herself relax a bit, Sherry teased, "Well, if you're going to go and get all bellicose about it, maybe we should just go with the spice and call you 'Bay-sil' after all," she said, pronouncing it like the spice. And then she whispered, "Or Pep."
Apparently, he had excellent hearing. Expression blank, he asked, "Pep?"
"Short for pepperoni," she explained with embarrassment.
"As in you're the pepperoni in her pizza," Stephanie said, and burst out laughing.
Basileios stared from one to the other blankly, and then asked Stephanie, "You're quite sure this woman is my match? There is no mistake?"
Stephanie laughed even harder at the question, but Sherry wrinkled her nose at the man. "Be nice, spice boy. I woke up this morning on earth. Five hours later I've stepped into the twilight zone. Cut me some slack here. I was just teasing you to let off a little steam."
"Hmmm," he murmured, and then allowed his eyes to rake down over her figure as he offered, "There are many much more pleasant ways to let off steam."
Sherry went completely still as images of some of those more pleasant ways suddenly flashed through her mind. They were hot and sweaty flashes of them naked, her head thrown back, neck exposed as his mouth and hands traveled over her naked body.
Cripes, the flashes were so real it was like they were doing it right then. Sherry's body actually responded as such, her breathing becoming low and shallow. Much to her dismay, her nipples even hardened and liquid pooled low in her belly and then rushed down to dampen her panties.
Flushing bright red, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat and then turned to peer steadfastly out the window as she tried to banish the images and her body's reaction to them.
Jeez, she'd never experienced anything like that before. She just wasn't the sort to have sexual fantasies about a virtual stranger. Heck, she'd never even had such powerful imaginings about anyone she ever dated. Truth be told, she hadn't known it was possible to turn yourself on with just a thought. And having them now, in the backseat of an SUV, with Stephanie, Justin, and Basil there . . . well. it was just embarrassing as all hell. It made her glad Stephanie couldn't read her thoughts. She hoped Basil and Justin couldn't either.
Sherry didn't get to worry over that long. Her eye was caught by a mane of dirty blond hair amid the pedestrians they were passing. Focusing, she recognized the man Stephanie had called Leonius. Surrounded by his boys, he was moving through a crowd just starting to cross the street, walking in the same direction they were driving. Even as she recognized him and thought his name, the man turned his head in their direction as if she'd called out to him. His eye caught Sherry's, and her heart stopped as recognition flared in his expression. Then the SUV turned right, away from him, and he was out of her line of vision.
Her breath suddenly caught in her chest, Sherry craned around in her seat as much as her seat belt allowed and sought out the man again, this time through the back window of the SUV. She immediately wished she hadn't when she saw him move to the first car stopped at the light behind them. Pulling the front door open, he dragged the driver out. His men were right there with him, opening the other doors and pulling out the passengers, in order to get in themselves. All but one passenger, she saw, as a woman tried to follow the others out of the vehicle's backseat but was forced back inside by the man with the ponytail, who slid in beside her. Then another of the men got in on the other side, trapping the woman.
"We have company," Basil said quietly beside her.
"I see him," Justin responded grimly, his eyes on the rearview mirror.
"That poor woman," Stephanie said unhappily, and Sherry glanced around to see that, like her, the girl was also staring out the back window of the SUV.
"Nicholas is behind them," Justin said as a dark SUV like the one they were in turned onto their street from the road they had come from. She guessed Nicholas had been watching and following for just this reason.
"Will he be able to save the woman in the car?" Sherry asked with concern even as she noted that there were two people in the SUV. The person in the passenger seat of Nicholas's SUV was a woman who appeared to have a phone in her hand. Justin's phone began to chime as Sherry saw the woman raise the phone to her ear.
"Jo?" Justin said, and Sherry glanced over her shoulder as he added, "Hang on. You're on speaker. Let me turn that off."
He picked up his phone, which he'd apparently set on the console between the front seats, hit a button, and then placed the phone to his ear. "Go
ahead."
Sherry's mouth tightened. She wasn't stupid, and doubted it was Stephanie or Basil he was concerned about overhearing both sides of the conversation. She was the reason he was taking the call off speakerphone. That could only mean he didn't think she'd like what was said.
"Yeah. I see them," Justin said. "No. I know we can't lead them back to the house."
Sherry turned again, to peer back at the vehicles behind them as she listened to the one-sided conversation. But she returned her gaze to Justin when he said with interest, "A trap? Yeah, that could work. Call Mortimer and have any of our people in the area head this way. He--Shit."
Sherry turned back to the road behind them in time to see the car Leo had hijacked suddenly veer off down a side street. The second SUV, with Nicholas driving, immediately followed, as their own SUV slowed. For a moment Sherry thought Justin was going to turn around and follow the hijacked car too, but then he grunted something into the phone and picked up speed again, the SUV continuing in the direction they'd been headed.
"They're going to follow him and see if they can corner the bastard," Justin announced, tossing the phone onto the console again.
No one commented, and Sherry settled back in her seat and simply glanced from person to person in the SUV. They were all silent, seeming lost in their thoughts. They were also all grim-faced, and Sherry suspected she was as well. This Leonius person was a scary dude. She was glad he'd turned off, away from them, but was now worried about the poor unknown woman who had been trapped in the other car. She hoped Nicholas and Jo could help her.
Three
"Ah crap."
Sherry glanced curiously to Stephanie at those muttered words. They had driven through gates with armed guards just moments ago, wended their way up a long snaking driveway, and were now pulling up in front of a large house. Sherry had been gaping over the size of the building, but now noted Stephanie's pained expression and followed her gaze to the front door and the man who had just stepped outside. He was blond like Basil, but his hair was more platinum than golden. He was also tall, and well built in the tight jeans and T-shirt he wore. His features were similar to Basil's, and like him, he was attractive, or could have been if his expression hadn't been so grim. He looked mean.
