by Dannika Dark
A fork bounced across the table. “You want to use her as bait?” Adam was hot.
“Question my intent once and I will overlook it,” Logan bit out, “but question it twice, and the gloves are off.”
“Does anyone want to hear what I think?” I stood in my short black dress by the chair and raked them over with my eyes. “There has been too much planning around something that involved me—that is not involving me. You have nothing on him right now outside of juicing. He’s smart, and if he suspects that we’re after him, he’ll cover his tracks.”
“Learner,” Justus warned.
“Let her finish.”
I flicked my eyes suspiciously to Logan.
“I also think—and no offense Knox—that sending a human to find Marco was a mistake. Oh, and the plan with Sunny crawling back to him? Anyone who’s met Sunny knows how headstrong she is. She would never do anything like that. Why didn’t you just send a parade announcing your intention? Have you ever heard of the Trojan horse? Hell, some of you are old enough that you were probably in it.”
Simon threw back his head and laughed.
“Marco only met me once in my human form. There’s a good chance he has no idea that I’m physically different, so that puts me at an advantage. I can get close to him.”
I sat down hard, tempted to drink my glass of wine to the bottom, but I simply ran my finger around the rim. “I know enough about the benefactor to use that knowledge. Marco doesn’t know me. I am the Trojan horse. Put me in with Marco and I’ll get the information we need. If you continue to tiptoe on his turf, he’s going to catch on. I’m a female Mage, so that could get me close enough. I can help if you just give me a chance.”
I polished off my wine.
A chair slid back and all eyes went to Novis, who rose to his feet. At that point, it was safe to assume I had royally overstepped my bounds as a Learner, insulted a Council member, embarrassed my Ghuardian, made Knox feel like a dipshit, and…
“Fellow Mage,” he spoke, resting his fingertips against the table. “I’m honored to see the beginnings of this Learner. Silver is a worthy addition to the Mageri; wisdom does not always come with age.” His eyes locked on Justus. “The weight that holds us down is that of an obese ego. I can offer no advice, nor do I care to listen to these conversations any further this evening, as a member of the Council should have no part. Make your decisions wisely, and I hope that you will see that this Learner has more to offer us than delicious fajitas.” Novis flashed a smile at me and winked. “And they are delicious, by the way.”
I dreaded what Justus would say. My speaking out was a direct reflection on his ability to teach me properly. Instead, he looked on me with pride. Any compliment to me went indirectly to my Ghuardian.
When I looked back to Novis, I found myself staring at a churro. Logan waved it in a circular motion playfully as he turned it around and shoved it in his mouth.
Chapter 18
Early the next morning, I joined Justus in the training room downstairs. Simon and Logan were borderline food coma, and I needed to get some practice in. Usually I just worked out, but I felt like buffing up some of my skills. The room had weights and an open mat where we sparred. Down here, we had electricity illuminating the weapons mounted on the wall—mostly knives. I focused on strength building and agility, and occasionally he taught me a new move. Justus had all the moves, and mastered how to concentrate energy to an explosive degree. Some of the older ones learned a trick of balling up energy and using it for a single burst. It looked like a vanishing act, and I saw him do it outside of a bar once.
Four hours in, Justus finally broke the silence.
“I agree to this.”
I tossed a dry towel and he caught it, wiping sweat from his neck and face. After a hard workout, his skin took on a sunburned appearance.
“Agree to what?” I sucked down half a bottle of water and bent over.
“I want to know why my maker is involved. He led Samil to you,” he said angrily. “This is not the man that taught me about morals and obligations.” Justus threw the towel to the floor. “He was a Mage of honor. Regardless of the path he has chosen, I do not believe he would physically harm you. However, you will not meet him unprepared. I will teach you his weaknesses.”
“You don’t think I can hold my own?”
His steel blue eyes met mine. “I never doubted your courage, only your obedience.”
I loved the big guy, despite everything, and a mischievous smile crept over my face. Through my peripheral, I memorized the location and distance of his wrist so I could pull him off balance. My Ghuardian was too clever for my whims of insanity and fell into a fighting stance.
We circled each other.
“I will fight as Marco does. Pay attention and learn from me.” His bare feet slid over the mat, and I concentrated on his intent through subtle movements.
Justus moved like a warrior on a battlefield. It was strange to think my Ghuardian had spent years of training under Marco as a Learner. I was so used to seeing him as the man in charge that I forgot he was once himself a student.
His incredible movements made my head spin.
I bent over as he was reaching for my arm, and he clipped me in the mouth by accident. There was no time to think as he pursued me until I was cornered. I couldn’t gain any distance between us. These were not Justus’s tactics; the style was aggressive.
I kicked off the wall with a flash of energy and threw myself over him, using his shoulder for balance. It took months to learn how to manipulate my flashing abilities, and most of the time I landed on my back. He pivoted around and charged, forcing me against the wall. I did the only thing that came to mind and dropped to one knee, eye level with his crotch.
Marco’s moves were not calculated, but like a firestorm. He didn’t give his opponent time to think— only react. If Marco taught these moves to Justus, I wondered why he never fought this way.
I chomped my teeth and Justus hesitated. I had never threatened his manhood before, but if it meant saving my ass, then I was willing to go the distance.
He swung a heavy arm when a gust of wind cooled my forehead. Bodies slid across the floor in a calamity of sound and tangled limbs.
“No!” I screamed.
Logan pinned Justus to the ground with anger splashed across his complexion. The only thing preventing those incisors from piercing my Ghuardian’s neck was a strong forearm with a tight fist. Justus grimaced and a vein throbbed in his forehead. Logan held his other arm so he couldn’t use his power, and neither man was holding back.
This was no warning.
“Get off of him!”
Simon came up from behind, and swung me by the hip towards the stairs.
“Silver, leave the room.”
“They’re going to kill each other, Simon. Get out of my way!”
“Listen to me,” he said in a calm voice, opening his arms wide. “Leave this room, now. You are not equipped to fight a Chitah. He’ll kill you in a heartbeat. Do you understand? Let me handle this.”
Logan lacked mercy and killed without regret. I knew in that moment that I was willing to fight for my Ghuardian. My loyalty burned so deep it marked me like a river.
“Simon, get out of my way,” I said, shoving him.
He shoved back.
Anger culminated in his features, and he firmly gripped my shoulders. Fear struck through me like lightning. Precious seconds lost squabbling.
Logan’s black, bottomless eyes dragged across the floor and rose to watch us. Something switched gears in his attention, as if Justus no longer existed. My heart skipped a beat from his feral gaze as I struggled with Simon.
Faster than I could track, he lunged at us.
I flew off my feet, tumbling across the floor until I hit the wall. Logan crouched on top of me, knuckles pressed against the hard floor as he looked between Justus and Simon closing in on him. Talk about déjà vu.
Neither man looked Logan directly in the
eye—averting their attention to the floor as they talked in low whispers. Logan planted his right foot behind my back and extended his left leg over my body. He was waiting for a challenger.
He pushed my shoulder with his hand when I tried to get up. My hair stuck to my face in sweaty strands. I wrapped my fingers around his arm, pushing at him.
“Ghuardian, stay back. I’ve seen him kill.”
Logan released a deep growl that filled the room like a hunter’s call.
Simon eyed one of the daggers on the wall.
Logan noticed.
My fingers burned with energy, but out of nowhere, guilt arrived. What kept me from hurting Logan was the fact he was protecting me. Maybe he had ulterior motives for not handing me over to the Mage that night, but he didn’t lack options. I owed him for that.
Seconds away from bloodshed, I squeezed his arm. “You really are nothing but an animal.”
I meant it, and I knew this would offend him most.
He peered over his shoulder—fangs retracted, skin coloring normal, and eyes ringed in gold.
Logan stood up on his feet and swung a long arm in my direction, pointing towards the small cut on my lip. His eyes never broke contact with Justus.
“Heal the female.”
***
I have always hated flying. I came into this world on an airplane, but it always felt more like a coffin than a cradle. Turbulence, barf bags, crying children, the giant engine roaring outside my window—these things were not for me. Nor was riding in coach, because my Ghuardian could afford first class tickets.
“I can’t believe Justus agreed to this,” I said, crossing my arms over my stomach.
Logan unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted in his seat. “We came to an agreement.”
“What kind?”
“That’s between us. The word of a Chitah is firm, and I’ve agreed to guard you in his stead. This was Simon’s brainchild, and I can see how he earned his reputation. If you were escorted by a Mage, it would only draw suspicion. I offer better protection to fight against another Mage.”
Favors and debts were key elements and overruled personal opinion. As much as Justus didn’t trust a Chitah, he trusted they would stay true to their word. After all, it was in their nature.
This trip was giving me an opportunity to do something of value. Having an identity crisis at age twenty-nine was never in my plans, and I was searching for my place in this new life. Justus divulged useful tips on Marco: the type of women he preferred, his drink of choice, and how to speak to him. Simon was confident that if anything would lure him out of his foxhole, it would be a female Mage.
One hour in flight, I burst down the aisle and threw up in the closet they called a bathroom. I returned to my seat with a miserable look on my face. We were hurtling through the air like a missile, and no one batted an eyelash as they continued filing their nails and reading magazines.
Logan’s hair was tied at the nape of his neck, and he looked at me with concern.
“Is there something I can do to ease you?”
“Knock me out?”
I shut my eyes and held my stomach. I should have listened to Simon about taking medication, but knowing his sense of humor, he would have slipped me some kind of hallucinogenic drug as a practical joke.
When I opened my eyes, a vomit bag fashioned into a puppet was staring at me. He made it while I was in the bathroom, even took the time to draw large, goofy eyes.
“Why don’t you like me, little bird?” he chirped, moving the mouth.
I laughed unexpectedly, and a heavyset man in front of us glared through the seats. He had a pudgy nose, a mole on his cheek, and intolerance in his gaze. Logan looked at him sideways before giving me his attention.
“I can help take your mind off of it.”
“Give me that.” I snatched the bag and held it on my lap, staring at its cartoon eyes. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to inflict your humor on?”
A broad smile stretched across his face. “Is that your way of asking me about my situation?”
I sighed.
“No, I don’t have a female.” He stared vacantly at the overhead compartment.
“Maybe if you had a respectable job and didn’t kidnap people, a girl might actually take a shine to you.”
“I’m not for lack of options.”
I rolled my head to the right and stared up at his profile. His lower jaw slightly opened as he periodically tasted the air around him. Logan listened to conversations on two different levels.
“Well good for you.”
He smiled with his eyes, still looking ahead. “Jealous?”
“Spare me.”
A flight attended breezed by with a pillow and offered it to an older woman.
“I choose not to mate with them.”
I mouthed the word mate. Did he mean sex? Surely not. It must be their word for wife, or girlfriend, because there was no way in hell Logan was a celibate man.
He chuckled softly. “I use that term loosely. We date around.”
“Well you’re not dating me.”
“Did I miss the part where I hit on you, or is that your way of asking me to?”
Long legs weren’t meant for small seats, so he stretched one out in the aisle.
“You nauseate me.”
Impatient fingers tapped on the armrest. “I never date females with your dark hair and height.”
“What’s wrong with my height?”
“Have you ever laid eyes on a female Chitah? They’re the stuff legends are made of.”
The man was trying to rile me up.
“Are you saying you choose not to mate them or… mate them?” I made invisible quotation marks with my fingers.
“Still stuck on that, are we? All Chitah have a kindred spirit, but a few choose to settle with a suitable mate. I have never chased after a woman, for they are too busy chasing after me.”
“Player.”
“We all play the field, my dear.”
“What happens if you settle, and along comes your soul mate?”
“I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy,” he said. “If a Chitah settles, it will be for love. It’s not a decision we take lightly, knowing our kindred could appear at any time. We can have young, but most of us wait.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Cross.”
He gave me an enigmatic stare through the corner of his eyes and rubbed at his jaw.
“Are you really that interested?” He folded his fingers. “We may spend a lifetime searching and never find our Chitah kindred. A male knows her on sight. His desire for her becomes an unquenchable thirst, an undeniable need; he will want her just as sure as he draws breath and will lay down his life for her.” Logan sighed. “She does not feel the same pull, so the male must prove himself worthy to her. Nothing comes easy in life. He will always want his kindred, whether she accepts him or not.”
This didn’t answer my question, and I had a feeling he was avoiding it by giving me details.
Logan absently pulled a lock of hair free from the ponytail. “Every three years, we hold an event called the Gathering. Chitah from all territories come together in search of their other half. The odds are favorable, I’ve seen it happen.”
“All those women, and you haven’t found a match? Sounds like you’re not getting lucky.”
He thinned out his expression. “You choose to see what you want to see, but I choose not to take any of the women who throw themselves at me.”
“Wow, that’s confidence,” I laughed. “Be sure to give me a heads up the next time women are throwing themselves at you, I wouldn’t want to get knocked unconscious in the melee.”
“To admit it is not ego.” He shifted closer and spoke in a private voice. “You may not admit it, but you can’t deny that men chase you.”
“Chase all they want, I’m too fast.”
Logan arched a brow.
“I smell their desire. Adam is thick with it. Perhaps you are fast,
but you will eventually tire of running.”
“You make it sound like they all want me.”
“All males lust for the female; it’s primal. It doesn’t mean they want to marry you; some just want to bed you.”
“Justus isn’t like that.”
“Yes, he’s an interesting fellow. He’s protective of you and I respect that.”
“And it proves that I can have a man in my life without having a relationship with him.”
“You share a relationship with everyone in your life, only on different levels.”
I felt his heated gaze and pushed my fingers over the puppets eyes. “I know that, I meant the boyfriend kind.”
“Why do you play hide-and-seek with your heart? Haven’t you ever been loved?”
The paper bag slipped from my fingers and dropped between the seats.
Logan took a deep breath, squinting as if something stung his eyes. Part of me hated him for that. It was no better than someone reading my mind.
“That was not love, Silver. It doesn’t count.”
I listened to the hum of the engine and pretended I was a million miles away. The real turbulence was going on inside, where my emotions snapped like the contents of a soda bottle that had been shaken, not stirred.
“Don’t speak to me about love; you don’t know anything about my life. For the record—I don’t care about love, because love never cared about me.”
I tried to sound like none of it mattered, but it came out angry and hurt. I blinked and felt the sting of tears. Going home was resurfacing old feelings I had buried long ago. I sprang up from my seat, stumbling over his legs as I ran up the aisle with a storm of black hair whipping behind me.
I slammed the bathroom door and stared at the metal sink.
“Don’t you even think about crying,” I spat.
It felt like the Atlantic fucking Ocean was crashing over me in relentless waves. I glared at myself in the mirror. The wide collar of my green shirt revealed a splotchy red chest, which matched my face. Strands of hair stuck to my tear-stained cheeks. I was a mess, and no one was going to see me have a meltdown, especially not Logan.
