Warrior's Destiny

by Allie Burton

  I couldn’t swallow any air. Was he asking permission or asking if it was possible?

  I licked my lips tasting the saltiness of the air. “I don’t know.” My voice sounded husky.

  “Should we give it a try?”

  Another experiment or did this mean something to him?

  It meant something to me. Like a big gamble, the kiss would mean I was all in. He’d know it. I’d know it.

  My first real kiss. And his, too.

  I licked my lips again and swallowed. The water swirled around his legs. I inched closer. The wave surged in and drained out.

  I nodded.

  He leaned into me, angled his head, opened his mouth slightly. His firm lips touched mine in a whisper soft caress. The pressure hardened and I knew this is what it was like to connect with someone. Heart and mind. Body and soul.

  The kiss spiraled inside, starting at my lips and going down into my chest and heart, caught my midsection and traveled further south. Twirled around spinning in my head. Wove back and forth and back and forth like—

  “Lombard Street,” I murmured the words against his lips. Placing my palms on his chest, I pushed him away.

  “What?” He used the back of his hand to wipe at his mouth.

  “The clue meant Lombard Street. That’s where we need to go next.”

  “Is that what you were thinking about while we were…while we were…” He took a few steps back and stood on the small beach. His eyes shuttered as if closing me off to his soul.

  “No.” I reached out to touch him but dropped my hand. He wasn’t in the water anymore so I couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t reach out to him.

  And I definitely couldn’t tell him what I’d really been thinking.

  * * *

  The red bricks on Lombard Street wove between large pastel houses. Colorful flowers bloomed at the end of every driveway, some in pots and some in short decorative walls. The road wasn’t long, but it was winding.

  “Where on the street do you think the container is hidden?” My voice sounded raw from lack of talking and holding back embarrassing tears. I refused to cry in front of anyone, especially Xander.

  He’d refused to discuss our kiss the entire way to Lombard Street. Refused to discuss his feelings. Refused to discuss anything.

  I’d tried to explain without divulging my emotions how Lombard Street had popped into my head. I know I’d hurt him by my abrupt ending of the kiss, but I needed to tell him. That’s what friends, partners, or whatever it was we were, did. Told each other everything.

  Well, except how I truly felt.

  His harsh anger had ramped up my pride. I wasn’t going to tell him about my thoughts and feelings, especially if he didn’t share his. With clipped words we discussed why Lombard Street probably held the next piece of the puzzle and we’d moved on. We hadn’t talked since our planning session on the beach. Since our kiss.

  Because of his movie-star looks he probably expected girls to fall madly in love with him at the first kiss.

  Like I had, a voice in my head whispered. The voice wasn’t Tut’s.

  Xander’s anger had lashed. Hurt me. I couldn’t tell him what I’d been thinking—way too embarrassing. I refused to be just another girl.

  You know you aren’t, my common sense voice.

  From what I learned of his background he’d never kissed anyone else, never hugged or held hands. He’d done all of that only with me. Yes, he was one of the best-looking guys I’d ever seen, yet he hadn’t had the opportunity to play the field, to play lots of girls. And he hadn’t played me.

  Maybe because I’m the first girl he’s been around was why he wanted to kiss me. I wasn’t anything special like he was to me. Warmth rushed through me. Not warmth from the sun, but the warmth of love.

  My heart stuttered. Love?

  How could this be love? I’d only known him a couple of days. But it felt like love. Like the kind you read about in books or watched on TV. Like the real forever kind. We’d made a connection from the very start. He’d stayed by my side to guide and protect me. He cared about me. And I more than cared about him. I never would’ve survived this long without him. I didn’t want to survive without him.

  I needed to explain, make amends about my reaction to the kiss. Why I’d thought of Lombard Street and pushed him away. “Look—”

  “I am looking.” His snotty tone would make an apology difficult. He hurried ahead of me down the curvy street. His feet hit the pavement with solid purpose. His shoulders appeared broader, angrier, a stay-out-of-my-way attitude. “You’re the one who seems to be mooning about.”

  Mooning about him. “That wasn’t a command to look.”

  “Sounded like a command.” He turned and bowed. “Oh Mighty Pharaoh.”

  Red flashed before my vision. I firmed my lips, afraid I might swear at him. “Stop it.”

  “Why should I?” He forged around the next curb passing a decorative mailbox at the end of a driveway.

  “Forget it.” I wasn’t going to apologize now. He was acting like a jerk. “Let’s just find the next oil vessel and move on.”

  Apologies are the unguent that keeps a relationship together.

  Unguent as in glue? I shook my head. Now, Tut decides to speak. Like he understood modern-day romance.

  Not that Xander and I had a romance. We didn’t even have a relationship. A partnership, a temporary truce, but not a boy-girl type of relationship. Probably not even a friendship.

  I might lov—like Xander, but he probably doesn’t feel the same. Look how fast he got angry. If I confessed my feelings, he’d probably reject me like he had at the Nilometer. Our kiss in the bay must’ve been another one of his experiments.

  How would telling him how I felt help our situation?

  Once we completed our quest and if I survived, we’d be separated. He’d go his way and I’d have to go back to Fitch for Doug and Tina’s sake. The man wouldn’t be a good influence on Xander, even though his kisses had been good for me. It was better for him to head off in a different direction. He’d have a better life without me and my baggage.

  Where was Tut when Xander and I kissed? Heat circled from my head to my toes. I wanted to hide from inside myself. Oh, my. Tut had witnessed our kiss. And our fight afterwards.

  Apologize.

  “Are you telling me what to do?”

  “I didn’t say anything.” Xander turned and glared, his green eyes morphing into a harsh red stoplight.

  “I don’t need your help,” I whispered this time not wanting anyone to hear.

  Why should I apologize? He’s the one who’d gotten angry. His pride was wounded and he lashed out.

  Precisely.

  Precisely, what?

  Why is it that a man’s pride is hurt?

  You’re the guy, you tell me.

  Why did you not tell him what you were thinking during your kiss?

  Why should I?

  Why should he?

  Communication between two people was difficult enough. This relationship had three. Tut, Xander, and myself.

  And all three of us were at a stand-off.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Xander

  “I found a marking.” A small zing burrowed through Xander’s fury.

  Finding a clue should prove to Olivia he wasn’t someone to toy with and take advantage of. Just because he didn’t have her powers, or her street smarts, he was still intelligent. Still contributed to this…partnership.

  The word burned in his chest.

  Not a friendship. Not a relationship.

  Just two people working together toward a goal.

  There’d be no more touching or dancing or kissing. He’d help her and protect her and nothing more. He’d thought she was special. That they’d made a connection. But he understood he was naïve to the ways of females and he must’ve misread the signs. Not if she could be kissing him while figuring out puzzles.

  During their kiss, his brain had been frazzled. He’d been u
nable to think at all. The touching of their lips had affected him like nothing he’d experienced before. Mind blown. And now, ego blown to bits.

  “What is it?” Sure, she hurried to his side now. She’d been moping about, not helping him scour the quirky Lombard Street.

  The brick street ran in a curvy zigzag from the top of the hill to the bottom. The middle section overflowed with plants and flowers. Colorful houses with large windows towered over the narrow street. Not some place he’d want to live.

  His chest squeezed. He had no place to live. No home to go to. Olivia had stolen that.

  What did she have to mope over? He’s the one who’d been totally shocked and wowed by the softness of her lips and the rich taste of her tongue. By the way her arms had wrapped around him as if she wanted to be closer. She would’ve been happy kissing any guy. He wasn’t special to her.

  He stomped onto the street near the bottom of the zigzag. The street went straight down from there and the buildings became light industrial. “A pattern in the bricks. Can you see it?”

  She angled her head to the right and left. “No.”

  The shade of red varied in these bricks hinting at the pattern beneath. He circled the perimeter. “Squint your eyes.”

  A car honked. He jumped back to the curb. The street was closed to tourists wanting to drive down the famous road, but not to local residents. The driver glowered probably tired of gawking tourists impeding his progress.

  “We can’t look suspicious.” Her I-know-best tone rubbed against his raw wound.

  She’d wanted to dance in the bay. She’d wanted to touch. She’d initiated the kiss. And, she was experienced. How many other guys had she been with? Had any of them meant anything?

  It had been his first kiss. That’s why he was blowing it all out of proportion. That’s the only reason he thought the kiss was special. His heart pulsed shooting a soft shaft of pain through its center. When this was over, he’d go out and kiss a million girls to show Olivia she meant nothing.

  Shaking the stupid thoughts away, he had to concentrate on this. Not on her. Not on them.

  “If we’re going to find and steal whatever’s hidden, we can’t attract attention. Let’s play tourist.”

  He hated that her suggestion made sense.

  Fisting one hand, he pointed at a white house at the bottom of the street. “I’ll pretend I’m studying the architecture. You get a better look at the bricks.”

  She stepped onto the street and bent her head. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Keep looking.” He knew what he’d seen. This was the next clue.

  Adrenaline pumped through his bloodstream and he wanted to take action. His life had been so structured and boring until the night of the lunar eclipse. Training, lessons, reading. His only escape had been the Society’s ranch with the lake and the horses. It had been his only fun. He had Olivia to thank for getting him out of his safe rut.

  Her life was one big adventure and through her, he was involved in the excitement. But he didn’t want to play a small role. He wanted to be part of saving the world.

  “Why does it matter if I see it?” Her frustration razzed in her tone.

  He dropped his arm and turned to study her. “I wanted to make sure you agreed with me.”

  This was her life they were gambling with. The Society might want him dead, but they wanted her more.

  She kicked at the ground. “You probably think I’m stupid because I can’t see it.”

  “Why would I think that?” If anything, she’d shown how intelligent she was with her knowledge of the city, her fearlessness, and her understanding and compassion for homeless people.

  She scrunched up her nose. “I’ve taken those intelligence tests, you know. When I was in foster care.”

  A tingle went from his spine to his head. What if he’d ended up in foster care instead of with the Society? He could’ve ended up in a nice home where the parents cared. Sent him to school, bought him normal clothes, let him play soccer. Or he could’ve ended up in homes like she had. She hadn’t shared all the details, but the experience did not sound pleasant otherwise she wouldn’t have run away.

  “This reminds me of those tests where they give you black blobs on different cards and you have to say what it looks like. To me it looked like a black blob. I always failed.”

  “Why do you think that meant you failed?”

  She called them like she saw them. That was honesty. He appreciated it, even though sometimes it hurt.

  “Because the test-giver always smiled, but I could sense their disappointment.” She wrapped her arms around herself in a self-hug.

  He wished he could comfort her, except he’d pass out on the street. “You don’t know that.”

  Her arms slipped from the hug to a crossed position. She nodded her head. “That’s why I was juggled from home to home. No one wanted a stupid girl.”

  “Olivia, you’re not stupid.” He’d just thought the opposite.

  Was she reading his mind?

  One of her new powers? He paused. He’d also been thinking about hugging her. And hugging could lead to kissing and he didn’t want to go through rejection again. His nostrils flared. They needed to move on in order not to attract attention. “Look again. It’s a striking cobra. There’s one on King Tut’s headpiece.”

  Some of the bricks were a darker shade than the rest, as if they were newer. The top of the marking curved around and came to a point, like a long, skinny tongue. The rest of the bricks formed an S shape, kind of like a body.

  “If you say so.” Her snotty tone set him off.

  “I’m sure of it.” Fisting his hands, he stared at the sky needing patience. He hadn’t used false bluster in awhile.

  She huffed. “How are we going to dig it out? There are people around.”

  A runner pushed a baby jogger up the hill. A man trimmed bushes at one of the houses. A couple strolled past, holding hands and swinging their arms between them. Xander glanced away.

  She took lip gloss from her pocket and dropped the tube. Bending down to pick it up, she used the action to pry a brick up about an inch. “The bricks are loose.” She dropped the brick into place and scooped up the gloss in one slick move. She was more than smart, she was crafty.

  Unlike him. He was out of his element. A guy who knew little about street life and crime. Why would someone sophisticated and knowledgeable want someone like him?

  “Now what?” He scanned the area, his gaze traveling up and down the hill.

  A solitary figure stood across the nearest cross street. He wore dark clothes and seemed to be watching them.

  Wiping her hands off, she stood. “It’s daylight and there are too many people around to dig it up now.”

  The man stepped into the shadow of a building.

  His nerves tingled. Could someone from the Society be watching them? But Jeb had been killed in the bay. Should Xander say something to Olivia about the strange man? It might be nothing, no one. He didn’t want to worry her. She had enough on her mind between the curse and the burnout. Best to leave and pretend they hadn’t found anything. Throw this man, if he was even connected, off their scent like in spy books. As Olivia had said, they couldn’t dig the area up in the middle of the afternoon.

  “Let’s go someplace we can think and not be noticed.”

  By the tourists and homeowners. By the Society or the strange man.

  Ten minutes later, they ended up in Washington Square, a small park off Columbus Avenue. The entire walk his nerves had skittered and his gaze darted behind them to make sure they weren’t being followed. Olivia had changed streets and circled a block and double-backed. Avoiding tails must be her normal way of thinking.

  He frowned. Living life always wary of your surroundings must be difficult. His upbringing hadn’t been a walk in the park, but he hadn’t needed to worry about being chased or food.

  The park was quiet this late in the evening. Tall trees blocked the noise from cars on the nearby
streets. Restaurants and homes enclosed the area. A sidewalk rimmed the edges and the grass was worn in places. Green benches dotted around the sidewalk, many of them in the shade of trees. The early evening air turned brisk and clouds of fog began to ease in off the bay.

  Olivia plopped down on a bench under drooping tree branches and shivered. “Should I make the sun come out again and burn the fog away?”

  He picked a bench across the sidewalk from her. The chasm seemed an appropriate width. The stroll to the park had reminded him of the walk to Lombard Street and what had happened at the bay. Or should he say, in the bay? The sharp shaft went through his heart again. He needed to stop thinking about the kiss. She’d obviously forgotten.

  “Great way not to get noticed.” He couldn’t stop the surliness. That was their goal. To stay under the radar. “Besides, we want it to get dark. Then, we can dig up the bricks and see if I’m right.”

  She stuck her tongue out and he remembered how it had tangled with his. “We’ll have to wait until the residents on Lombard Street have gone to bed and lights are out.”

  He knew that. He wasn’t totally oblivious to the ways of crime.

  “So, we wait.” He tapped his foot on the concrete. “And get some rest while we can.”

  Stretching, Olivia laid on the bench. Her ankles hung over the end and she cradled her head in her hands. Her braid slipped over her cheek and he wanted to brush the hair aside. A few homeless occupied other benches around the park so she didn’t look completely out of place.

  He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. The hard wood dug into his neck. Tugging his jacket closer, he swished his butt trying to get comfortable. The bench was hard. He’d been spoiled with his huge pedestal bed.

  Opening his eyes, he whispered, “Olivia.”

  She didn’t move. She’d dropped right off to sleep. Wonder what her bed was like. And her home. And this Fitch man.

  Xander closed his eyes again. Shifted. Picked up his feet and curled them beneath him. There wasn’t a comfortable spot. He wiggled in place. Something ticked inside him like an alarm. He didn’t know if it was impatience or the need to prove his theory right. The ticking sparked energy. He wouldn’t be able to sleep.