by Emma Cole
With a slight pulse of power, it began to ripple, struggling to hold its form. Eyes boring into Jack’s, Retta drilled home her point, pressing just a little more into her intent, and that was it for Jack’s arm. Groaning at the pain, he grabbed his limp limb yet still stood defiant.
“Take a seat please, mistress.” Jack’s voice revealed nothing of the struggle that had taken place. Glaring at his address, Retta complied. For now, she would humor him, then make her final decision.
The other two had stopped their tussle, more interested in the exchange between Retta and Jack. Kingston at least looked to be in control of himself again even if his demeanor conveyed his displeasure at whatever Jack wanted to share. Ace made a beeline for her, and she refused to quail away. In her personal zone but not touching her, he knelt at her feet. While it brought him down further to her level, the top of his blue head was still level with her chin.
Head bowed, Ace uttered the words she hadn’t heard in millennia. Before she could protest in her panic, a glow started under the collar of his shirt on the back of his neck where a tattoo resided. An answering glow radiated from the side of her ribcage, a matching mark to the one on his neck, along with the sharp, burning sensation of the bond snapping into place.
Motherfucker just essentially married them for eternity. Had the jackass already not stopped speaking that old and forgotten language, she would have killed him for his audacity. As it now stood, she was screwed. Their life forces were forever entwined.
“How the fuck do you know the ritual words?” she demanded, grabbing hold of his throat. Just because she couldn’t kill him didn’t mean she couldn’t choke the snot out of him.
Ace calmly stared at her, even as his body struggled for oxygen. He was hers, and she was his. His unconcerned gaze was conveying that, as well as the feelings she was picking up through the bond. Releasing him, he regained his balance on his knees and began to explain.
“I don’t know how I knew the words. They just came to me, and I barely had control. I don’t think I’ve ever fed that much at once. But I do know one thing. You’re mine. Ours. Kismet. I don’t regret it and never will. Mine.” Ace’s fierceness bled into every disjointed word uttered out of his pretty lips.
She couldn’t fault him for it. If that fickle bitch Fate had anything to do with all this, then there wasn’t a lot she could do. Except…
“Ours?” Glancing from male to male, Retta got varied reactions. Jack was looking a little pale but resolved; Kingston just appeared annoyed. And, of course, Ace was smug. Stupid male.
Kingston, taking pity on her ignorance—much to her annoyance—elaborated.
“Me, Ace, Jack, and Quint. We’re your balance. I’ve only seen bits and pieces, but I’ve seen enough to know that much. Kismet, fate, soulmates, whatever you want to call it, we’re to be bound. Something is coming. Something big. It evades every vision, hiding in the shadows. I have my suspicions but don’t want to voice them just yet and lead everyone in the wrong direction.”
Retta paled. Not only at the bonded revelation, she’d have to deal with that later, but at the confirmation that something massive was going down.
“My brothers. Do they live?” Her impending heartbreak was clear on her face if the wrong words were uttered. Thankfully, he nodded. She could slightly relax, for now.
“I see them. They’re in some type of limbo. I warn you now, they aren’t the only ones I see pulled into this odd stasis.” Getting him to spill was getting on her nerves.
“Spit it the fuck out, Kingston. Don’t make me do it.” The interruption from Jack was surprising yet welcome. Frustration laced through the scowls on both his and Kingston’s faces.
“I was getting to it, Jack. Thanks though.” In a mumbled rush, Kingston said something about needing a priest.
“Thanks, but I left my religion back in Eden along with the other hypocrites. Although I do have a shiny red souvenir.” Reaching into a space pocket, she retrieved her apple. So unblemished it didn’t look real, Retta inhaled the sweet intoxicating scent. Kingston lunged to stop her, but she was already popping it back into her space pocket. “Chill out, fang-face, I’m not gonna eat it. I’m not an idiot.” She rolled her eyes at his actions, hard enough to sprain something in one of them.
“I didn’t say you needed a priest. I said we need to find Priest. The person. Our Joker and resident wildcard asshole, in more ways than one. I’m half convinced he’s behind the visions I can’t make out.”
“My brothers?” Friend, partner, or otherwise, he was a dead man walking if he touched one of her brothers.
“I don’t think so, but it’s too hazy and uncertain. Please let me accommodate you here, and I’ll explain anything I can. You can freshen up, and I’ll give you a tour of the club. No restrictions.” Kingston earnestly held his hands up, palms out, in surrender, and Retta snorted at the innocent and open book manner he was trying to pull off.
Ace’s head had drooped forward now that his protective mate adrenaline boost had worn off. Unconsciously, Retta reached out to stroke the side of his face. He nuzzled into her palm and settled his head on her knees. A long-forgotten piece of her heart thawed at the trusting gesture. What was she going to do with the big man? As if reading her thoughts, Kingston answered.
“Ace will need to be close to you for a while. Until the bond settles and he can regulate the amount he siphons off, he’ll be unstable around others.”
With a sigh, Retta conceded the point. She remembered some of the bonded entities from that place she used to call home. And the subsequent messes if the couple didn’t stay sequestered long enough. She wasn’t happy, but she’d deal with it. One more thing first though.
“No sex. None. I can cut your dicks off and still keep the bond intact, just try me. Also, keep your pointy things out of me. I’m not your blood bank. And we’ll be discussing the rest of you bonding when I have the patience to hear it. I’m assuming you already have one with each other?” They nodded yes, and Retta sighed. “Of course, you do. Fuck it. Where’s this magical room? I need a drink or twelve and some takeout.”
Jack supported Ace as Kingston led the way down the hall to a private elevator. Retta took the far corner opposite the control panel when the doors slid open, and it was a short and silent ride up to the next floor. Following Kingston again, she paid close attention as he marked off the nondescript black doors that belonged to each of them before arriving at the second to last one.
He used another palm scanner to unlock it, stopping her before she could enter. “Here, put your hand up so I can give you access.”
She complied, and after several passes of the green bar of light, the box gave a beep signaling its completion.
“That also gives you full access to everything. Full use of the system. Please don’t make me regret trusting you.” Kingston’s voice held hope and resignation as he dropped that little bombshell.
Unsure if he’d seen something or if he went to the default and expected betrayal, Retta didn’t know. But she’d paused too long to answer now, and the silence was awkward. A sharp nod of her head was all she could get out as she slipped past him into the room.
Taking it all in as she moved through what appeared to be a suite, she noticed the entry area and common room was all done in grays and mauve. There was a small kitchen area and a door she assumed led to a bedroom. Opening it, she found teals that followed a color scheme into the attached bathroom. Annoyance surged through her at being put up in the obviously feminine rooms. Going back out into the main area, she waited for Kingston to notice her. He was busy helping Jack situate Ace on the chaise portion of the sectional couch before he finally noticed her toe tapping and crossed arms.
Bewildered, he asked, “What?”
Retta sneered at him. Like he didn’t know. Pfft.
Still not catching her drift, he shrugged helplessly at Jack who studiously ignored them both and pretended to be engrossed in making sure Ace was comfortable. Or maybe he just liked
being hands-on. Touchy bastard.
“Woman, I have no idea what your problem is.” Retta didn’t let up with the glare, prompting the King to confess, “Also, I may have overexaggerated my abilities, but since you were contemplating murder, I felt it was justified. Please, explain the issue.”
Pompous ass.
“Why am I in the hooker’s room?” she snarled at him, arms uncrossing for her hands to settle on her hips.
Kingston gaped at her, and now she had Jack’s attention as well. Her tone even had Ace, who Jack immediately patted on the chest back into slumber, mumbling and trying to stir to consciousness.
“Hooker room? Did you lick the apple? You did, didn’t you? Senseless female can’t even tell it hasn’t ever been used. Acting all snotty like we’d put you up as if you were a common whore. There’s a line waiting downstairs; we don’t need to decorate a room.” At a growl that surprised even her, Kingston quickly clarified his mumbling. “We don’t use the women. The room is yours. We knew you were coming and thought to offer you your own space. It’s been done up for several years. Priest is actually the one who helped Ace decorate.”
The admission sucked the wind from her furious sails.
“For me?” She was still suspicious but took the time to filter through what her senses had already discovered. Other than some underlying unidentifiable scents, most likely from workers or the other men, there wasn’t anything to indicate there had been any intimate relations in the space. “Fine, I apologize for my assumption.” She gritted it out like it hurt to say sorry.
“Apology accepted. Can we have those drinks now? And I can call down for food if you’d like?” Kingston, frazzled yet hopeful again now that the immediate tension was gone, nearly stumbled over the words he’d pushed out so fast. “Afterwards, we’ll go on the tour. By then, Ace should be sufficiently recovered.”
Retta agreed and locked down tight on the buildup that steadily grew, not wanting to accidentally kill anyone or cause another loss of control and have a fight break out.
Chapter Four
Ace was moving, sluggishly, but at least coherent now. They’d filled up on some really great Cantonese food and were on the tour through the level below the casino to the strip club, and what may as well be a brothel in Retta’s opinion. In actuality, it was probably more of a sex club; even if prostitution was legal here, it seemed a tad classier. The men walked in a formation around her, tickling Retta’s humorous side in their attempt at protection. She could flash out of here in a hot second. Only reason she wasn’t popping around like Casper on crack was that she had to have physically been somewhere first, or she had to be linked up with a person that had been there before. Since she wasn’t hip on letting anyone into her head, manually going from place to place was currently necessary.
Having gone through the main areas of the casino and restaurant, Kingston pointed out the directions for other things—like the shopping center and pool she may want to check out later. Finally, they arrived at the entrance that led to the stages. Apparently, they were all a little hesitant as it was last on the agenda, yet she knew they wanted her to meet Quinton.
Rolling her eyes, Retta took the initiative to move to the front and pull the heavy glass door open. Neither of the bouncers who stood to either side of it were moving, and the triple ding-dongs behind her were being pussies.
A blast of sickly-sweet hot air and a near ear bleed level of music escaped through the open door, making her cringe. Better just to get it over with and get back out. Sleep was sounding heavenly right now, pun totally intended. She snickered at her own joke even if no one else was privy to it. Never hurt to play the part of a crazy pants female.
Bossman found his ballsack in those fancy trousers and pushed in front of her to lead the way. Tossing another eye roll back at the two flanking her, she yet again played follow the leader. The further they got into the area, the less the music overwhelmed everything, allowing those closest to them to hear her singing under her breath. The ‘following the leader’ song from the old Disney classic amused her while making everyone else keep a respectable distance. Not that she could blame them. Tatted up, with her red and black hair and eyes, paired with kiddie cartoon songs, surely cemented her derangement.
Too busy scaring the shit out of the patrons, Retta failed to notice they had waded, well, walked since they parted like the red sea, through the crowd up to the base of a stage. She was eye level with a G-string pulled far too tightly up a crack and letting more than buttcheeks hang out. It’d been a few dozen years, but she was contemplating finding a mirror to compare. Were there cosmetics on it?
Eyes wandering up from the sparkly twat on display, she met the gaze of the female staring haughtily back at her over a shapely shoulder. The woman spun full frontal when she spotted Kingston and the guys, putting a hand out for help down. Ace and Kingston immediately put a hand up for the dancer to grip and helped her float down to the floor like it was an everyday occurrence. And maybe it was, but the green-eyed monster that suddenly took up residence in Retta’s chest wasn’t having any of that shit. A primal growl trickled up her throat and out of her curled lips while she alternately stared at the hands of the female had yet to release.
“Mistress, please, it’s only Quin–” The pointed glance and pursed lips from the nearly naked woman caused Jack to switch up his explanation. “Excuse me, Camilla. I don’t know why you insist on that name when we all know who you are.” Poor Jack sounded exasperated. Must be an ongoing argument. So, this was Quinton, aka Camilla. And if she didn’t get her hands off of Ace, there were going to be issues. Retta sighed at the demands of the bond. Not that it did anything to stop the low rumble that came from her.
Ace tried to pull his hand from Camilla’s futilely as she tightened her grip with a smirk in Retta’s direction, Kingston having more success when he berated his friend.
“Quint, let go. She’s going to tear you up with the bond riding her. And you’re making Ace ill.” It was true; he was looking worse than before if that were possible.
A sharp inhale from the woman betrayed her feelings on the subject. Her other hand came up, long red nails shining even in the dim light, to reach for his face in a grasp that never connected as he lurched back. Pissed, she lunged at Retta, to the shock of the other three and the staring bystanders.
Retta refused to back down and donned her own smirk, waiting for the bitch to touch her. As soon as Camilla had a grip on Retta’s arms, Retta let out a pulse of energy, bringing the woman to her knees where she flickered in and out between forms.
She was in major danger of losing it in the mob of people in the club, prompting Kingston to shake off his surprise that the gender-bender on their knees hadn’t drawn off the rage coursing through her veins with their touch. Grabbing Ace and pushing her into Jack, they all touched her at once, bringing her back down to manageable levels. Ace stayed wrapped around her, while the other two went to help Camilla who had stabilized her shift.
Peering up out of furious eyes, she spat epithets regarding Retta’s parentage and character. Retta shrugged, not caring in the least what she said as long as she kept her hands to herself.
“Let’s go. Now. This isn’t the place to handle this.” Bossman took Camilla's elbow to help her up in her stilettos. Too bad she hadn’t broken an ankle when she busted her ass. G-string and nipple pasties completed her ensemble, and she played it up, clinging to his arm while beckoning to Jack.
What the hell was wrong with them? If that was their buddy, did they not realize he had a few screws loose? And they were supposed to mate? Screw that noise.
Retta and Ace trailed behind the trio, and the room resumed its party atmosphere as a new dancer came out onstage. Filing into a dim hallway through a door next to the stage, they veered off to the right when it split. A door at the end led into a plush office much like the one upstairs.
Until next time…
Sincerely,
Retta and her Death Dealers
Emma Cole lives in a small town in the mountains where she brings the stories in her imagination to life with paper and ink.
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Also by Emma Cole
Remington Carter Series
Echoes and Entanglements
https://www.books2read.com/u/4EMMIM
Requiem
https://www.books2read.com/u/47EZy8
The Dark Duet
Lark
https://books2read.com/u/4XZApa
Nightingale
(Coming Soon)
