by April Zyon
“No.” Mikhail did up his seatbelt and kicked his feet out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. After folding his hands over his stomach, he relaxed and closed his eyes. For all intents and purposes, he looked like he was already asleep.
“Okay, how about I tell you one instead? Did you know that before today, most animals actually liked me? I mean, those dogs that attacked, they don’t really count as animals, do they? If so, then I think that I need to scratch that off my list of things that I excel at, and that would be just plain sad, because the list is pretty short.” Camilla could shoot an arrow with deadly accuracy, but what kind of worth was that in today’s world? She was good at her job, or so she thought. She loved kids, any and all children, but aside from those things, she felt totally unremarkable, which was what prompted her to say, “Are you sure that they were there for me and not one of the other teachers? Sure, I was the only one in the lot, but that’s because I stayed way later than I typically do. Perhaps one of the janitors? I mean, I’m really a nobody.”
“They were there for you,” he said. Oddly enough, his lips didn’t seem to move a whole lot. Neat trick. “Otherwise they would have been in the other parking lot waiting for the other staff. Since you were the only teacher left, with your car being the only one in that lot, they were targeting you. And they were wolves, not dogs, though they are of the same genus. You should buckle up, we’re about to take off.”
Cocking her head, she mimed him just the way that some of her kids in her class would her some days, when they didn’t think she could see them. She mimicked his words silently just as a five-year-old would, and couldn’t seem to stop herself. Camilla was attracted to the men, both men, and wasn’t in the smallest bit ashamed of herself for it.
She couldn’t seem to stop touching them and sleeping on them Camilla felt oddly connected to them. And that butt of Mikhail’s, holy mother. Wow. Again, she stopped to fan herself. Yep, she felt seriously screwed, and not in a good way, either.
“Mocking me won’t do any good,” Mikhail told her.
Just then, the engines roared to life and one of the men shut the door, locking them inside the jet. He moved to the pilot’s door and knocked on it. “We’re all buttoned up, take us up.”
“Mocking you made me feel better.” She grumbled and snuggled up against Mikhail’s arm. “I think I’m going to catch a nap.” Before she fell asleep, she lifted the chair arm between them, moved in closer to him, and sighed. “Would be easier to sleep on you without the vest, but that’s okay. I slept on Gareth’s, so I can sleep on yours.” She hooked a hand on one of the front pockets of his vest, and was shortly out cold. Again.
Chapter Five
When next Camilla woke, it was silent around her. She still leaning against someone, who had an arm around her shoulders, but dead silence hung in the air. Upon opening her eyes, she found eleven men peering at her curiously.
“About time,” someone said.
“She sure does fall asleep a lot faster than even Mikhail can,” another commented.
“Well, it was either that or embarrass myself.” She nestled in closer to the heat surrounding her. “I’m far too comfy to move. And none of you introduced yourselves other than Wyatt and Gareth. I found out who Mikhail was from Gareth.” She cracked her eyes open and looked to the men. “So come on, gentlemen—names. I know you had to have been raised better than that.”
“No names,” someone said. He stood and jerked his head. “Everyone off. You have twenty minutes to shower and change, then we need to be in the conference room. Move!”
When the others filed out, he moved closer to her. “I mean no disrespect, Ms. Berry. But no one should have introduced themselves to you at all. It’s against protocol unless you are cleared for that information.” After spinning on his heel, he scooped up a bag and disembarked the plane.
Camilla watched the man and felt an instant chill. Fabulous—she had just gotten everyone in trouble. In her pique of anger, Camilla grumbled and kicked a seat, only to hop around and hold her foot. “Son of a biscuit-eating, goat-herding monkey, that smarts.” She rubbed her toes and—when she could walk without falling on her face—headed off the plane. “Maybe they left Tic Tacs for me as a trail. Oh, or better yet, Big Macs.” Her stomach growled.
“You talk too much,” a deep voice said behind her. When she spun, she lost her balance, but he managed to catch her and right her with very quick reflexes. It was Mikhail. Shit. He was eyeing her like she’d grown a second head or something. “You also shouldn’t kick inanimate objects, it serves absolutely no purpose.” With a hand on her back, Mikhail guided her through the hangar, then through a door and down a hallway.
“Holy balls,” she muttered. “You are way too freaking quiet. I think I need to put bells on you or something. I didn’t know you were still there.” And now she felt even more stupid.
“Where else would I be?” Mikhail asked. “You can try to put bells on me, but it won’t work. You’d still never know I was there.” He pushed open a door and ushered her inside a bedroom, which had a small table and a chair and not much else. Mikhail tossed his bag onto his bed and propped the rifle carefully against the wall. “Grab a seat, I need to shower and get changed out of this gear before our meeting.” He undid the vest and the various other straps, all of which were holding weapons.
He had brought her to his room? Oh, for heaven’s sakes. Once more, Camilla was fanning herself, but she didn’t stop watching him. “So.” She croaked out the singular word. “So you are really that good?” The look he shot her told her everything. Hell yes, he was that good, and so much more!
He sat on a chair and began to unlace his boots. Once he had them off, he moved to the bed and dug in his bag to pull out what she assumed was some clean clothing. “Stay put. Wandering around here without one of us will get you thrown to the ground, put in cuffs, and thrown in the brig. And they aren’t all that nice about it, either.” He snatched a towel off the back of the door. “I’ll be back in five,” he said as he headed into the bathroom.
She wanted to ask if she could join him but didn’t. It took everything in her to literally sit on her hands and just nod when he told her not to move. Alone, she let out the breath she was holding and closed her eyes. She rubbed her temples, feeling in over her head.
Holy hell, she was so lost—and missing. Camilla needed a phone. She didn’t have much family, but the one relative she did have, she needed to call. She needed to assure him that she hadn’t fallen off the face of the Earth. Her uncle was a bit silly at times when it came to her safety and her checking in, and more than likely he was sitting at the police station now filing a report.
Camilla moved to the door that Mikhail had left through and knocked. “Umm, Mikhail? I need to make a phone call, and since my phone is in my purse, I need to use yours. If not, I’m afraid that I have a relative who might be a little more than grumbly.”
The water shut off, and silence came from the other side of the door. Then it cracked open enough to show her way too much male covered by way too small a towel. A very wet male. He gave her an irritated look and an equally irritated sigh. “Pocket of my duffel. Near the handle. You can use that. Lock code is 4-6-2-2-4-7-9-1-1-0. But keep it short and do not tell anyone where you are or what has happened to you,” he said, and shut the door again.
Shaking herself out of her daze, Camilla moved to the duffel and pulled out a phone. She dialed her Uncle Aaron’s number by memory. “Uncle Aaron. It’s Camilla.” As if he didn’t know that. “I wanted to call and let you know I’m okay.”
“Of course you are, why wouldn’t you be?” Aaron asked her in his deep voice. “Is there anything you need to tell me? Because you know you can, no matter what it is. I’m here for you, sweetheart, now and always.”
Oh, there were a lot of things she needed to tell him, but she didn’t think she could until she was right in front of him. “Nope. Not a single thing.” Camilla hated to lie to him; it felt like a punch
in the gut when she did. Feeling guilty, she added, “At least, not now? I can’t talk right now, but I promise as soon as I can I will call you back, okay? Just don’t freak when they find my car at the school, okay?” Oh crap, what to tell him? “I, uh. I met a man?” It was said like a question more than anything, because she absolutely sucked at lying, and they both knew it. “I have to go. I love you, Uncle Aaron. Be good, and please, for the love of God, don’t get into another fight with your online Wargaming buddies.” She disconnected the call before he could retort. The man had a serious, almost eerie thing for strategy and wars, but then again, he had taught her to shoot a bow. He had also told her that it was okay the animals liked her as they did, so she went with it. At least he didn’t think Camilla was crazy, even if she thought that he might have a screw or five loose at times.
After she hung up, Mikhail came out of the bathroom. Still towel-drying what little hair he had on his head, he was fully clothed, except for shoes. Tossing the towel onto the bed, he sat down and pulled his boots back on. “Did you get ahold of whomever you needed to call?”
“I did, thank you for letting me call him. He gets a little anxious if anything happens to me. I had a small little cut one day and you would have thought that the world caved in.” Granted, the small little cut had required five staples and twenty-three stitches, but hey, who was counting, right? “So, now do you take me off so that I can be debriefed, whatever that means, and so that I can get clearance to know your name without it being a criminal offense?”
He stood up and stomped his feet before looking at her. He moved closer, plucked the phone from her hand, and dropped it into his pocket. “Now we go to the debrief, and then you get the same forty questions asked of you for four hours straight. After that, they decide what to do with you, and whether you get to know the rest of our names. Just so you know, there will be someone else there to listen in. He’s not the sort to piss off, so keep the answers short and to the point. No rambling.”
“Sounds like a plan, I think,” she said with a frown. “Right, you’re telling me not to ramble?” She was so toast. “I swear that I must have hurt someone in a previous life or something, because you asking me to not ramble is like asking Niagara Falls not to be wet.”
He just looked at her. For a long time. “Okay, let me put it to you this way. The people that will be asking and listening to the questions are the sort that have the authority to put a bullet through your head and bury you in the backyard. You will cease to exist. This place doesn’t exist. None of us exist. Are you getting my drift? Because if you think I’m scary, you really aren’t going to like who’s going to be in that room with you.”
“But I don’t think you’re scary,” Camilla admitted softly. “You remind me a heck of a lot of my Uncle Aaron, but you don’t scare me. Neither does Gareth. The others, I don’t know. Especially the one that barked the orders at the end. Now him, he scares me,” she said with a nod. But I’ll try to be good. I really don’t look good with bullet holes in me. It’s so last year’s look.”
“You are in so much trouble,” he muttered. Taking her arm, he led her out of the room and up a hall, down another, through a room with a few people sitting around, another hall, through a large area that sort of looked like a reception area and then, yup, another hall. Finally, they reached a set of doors with armed soldiers on either side. They both snapped their heels together and saluted when she and Mikhail got close enough. Mikhail just nodded, and the one on the right opened the door for them to go through. Right into a board room that would rival even the biggest of corporate boardrooms for style, comfort, and décor.
“Oh crap.” She moved slightly closer to Mikhail. She couldn’t help herself. The men that were in the shadows scared the hell out of her, and she didn’t hesitate to allow herself to feel that fear. “Uhm, hi?” She waved. Mikhail planted her on a seat. Not being asked to have a seat, but placed in one, had her fear ratcheting up another notch. “Crapballs.” Camilla looked over the shiny, polished surface of the boardroom table and gulped.
Mikhail squeezed her shoulder before turning to talk to someone that moved up closer to him. She couldn’t see the man around his large frame, but knew the guy was dressed all in black. Leather?
“You got her without any trouble?” the deep voice asked. One that sounded eerily familiar.
“They were waiting for her, but we got her out without her having any contact with them,” Mikhail said to the man.
“Good, very good,” the voice said. Why did it sound so damn familiar?
Unable to help herself, and since she was likely a dead woman anyway, she twisted in her chair and looked up. “Uncle Aaron?” she asked in shock, pushing the chair back and tossing herself into his arms. “What in the name of God are you doing here? Wait, they didn’t hurt you, did they?” She faced off with the men at the table. “He’s to be left out of this. He doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Uncle Aaron?” Gareth asked, before he burst out laughing. Several of the other men from the plane were chuckling as well.
Mikhail just shot her a look. She didn’t catch the meaning behind it, though.
“Oh, shut up,” Aaron said to Gareth. “She’s always known me by that, and that is all fine and good. But now that she’s been involved in this war, she has a right to know the truth.” He sat next to her. “Camilla, sweetie, no one brought me here. I came myself. I’ve been working with these men for the last four years to get them ready to battle the weres and vampires. There’s a war brewing. These men are the best there is, and were asked to volunteer. So, here we are. Oh, and”—he made a face—“my name’s not actually Aaron.”
“Vampires? Seriously? The only war that you know about is that ding-darn game that you play.” Then she went pale. Something she had heard that night filtering into her brain. “Crapballs. They’re your war game buddies, aren’t they? But there was no Gareth or Mikhail. I would remember those names. You used weird names for them.” She swallowed harder and whispered, “Wolf, Gunner, Magnum, Orion.” She felt dizzy and pinched the meaty part of her hand between her thumb and first finger. “Oh God,” she whispered. “That’s why that name felt familiar when I heard someone say it.” She’d heard someone on the comms commenting about someone named Wolf. “What in the name of God have you gotten into, Uncle Aaron? Vampires?”
“Camilla, honey, you need to breathe.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “It’s not a game—it never has been. This is war. And to keep you and the humans safe, I’ll damn well do anything it takes. Also, sweetie, it’s Ares, not Aaron. I gave you that name to make it seem a little more normal, but my name’s actually Ares. God of War, Ares,” he said as he watched her closely.
“What?” Camilla was going to pass out. “Maybe I did hit my head and this is my version of Oz.” She clenched her uncle’s hand, though. A tear traced down her cheek and she whispered, “So, you aren’t my uncle?”
Why that hurt the most, she didn’t know, but damn if it didn’t. She couldn’t cling to the whole God of War thing—no, Camilla focused on the fact that he wasn’t her uncle. The man she had loved all her life, the man who had been there for as long as she could remember and taught her everything about life. Why that part struck her so hard and not the whole God part was almost laughable, but that was simply who she was. The dogs and bloodsuckers she would roll with, but losing her last living relative, a man she had grown up with and had been more a father than anything? Yeah, not so much.
“Actually, I am your uncle, just a couple more times removed than you thought. It’s complicated, but I’m your family, Camilla. I always will be, sweetheart,” he said. Tugging her closer, he wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her back. “I love you, and you are my family. I never, ever wanted you to be involved in this and prayed that you wouldn’t be, but obviously, that didn’t do much good, did it?”
She hugged him back and sighed. “Well, at least now I know that you aren’t crazy. I honestly began to worry th
ere for a minute.” She pulled back. Her smile was teasing. “You realize that it’s going to be like, whoa, hard for me to call you Ares, right? When I’ve been calling you Uncle Aaron all my life.” She shot a look to the snickering men. “No laughter from the peanut gallery, most of which I don’t flipping know,” she added. “Uncle Aa…” She caught herself. “Uncle Ares, you taught me manners. Why in the name of Hades haven’t you taught them manners?” She frowned and then tilted her head. “Wait. Is Hades real?” She tried to think of the people she’d met and shivered. “Harry? Is he Hades? Oh, lord love a duck.”
“Is she always like this?” one of the men asked.
“Usually,” Ares said with a smile for her. “Honey, Hades is locked in Tartarus. He can’t come to the surface. Yet. That’s what we’re trying to prevent. My uncle is more than a little off his rocker, and not in a funny-relative way. He fully plans on making Hell on Earth a reality, not just a saying. You’ve never met Hades—no one outside of the gods have. We locked him away a very long time ago. Unfortunately, he has his own team wreaking havoc up here. The weres and vampires are part of Team Bad Guy. Harry is Hephaestus, the gods’ weapons maker. Who is also a little off his rocker, now that I think about it. But at least he’s one of the good guys.”
He looked to the men in the room. “As to manners, military training overrides manners every time, and they know as well as I do that the wrong thing said at the wrong time can get people killed. They were given orders not to give out any information if possible. The fact you got three names out of them is a miracle, and I obviously need to reiterate the rules to them.”
