Destiny United (6 page)

“It’s a two day trek through the Rockies to get to the…”
He cut off suspiciously. “To get to Sage.”

“Are you sure Sage is in Colorado?” She arched a brow.
“It’s a little hard to believe.”

“I didn’t say she was in Colorado, I said we are going to
Colorado
to get to her
.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes. Now stop stalling and go get cleaned up.” When she
didn’t move he followed it with an intimidating, “
Now
.”

With an irritated grumble and her best killer glare, she
said, “You are infuriating.”

He flashed an unrepentant smirk. “Yes. And I only get
worse.”

Ballsy!
She wanted to throw
something at him – that’s what Sage would have done. So why did she find
herself moving to the bathroom door, towel in hand?

Yes, Erin had always been the level-headed one. But
Marcelo better watch out because this walking mouth was ready to bite.

***

As soon as he heard the shower turn on, Marcelo was up
and out the door. He ran to Erin’s apartment to pick up the car. The bodies
were gone, taken by the sorcerers, which meant he was off the hook for clean-up
duty. He was uncomfortable having sorcerers in the city, so close on their
trail. Logically he knew he should hunt them down, but leaving Erin alone in
the hotel room didn’t appeal to him either. Not just because there was a chance
– albeit a slim one – that the sorcerers would find her, but he didn’t trust
the woman to stay in the room if left to her own devices. He could already tell
she was trouble.

On the drive back to the hotel, Marcelo reached for his
phone and dialed Sage’s number. She and James were still in Wales awaiting
Marcelo’s delivery of the sister. Now he had to explain that he’d somehow
forgotten how to
traverse.
Not only that, but
they would be flying in an airplane, then backpacking into the Rockies, most likely
with sorcerers trailing them, while he toted her very fragile, very mortal,
beloved sister.
This should be interesting.

“Is everything okay?” Sage’s voice came through on the
second ring.

Her voice was tight with worry, which meant she would be
a bitch to deal with. Thank gods for her mate, James. He was her balance in
every way. And although Marcelo and Sage were friends, most of the time James
was easier to deal with. Especially when it came to matters of the heart.

“Why didn’t you tell me your sister has social anxiety?”
he asked.

Silence, then, “Oh. That.”

“Yes, that.”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t help me.”

“You’re damn right! I don’t know what to do with her. I’m
not a goddamn therapist!”

“I know, I know,” she said quieter. “Please Marcelo.
You’re the only one I trust to take care of her. Just
traverse
with her
now. We’re in –”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I mean I can’t! Something’s happened to my ability.”

“Have you
traversed
Topside
before?”

“Of course,” he snapped. “How else would I look for…” He
trailed off. He was in no mood to talk about Natalia. “My quest.”

“Uh-huh,” she said and he could picture her rolling her
eyes. “Well, I don’t know why it’s not working. You haven’t messed with any
witches lately, have you?”

“Of course not! Bloody she-devils,” he muttered.

“Hey, watch it!” Marcelo sometimes forgot his queen was
also part witch. “Well, you’ll just have to bring her the mortal way. We could
meet you at an airport in Wales.”

“We have no passports!” he growled, growing weary of her
assuming attitude.

“Look. You’re a smart guy. Just take care of her.” Her tone
was casual until she snapped, “But if you touch a single hair on her –”

“
Reina
,” he grated, using
the formal word for “queen” in his language, “you best put your mate on the
phone.”

He heard rustling in the background and James said, “Give
me that!” More rustling, then his smooth voice was on the other end. “I’m here,
Marcelo.”

“James? I’ve lost the ability to
traverse,
but there’s a door to the Underworld in Colorado. We’ll board a plane the day
after tomorrow then hike into the Rockies. I think this particular door drops
in the middle of demon territory.”

“How long do you think it will take you to get there?”

“We fly in two days. It’s a two day hike at least. An
extra day to find the door.”

“Five days and we’ll meet you in the demon lands,” James
said. “All right?”

“All right.”

He hung up the phone. Men were so much easier to talk to.

Erin took her time in the shower,
reflecting on the night’s events. Reality hadn’t quite hit yet. One minute she
was a college student taking evening and online courses in business management,
and now she was fleeing to Colorado with a vampire while sorcerers tried to
kidnap her. Although she’d grown up in foster care, being moved from home to
home, her life had been relatively quiet. She’d never been in trouble. She
didn’t break rules. She wasn’t the adventurous type. But now there was a
supernatural equivalent of a hit out on her life. What would they do to her if
they caught her? She shuddered. She didn’t want to know.

And what about Jimmy? Why couldn’t she take him with her
to Sage? What was Marcelo hiding? How she wished Jimmy was here with her. Or
Sage. Or someone remotely reassuring who would pat her back and tell her
everything would be okay. She had a feeling, as hot as Mr.
Tall-Dark-and-Brooding was, he wasn’t the hand-holding type.

Curse me and my stupid disorder!
Why couldn’t she have come out of the foster care system unscathed like
Sage? Well, maybe not unscathed. Her sister had a nasty temper, and was more
cynical than anyone Erin had ever met. But she had a set of steel balls.
Well, if I’m going to survive this world of dangerous
supernaturals, I’m just going to have to channel my inner-Sage and grow a pair.

Just then a door slammed outside the room and she jumped
out of her skin. She sighed. Growing a pair? Easier said than done.

Erin’s memory took her back to when Sage had first told
her about the world that existed under their very nose though hidden in the
dark shadows of society.

“Fuck, Dot. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she had said on
the phone just seven months ago. “I’m in too deep. Almost every creature from
myth is real. Fucking real!”

For the last seven months she’d been getting texts with
random information about how Erin could protect herself. For instance, a stake
to the heart was one big hoax thanks to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Vampires
could only be killed by beheading. Same with werewolves. Sorcerers were more
vulnerable – that is, if you can get close enough to one. Sage was a sorceress
and Erin had seen well enough what she could do with her powers.

Screams erupted in Erin’s mind. Memories too confusing to
remember. Police sirens. A fire roared. Flames licked up everything in its
path. Windows shattered into lethal shards of glass. Sage escorted into a
police car. Then she was gone.

But they’d stayed close, even after all these years. She
hadn’t realized how much she missed Sage. It had been over a year since they’d
seen each other in person.

The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled Erin from
her memories. “That better not be you, Marcelo,” she said warily from behind
the shower curtain.

His deep accented voice was mocking. “Would you prefer a
stranger,
querida
?”

Biting back the urge to throw a sample shampoo bottle at
his head – again – she growled, “I’d prefer my privacy!”

“Relax,
pequeña fogata
–”

“What did you just call me?” she snapped, certain he’d
insulted her.

A chuckle of male amusement sounded from the other side
of the curtain. Suddenly Erin wondered if vampires had x-ray vision. She fought
the urge to cover her breasts with her arms.

“Little fire,” he answered tenderly. “Now calm down. I’ve
only come to bring you clean clothes. I’ll give you your precious privacy.”

She heard the bathroom door shut but peeked from behind the
curtain just to be sure.

She stayed until the water ran cold. When she stepped out
of the shower, the first thing she noticed was a familiar hot pink thong
sitting on top of the pile of clothes, broadcasting loudly, “I rooted through
your underwear drawer!” She blushed and fought back the urge to slink away
through the window. But it wouldn’t open, she’d already checked. Dressed in the
new denim shorts and blue flowered peasant top she stepped out of the bathroom.

Marcelo was stretched out on the bed, boots off and TV
remote in hand.

“I’m surprised you know how to work that thing,” she said
eyeing the remote.

He turned to regard her with hooded eyes. His gaze
flickered across her face, where her cheeks were probably still red, then down
the rest of her, lingering on her hips. Shit. He was thinking about that pink
thong. His lips twitched. “Not very grateful, are you? I saved your life
and
brought you clean clothes.”

She bit her lip, suddenly ashamed. He was right. He was
taking care of her as a favor to her sister and she was acting like a bitch.
Yes, he’d killed at least three men in her apartment and most of the time he
scared the shit out of her, but he was protecting her. He’d been demanding,
bossy, and purposefully intimidating, but he hadn’t hurt her.

“Sorry,” she said taking a step closer. “You’re getting
paid for this gig, right?”

“Gig?”

She waved a dramatic hand. “Mission, assignment,
Operation Save the Human…”

“Cargo delivery,” he said with a grin, knowing it would
provoke her.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I try to be nice
to you.”

“We went over this already.” He spoke as if she had lost
a large quantity of brain cells over the last few hours. She wasn’t altogether
certain she hadn’t. “Because I saved your life and brought you clean clothes.”

“Right.” Sighing in resignation she took a seat on the
bed opposite the large body taking up most of it. “So you went back to my
apartment?”

“Yes,” he answered but focused his attention back to the
TV. The Barefoot Contessa was baking something with five pounds of butter.
Vampires watch the Food Network?
She shook her
head. As if that were the strangest thing she’d seen all day.

“Why did you go back?”

“Isn’t getting you clean clothes reason enough?”

“Did you –”

He interrupted her question with a black look. “Don’t ask
questions you –”

“Don’t want to know the answers to. Yeah, yeah.” She sighed
and began chewing on a nail.

***

“Have you talked to Sage?” Erin asked, shifting her body
just enough that the air condition vent blew her scent straight into Marcelo’s
path.

He groaned on the inside and shifted to hide the evidence
of his arousal. It was uncomfortable pressed up against his leather pants. If
it were anyone other than Sage’s sister in the room, he would have seduced the
woman. After the fight with the sorcerers, he desperately needed release.
Something about bloodshed and sex…they just went together. Like bees and honey.
Swords and spears. Heads and pikes. Knives and…more knives.

And Erin smelled as delicious as whatever nonsense the
chef on TV was making. Already his mouth salivated for her. He forced his mind
away from the seductive fragrance of her flowery shampoo.

“I spoke with her mate, James,” he answered, bending the
truth a little.

“Mate?” She crinkled her nose. “Don’t you mean
boyfriend?”

A mate bond was much stronger than a mere dating relationship.
Stronger even than marriage, which was a human tradition, unnecessary for
immortals. But explaining that to a human was nearly impossible. Mates were
together forever - as in eternity. And for an immortal, that was a really long
time.

“You say boyfriend, I say mate.”

“Sounds so animalistic,” she said with her nose still scrunched.

He smiled devilishly. “And what’s wrong with
animalistic?” The image of taking Erin on all fours from behind popped into his
mind. Someone really should smack him.

Her brows descended as if she’d never thought of it
before. He wondered if she was a virgin.
Surely not, as
beautiful as she is.

“So…” she said sidling closer with a sly smile. “Do you
have a mate?”

He raised his brows, a smirk forming on his lips.
Curious, is she?

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t assume anything. I’m just
making conversation.” She acted casual enough but a slight blush spread across
her cheeks.

How to answer her question? Technically, mate pairings
were a chemical attraction driven by instinct only occurring in the
supernatural world. Natalia had been his wife in the human world, so she wasn’t
his mate…exactly. But she was still his wife. At least in his mind. As for
Natalia, since he hadn’t seen her in more than eight hundred years, he couldn’t
know. He’d wondered, throughout time, if she’d met the true death. But he’d
been too close on her trail to believe it.

In the last few centuries he’d learned a great deal about
his wife. The Huntress, they called her. She hunted werewolves, brutally
murdered them without mercy. No one knew why or who she worked for. Rumors
flowed through the werewolf packs and Marcelo had been surprised to find them
afraid of her. Her fighting skills were legendary. Some said she had unnatural
abilities that made caging her impossible. Some even claimed no amount of
silver could hold her. He’d spoken with a Scotland pack that’d had her in
custody just before Marcelo had arrived.

“The bounty is high on the lass,” the Alpha had told him.
“But holding her is like trying to seize the wind.”