Fallen Star (20 page)

Adulation? Had it really seemed like worship
to him? Probably. Jett had been especially gushy. “I know I can’t
go back and Tori would argue that I’ve gained more than I’ve lost.
But I miss it.”

“That’s understandable. Your life was
utterly focused for a very long time. Now your focus has expanded.
That’s all. It doesn’t mean dance can’t be part of your life. You
just have more options now.”

She chuckled and playfully shoved his arm.
“Way to sell it, Mr. Mystic. Did they teach you that crap at the
Conservatory?”

“No. The Conservatory was all about
self-denial and serving the greater good. Might be why I headed to
Bilarri as soon as I finished my training.”

“Did Bilarri feel like home?”

He glanced out the window and took a moment
before he answered, “I’ve yet to find a place where I feel
completely at home. That’s probably why I’ve traveled extensively.
I’m still searching.”

“I’m sorry. That must be hard.”

His lips quirked and he shot her a sidelong
stare. “Not nearly as hard as it could be.”

It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t
talking about home anymore. Men! They never changed. “You might not
know where your home is yet, but I know where to find mine. Can I
please go there now?”

“Soon. We have one more stop to make, then I
promise I’ll take you home.”

“I’ll sleep in my own bed tonight?
Honestly?”

“You have my word. You will sleep in your
own bed tonight.”

Nazerel looked at the progress Roxie had
made on Flynn’s tattoo and then glared at Flynn. “It’s amazing, as
always, but you were supposed to be home all afternoon. Just like
the rest of us.”

“I want this thing finished before we
leave.” Flynn lifted his chin and glared right back at Nazerel.
“Unless we take Roxie with us.”

Flynn was the only member of Team West
Nazerel trusted. They’d known each other before they came to Earth,
even before they were forced to leave the Shadow Maze. Flynn’s
half-brother was a sweeper who’d been assigned to Team South,
despite the loud protestations of his father. Flynn thought he
should have been chosen as alpha hunter rather than Zacharous and
most of the hunters here agreed with him. Nazerel wanted someone
strong at his back, yet needed someone uncertain enough to follow
his lead without question. Flynn fit the bill perfectly.

“If Roxie were in the notebook, someone
could claim her and Sevrin couldn’t argue with our choice. But
Roxie isn’t. I already checked.” The stubborn look on Flynn’s face
made Nazerel smile. He wasn’t the first to suggest they take Roxie
with them. She’d developed a loyal following. There was something
about being hurt by a beautiful woman that they all found
addictive. The art she created was just a bonus.

“So we do it anyway. Like you’re always
saying, it’s easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.”

“Not with Sevrin. She’d slit Roxie’s throat
and make us watch her bleed out. And I mean that literally.”

Flynn huffed out a sigh then shrugged.
“Well, I’m here now. What still needs to be done?”

Nazerel looked around the spacious house.
Boxes were stacked in every corner and still much remained
unpacked. It amazed Nazerel how much they’d managed to accumulate
in two short months. “Find a box and put your shit in it. It’s not
complicated, just time-consuming. The trucks arrive Friday morning.
Anything not boxed up and ready to go will be left behind.”

“So I just need to find a box big enough for
Roxie,” Flynn laughed as he headed for the front stairs.

“Give it up!” Nazerel returned to his own
packing as Flynn disappeared down a hallway. The house was
currently home to nine men when it was designed to accommodate
five. Hopefully the new house would be more manageable. If not, he
was going to harass Sevrin until she hired a housekeeper.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Sevrin let
herself in and crossed the foyer, heels clicking rhythmically
against the stone tiles. “Are you having fun yet?” Her voice echoed
off the vaulted ceilings until she stepped down into the living
room.

He allowed himself to acknowledge her
physical beauty. She looked particularly attractive in a snug skirt
of buttery leather. The matching vest was doubtlessly meant to be
worn over a shirt, but she let it showcase her round breasts and
sleek arms. Regardless of her appeal, he was too smart to mix
business with pleasure. Besides, Sevrin’s loyalty shifted without
warning. There was no way he’d make himself vulnerable to her
whims.

Ignoring her facetious question, he asked,
“What can I do for you?

She smiled, yet her unringed eyes remained
cold and calculating. She was pureblood Rodyte. There had to be
some sort of film covering her eyes. “Are you finally ready to take
my order?”

“Depends on the order. You respect my
boundaries and I’ll respect yours.”

“Is Flynn around?” Challenge warmed her gaze
while her smile turned brittle.

If she’d set her sights on Flynn, Nazerel
would be thrilled. Flynn was vain enough to think he’d caught her
attention all by himself, yet resentful enough to tell Nazerel
everything that happened behind closed doors. Still, the timing
couldn’t be worse for her to break in a new plaything. He needed
every set of hands if they were going to be ready by Friday
morning.

“We’re all really busy. Can this wait?”

She scowled at him and moved two steps
closer. “Would I be here if it weren’t important?” Even in sky-high
heels, her head only reached his chin. Did she really think she
could intimidate him?

Without shifting his gaze from her angry
face, he called out, “Flynn! Get your ass down here!”

Flynn rushed into view a few seconds later,
followed by two other members of Team West. “What’s the prob—” He
spotted Sevrin and immediately schooled his expression.
“Mistress.”

Sevrin waited until he reached the main
floor before she spoke to him, but her tone was clipped and cold.
“Did you visit Unique Ink this afternoon without an
appointment?”

After glaring at Nazerel, he returned his
gaze to Sevrin. “Roxie assured me that I wasn’t bumping anyone
else. If she’d had a customer, I would have left.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yes, mistress. It was selfish and
disobedient. I apologize.”

Much to Nazerel’s surprise she rolled her
eyes. “You’re not in trouble, silly boy. Stop groveling.” Flynn
snapped to attention and clasped his hands behind his back. The
pose stretched his T-shirt across his chest and showcased his
biceps. Sevrin took full advantage of the display. “Was anyone else
there when you arrived?” She circled him slowly as she waited for
his answer, her gaze moving up and down his body.

If any of them looked at her like that,
she’d have them beaten or worse. She was such a hypocritical
bitch.

“There was a customer on the couch looking
through the design books. But both Jett and Tess were available to
help her.”

“Male or female?” She completed her orbit
and studied his face.

“Female. Blonde. Sorry. I didn’t pay much
attention to her.”

“Damn.” She waved Flynn away. “Go back to
whatever you were doing.”

After a momentary pause, Flynn obeyed.

“Is there a problem?” Nazerel asked as
Sevrin turned to leave.

“I’m not sure yet. Roxie decided she needs a
receptionist and it’s the perfect opportunity for one of our
enemies to insert a spy.”

One of their enemies? Was she referring to
the human taskforce or were there even more threats than she’d
revealed? He started to ask her, but changed his mind. She enjoyed
making him beg for information. She enjoyed making him beg, period.
Well, he was sick of begging. In fact, he was sick of Sevrin’s
games.

“Does it even matter? We’ll be out of here
in a few days.”

“Depends how talkative your people became
while Roxie worked on them.”

Nazerel tensed. As usual, she was diverting
anything resembling accountability away from herself. She had
handpicked Roxie, insisted they use only her. “‘My people’ were
instructed to speak Rodyte as much as possible. Even if they ran
their mouths in front of Roxie, she wouldn’t have understood what
they said. The receptionist is irrelevant.”

Sevrin narrowed her eyes and stared past him
for a moment, obviously lost in thought. “You’re probably right,
but you know I hate loose ends. No more visits. As of right now,
Unique Ink is off limits.”

“I’ll make sure everyone knows.”

“Besides, it looks like you still have
plenty to do around here.” Without another word Sevrin
departed.

Roxie’s image formed in Nazerel’s mind, her
silky dark hair and kind eyes. She was an irresistible combination
of sweet and feisty. Little wonder every hunter who spent time in
her chair wanted to take her home with him. Similar thoughts had
flitted through his mind as she bent over him. Only grander
aspirations had kept him from acting on the impulse.

For the moment, Sevrin was fixated on the
receptionist. But it wouldn’t take long for her to realize the real
problem was Roxie. The receptionist could only learn what Roxie
knew. Roxie was the loose end. And Sevrin didn’t tolerate loose
ends.

He had to warn Roxie. The realization fisted
his gut and wouldn’t let go. He had a stash of money he’d squired
away because of Sevrin’s miserly habits. If he gave her the money,
would she run? Could he convince her that the danger was real? And
could he convince all of the hunters not to help Sevrin find her?
Unlikely. He fisted his hands and blew out a frustrated breath. She
needed a protector, someone who knew how to hide and owed no
allegiance to Sevrin.

The Mystic Militia was an obvious choice,
but Nazerel suspected that Roxie had a value he’d not yet
discovered. Las Vegas was filled with tattoo artists, yet something
specific had drawn Sevrin to Unique Ink. He didn’t believe in
coincidences, which meant there was something special about Roxie.
He wanted to keep Roxie safe, but he’d rather not turn a possible
advantage over to the enemy.

Other than the Mystic Militia, there was
only one person on Earth who met the qualifications. Gerrod
Reynolds. At least he came closer than anyone else.

Despite Sevrin’s promise to explain the
connection between his father and Gerrod Reynolds, all she’d
offered were vague half-truths and outright lies. It had taken him
four days and several bribes, but he now possessed a current
address for the mysterious Ontarian.

A calculative smile spread across his lips.
As Flynn pointed out, Nazerel generally found it easier to beg
forgiveness than ask permission, so he’d snatch the girl and take
her to Gerrod. It would be harder for Gerrod to refuse Roxie
protection once he’d seen her tear-streaked face.

Knowing he’d need an alibi, once Roxie’s
disappearance was realized, he moved into the foyer and called up
to the second level. “Flynn, toss me down a roll of tape. I’m going
to get started in the basement.” He’d already cleared out most of
the basement, but Flynn didn’t know that.

A roll of tape came flying in an
indiscriminate arc. Nazerel snatched it out of the air before it
shattered the mirror toward which it was headed. “Thanks. Asshole.”
He whispered the last under his breath as he stashed the tape in a
half-full box. This would only buy him an hour at most, so he had
to get moving.

He looked out the front window to make sure
Sevrin was really gone. It wouldn’t have been the first time she
sat in her car and watched what went on inside the house after they
thought she’d left. She was sneaky to the marrow of her bones.

Satisfied that the queen bee had flown back
to her hive, he closed the blinds and stepped away from the window.
Roxie was in for a shock, because he didn’t have time for
explanations. He flashed to her shop without lowering his shields
then waited until she was alone. As soon as Tess walked into the
storeroom, Nazerel clasped his hand over Roxie’s mouth as he
wrapped his other arm around her waist and flashed them toward the
suburbs.

She fought wildly, her efforts surprisingly
strong. He had more control when he wasn’t struggling with a
passenger, so he sent a pulse into her mind and commanded her to
sleep. His compulsions weren’t always effective, but she went limp
in his arms. Thank the gods.

Gerrod lived in a modest two-story,
surrounded by a sea of similar houses. Nazerel scanned ahead and
found a dark corner of the backyard in which to materialize. Roxie
was still unresponsive, so he lifted her into his arms and
approached the back door slowly. Many humans were fond of weapons
and he wasn’t in a position to defend himself at the moment.

He kicked the screen door several times then
stepped back so Gerrod could see the helpless female in his arms.
“I mean you no harm, but this woman needs your assistance.”

The porch light flashed on then off and
Gerrod slowly opened the main door while leaving the screen door
closed. “What the hell do you want?” Then more gravely, he asked,
“How did you find me?”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about her.” He
raised Roxie slightly, drawing Gerrod’s attention to her pale
face.

“What did Sevrin do to her? I’m no
doctor.”

“She’s not harmed, just frightened. May I
please bring her inside?”

He looked around, obviously concerned that
it was some sort of trap. Then he sighed and unlocked the door,
pushing it open so Nazerel could enter.

Nazerel found the living room and placed
Roxie on the sofa. She made a distressed sound, but didn’t awaken.
That was probably best for now.

“Do you even know who that is?” Gerrod
snapped from across the room. “Sevrin will kill us both if she
thinks we’ve harmed her.”

That froze Nazerel in his tracks. What the
hell was he talking about? “I brought her here because I was afraid
Sevrin would kill her. Were my fears unjustified? Who is she?”