by Leela Ash
Eddy giggled, a nervous sound that shocked both women. “Hey, if you dig it, that’s all that matters. Am I right?”
Jordan ignored him. A moment later, the view over the city drew his attention, freeing Savannah from the iron grasp of his interest. “I should like some coffee,” he said as he strolled toward the conference room.
Not the lounge. Good. And coffee was the safest, simplest request he could make. “How do you take yours, sir?”
“Black.”
Of course.
“Cream and two sugars for me,” Eddy added. “Pearl, leave us.”
Lara’s presence was meager comfort, yet Savannah regretted seeing her leave. Quickly, she busied herself making coffee as the two men settled into the conference room. Eddy did most of the talking, filling the silence with the Fangs’ equivalent of small talk. Who disrespected him. Who he’d had killed or beat up. How many Rats he’d managed to blackmail into helping the Fangs.
She kept half an ear on that talk as she made the coffee. You never know when there’d be a vital bit of information floating in the revolting stew of boasts and threats (what passed for ‘conversation’ among the Fangs). Eddy’s prattle didn’t slow, even when she stepped between them, carrying their drinks.
Maybe it was the slate floor, so slick and strange. Maybe her shoes truly were ‘cheap knockoffs.’ But as she bent to set the coffee on the table, Savannah felt one heel twist.
Time slowed, like a scene from a horror movie, as the tray she held tilted wildly. She saw the steaming cups slide… hit the edge of the tray… and go tumbling off. One bounced across the glass table, scattering its hot contents over the clear surface. The other cracked against the table’s edge and dumped its scalding contents onto Eddy’s knee.
The Wolf’s scream of pain and outrage yanked the world back into focus. Savannah flinched as he bolted to his feet and cocked his hand back. “You stupid bitch!”
With his full strength, he slapped her.
Or rather, he tried.
But, as Eddy swung, Jordan’s hand shot out too. He caught the Wolf’s wrist in an iron grasp, freezing him in place before he could lay a finger on her.
“You don’t touch her,” was all her master said. Cool and unperturbed, despite the coffee that had sprayed everywhere.
“She needs to be taught a lesson!” the Wolf snarled. “She…”
Jordan’s fingers tightened and the rest of that sentence disappeared in a squeal of pain. And suddenly, his calm demeanor vanished. Light flared in his eyes, a blood-red gleam that turned his handsome features demonic.
“My assistant is my property!” he snarled. “You never touch my property!”
Heart beating wildly, Savannah knelt between them and dropped her eyes, every inch the submissive minion. Even Eddy, the supposed ‘Alpha’ of Ormaz, quailed. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“No, it will not.” The light faded as Jordan released the Wolf’s hand. “Now, leave us. I have nothing more to say to you.”
Like a chastised puppy, Eddy Adams did exactly that. As he scurried away, Savannah struggled to make sense out of the scene.
Who is this guy? Eddy is a high-ranking Fang and he just… just…
Just saved her from getting beaten up.
Probably because he wanted to do it himself. Kneeling, head lowered, she waited to learn her fate and punishment.
“Clean this up.” Calm once more, no one would ever suspect the rage that had seized him only a moment before. “Then bring me another cup of coffee in my office. I have a lot of work to do.”
Without another word, her master left.
Leaving her relieved – and confused.
Who the hell was Jordan Beaumont? And what would he demand of her?
Chapter 3.
Afternoon and evening passed in a whirlwind. Jordan Beaumont wasn’t joking when he said he had a ton of work. For hours, Savannah labored beside him. Gathering reports. Mailing queries to various spies and agents. Crawling through scholarly articles on the archeology of the American Southwest.
After just one afternoon, she already knew where his true interest lay: her ‘master’ sought more information on the Aegis. He had thick files on the Shifters of the Aegis, the four men who had been ‘claimed’ by the relic. Casey Briggs, a Dragon from the Flight of the Snows. Lucas Clay, lone Wolf. Rex Fairburn, Bear and local real estate developer. Griffin Davis, Chimera. Jordan dug through volumes of data, gathering every scrap of information on these people. Searching endlessly for some common thread. Some elusive quality they all shared.
Something that made the Aegis choose them, out of all men.
Savannah had a folder of her own. It held the names of the spies who watched these men, and what the Fangs had learned.
Todd will have to be careful using this. I can’t risk blowing my cover. But the Shifters of the Aegis are our only hope, the key to stopping Nemagorix. Protecting them is my most important duty.
That thought made her smile. Every one of the Aegis’ chosen was a powerful Shifter. Some of the greatest warriors in the world. The idea that she, a mere Kin, might protect them was ludicrous.
Unless you remember that you can’t fight what you don’t see. My job is to reveal their enemies to them.
In any normal office, today would have been a pleasant, busy day. Ormaz Corp., however, was anything but normal. The absolute power that a Fang master enjoyed cast a dark shadow over Savannah. A fear, a cold, creeping dread that, at any moment, she might look up and find Jordan Beaumont watching. Hungry. Lusting after her. Ready to demand the ‘services’ that the masters expected of their servants.
At 7:30 pm, Jordan stepped into his doorway. Immediately, Savannah snapped to attention. “Yes, master? How may I serve?”
Standard language for a minion in the Fangs, yet he winced. “I dislike that term. ‘Mr. Beaumont’ will suffice.”
“Yes, mmm… Mister Beaumont.” A three-year habit was hard to break!
“It’s late. I lost track of time and for that, I apologize.”
He… what? Savannah squinted at him, unsure if this was a trick. Fangs of Apophis didn’t apologize. Especially not over something so trivial.
“I’m sure you’re quite exhausted. You may go now. We’ll pick up again tomorrow morning at 8:30.”
While she hesitated, waiting for the trap to spring, he returned to his office.
And that was it. No demand that she kneel and pleasure him. No unwanted touches or lewd comments. Cold and distant though he was, Jordan remained a gentleman.
Something she’d never met in these halls!
Without a word, she gathered her belongings and went home.
Baths were the best remedy for stress. Soaking in a hot tub, head propped up by a neck pillow, Savannah closed her eyes. Water, warm and peaceful, lapped against her bare skin. Slowly, her muscles softened as the day’s tension drained away. With each deep breath, she inhaled the scent of sweet lavender.
Bliss… heaven… peace… until another scent wove its way into the floral aroma.
Rot. A chill breeze washed over her, rich with the stench of mold and damp.
Savannah’s eyes snapped open.
Her bathroom had vanished. Only the tub remained, surrounded by dark mist. A bright spotlight burned down from the mist, creating a small circle of light around it. The only light in this twilight.
What the hell…?
A moment later, she understood.
This is a dream. I fell asleep in the tub.
Normally, that thought alone would wake her. This time, though, the dream persisted.
Not the first time I’ve done this. Fortunately, my inflatable pillow will keep my nose above water!
This particular dream seemed determined to slip into a nightmare. Out in the darkness, water dripped. Another cold breeze whispered by, and she marveled at the sharp details. The faint scent of decay. The goosebumps that rose on her arms. Everything was as clear as real life.
/> Somewhere in the distance, someone spoke. “Help me.”
Man, woman, child, or thing, she couldn’t tell. “Hello?”
“Help me. Please.”
Walk out into that eerie, echoing darkness?
Why not? I’m not a coward in real life – and I’m sure as hell not going to dream about being chicken.
Slippers and a white cotton robe lay beside the tub. She slid into them and strode confidently out into the darkness.
Mist closed around her, rank and clinging. A faint luminescence burned within it that let her see vague shapes. Not that there was much to look at. Ground beneath her feet, hard and smooth, almost like pavement. Gradually, sounds whispered in, surrounding her. Women weeping. Harsh laughter. Screams. Always distant and muffled, as if they echoed across a huge abyss.
“Help me.”
Still, that voice led her on through the night, sad and despairing.
A door loomed out of the mist. Attached to nothing, it stood, the lone speck of matter in this emptiness.
At least my dream makes it clear where I’m supposed to go!
Smiling, she opened it.
A bedroom lay on the other side. Vaguely, she noticed tapestries, a canopy bed…
With two people in it, making love. A man and a woman wrapped in each other’s arms, locked in passion. Embarrassed by her own dream, Savannah began to back out quietly. As she did, the woman’s mouth popped open.
“Oh!” she shrieked. “It’s you!” Shoving the man aside, the stranger snatched up her sheets and clutched them to her chest. “I can explain! I swear! This isn’t what it looks like!”
What was she supposed to say to that? Annoyed by her own silly dream, Savannah sighed…
…then jumped when a man spoke at her elbow. “That’s what they always say. And yet, it is exactly what it looks like. Every time.”
Jordan Beaumont, her ‘master’, stood behind her. Staring at the tryst before them with dull displeasure. “At least my subconscious had the courtesy, this time, to remind me that all women are the same. Treacherous. Deceitful.”
“Hah!” The snort escaped Savannah before she could stop it. “A Fang of Apophis calling other people ‘treacherous’! That’s rich!”
“You’re a Fang too.”
“Pfft! No, I’m not. I’m spying for the First Flight.” It was a dream, after all. No harm in being honest.
Jordan pursed his lips. “Strange. Why would I think that of you?”
Speaking of strange… why the hell was she dreaming about this guy?
All afternoon, I’m terrified that he’s going to demand I have sex with him. Then, the minute I fall asleep, he’s here?
In all his glory. Somehow, her subconscious had kept every detail of him. Everything she’d tried to forget. Physically, Jordan was perfect. Broad cheeks, sleek black hair, emerald eyes. Powerful muscles playing beneath his silken shirt. Yet, his body, delicious as it was, was only half of his appeal. Raw masculinity radiated from him. It simmered in his unflinching visage, promising that he would always get what he desired. It smoldered in the lordly way he surveyed the world around him, ready to defeat anyone who might challenge him.
This was an Alpha. A man with not the slightest shred of softness in him. Faced with his domineering aura, Savannah felt something stir inside her. Something feminine, and hungry.
And unwanted.
Seriously? I worry about this guy raping me all day long. Now I want to jump his bones?
Well… yes. Consent changed everything. Jordan Beaumont was a spectacular man. Could she blame herself for wanting him?
This was a dream after all, no matter how real it felt. She couldn’t blame herself for her dreams.
Right?
“Help me.”
A corridor faded into view around them, edged with stone walls like a castle. Open doors marched down its length and from somewhere near its end, that plaintive voice begged once more.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“What’s what?”
He couldn’t hear that? “Look, Mr. Beaumont…” Even in her dreams, she wasn’t daring enough to call him by his first name? That was not acceptable! “Jordan. I have a boyfriend, so I’m not sure I want to make love to you, even in my dreams. Plus, somebody’s in trouble, and I need to go rescue them.”
“Who said anything about sex?” Vague affront lit his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe she’d walk away from him – even in a dream. But she did. Savannah trudged down the hall, heading for that plea for help.
Jordan followed, stewing silently. Every doorway revealed some new unpleasantness. A laughing young woman who crumbled into dust. Another lady, older, surrounded by four children in colonial garb. They, too, dissolved and blew away. Another door revealed a treasure vault, piled high with golden bars and gems. As they passed, all those riches melted like wax under the summer sun.
“So it is, always,” he sighed. “Nothing lasts. Not love. Not family. Not art. Not riches. Nothing. The Abyss claims it all in the end.”
“So what?”
Sharp and impertinent, her question shocked him. Jordan stared as if she were a tiny hamster which had suddenly grown fangs and bitten his finger off.
Good. Her family had never tolerated wallowing, and she didn’t plan to start now. “Of course, nothing lasts forever. Life is change. That doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile! You savor every moment, grieve your losses, and then find the strength to open your heart again. Because there will be an ‘again.’ Life is beautiful!”
“Life is a monotonous parade of boredom and sorrow,” he grumbled.
“Well, then, you’re doing it wrong.” Five minutes ago, she hadn’t dared to call him ‘Jordan.’ Now, faced with this self-indulgent angst, her annoyance gave her the courage to be honest with him. “Jordan, life should be wonderful.”
“You don’t understand,” he huffed.
“I understand just fine. I’m the one who’s happy, remember? Which sort of proves you’re the one who doesn’t get it.”
“You are a mayfly!” he snapped. “A gnat whose life is crammed into one single day! I am ancient! You have no idea of the weight of time, how it…”
Savannah ignored him and stomped off. Somewhere, somebody needed saving. It was time she did that – and got out of this silly dream.
A heavy oak door lay at the end of the hall. From behind it, her voice whispered once more. “Help me.”
She tried the handle. It was locked. “Hello?”
Jordan trotted up behind her, simmering with annoyance. “You are not listening.”
“No, I’m not. Because life is wonderful, and you’re complaining… complaining! – that you have too much of it. Can you get this door open?”
“What?” His fierce scowl turned on the innocent door. “Why?”
“Because I can hear someone calling for help from behind it, and it’s locked. To me, anyway.”
He reached for the doorknob, but as his fingers brushed it, he snatched his hand back, hissing in pain.
Once more, the voice spoke. Louder, and now clearly male. “Show her.”
What a weird dream! Jordan stared at the door with open loathing until Savannah tapped his arm. “I don’t think I’m going to wake up until you do what it says, so….”
“You will wake up?” he scoffed. Teeth gritted, he wrapped his fingers around the knob. This time, the door opened smoothly.
A shattered crystal goblet lay on the floor. Beside it, a pile of rust that might once have been a dagger. Beyond them, rose an enormous pile of bones. Monstrously large, like the remains of a dinosaur.
Or a Dragon…
Cautiously, Savannah inched forward. The hem of her robe brushed against the rust and sent it spilling across the floor. Jordan joined her, his face bleak with agony.
“You see? There is nothing.”
Without warning, a wall of emotion crashed down upon her. Weariness, a soul-killing fatigue that destroyed the will. Infinite boredom, the certain
knowledge that there was nothing in the world she had not already seen. Nothing new, nothing beautiful. Nothing worth living for. Woven through that, like the scent of a rotting corpse, lay despair. She was appalling, a monster. An abomination that no one could ever love.
No, not her. The feelings that threatened to drown her were strange, alien.
They’re his, not mine.
Wincing from the pain of those borrowed emotions, Savannah staggered. Neither joy nor satisfaction brightened Jordan’s eyes as he murmured, “Now, you see. Now, you understand.”
Seeing was one thing – surrendering was another. She was Bear Kin. Bears didn’t give up, they didn’t run. They stood their ground and protected their families. They certainly didn’t allow self-pity to drag them under. Fists clenched, she fought back against the tide of misery.
Something moved among the bones, a tiny flicker of light. Savannah dropped to her knees.
A movement that Jordan assumed meant surrender. “Thus, all great dreams end, all delusions of love and honor.”
Ignoring him, she pushed aside a pile of small bones. Beneath them, lay a glittering dragonfly. At first, she thought it a brooch. Its body seemed carved of emerald, its wings tiny sheets of alabaster. Yet, as she freed it, those delicate wings fluttered weakly.
“Look at this.” Carefully, she scooped it into the palm of her hand. Cold radiated from it, the icy ache of deep winter. A chill that quickly vanished as she breathed upon its fragile body. Scales brightened and a cloud of minute sparkles glittered across them. Wings stretched, fanned. With two stiff legs, the little insect began to groom itself, wiping its gem-like eyes.
Jordan stared at it in disdain. “A bug? Is that what amazes you?”
“Life,” she corrected him. “Life amazes me. When you look around, all you see is death and decay. Did you even notice this guy?”
“That insect. No, I did not notice such an insignificant thing.”
“Hope and life are never pointless!” She breathed on it again, hoping that her body’s warmth would comfort the little creature.
At the touch, its wings blurred into furious motion. The dragonfly rose into the air and buzzed about the gigantic skeleton. Motes of light danced in the air behind it, weaving bright streamers around the bones. It glittered, the one tiny speck of color in this gloomy underworld.
