From the Ashes (Force of Nature Book 1) (5 page)

Mine too, for that matter.

“What happened to Kingston and the others?” I asked, my face still pressed tightly to Dean's chest.

“Some met untimely ends. Others ducked through portals like the chicken shits they are.”

“So I wasn't imagining that then? They really did come out of nowhere?”

“Yep. Motherfuckers are sneaky like snakes. Never, ever trust a warlock.”

“It was an ambush,” Jase called from behind me. “It had to be. What other reason did he have to be lurking where he was?”

“Unless we stumbled upon something else,” I suggested, knowing full well that the warlocks were into some shady dealings with humans, though those particular humans had no knowledge of who and what they were actually dealing with.

“Like what?” Jase probed, taking me by the shoulder to turn me around.

“I don't know...you name it. Drugs. Guns. Prostitution. All of the above.”

“With humans?” Dean asked incredulously.

“Yep.”

“That can't be right,” Jase said thoughtfully. “Reinhardt would never stand for that. He's no saint, but he's above that. And he sure as hell isn't careless. Interactions with humans that go beyond the occasional lay or casual work relationship are strictly forbidden by all factions of the supernatural. It's written in the treaty itself. The exposure risk is too great. There's no way Kingston could be doing that shit without repercussions from his own kind, let alone all the others.”

I shrugged, not knowing what to say. I'd seen it with my own eyes long before I'd ever come to live under the protection of the king and his enforcers. There was no doubt in my mind that what I’d told him was a viable reason for Kingston's appearance in the alley that night. And I wasn't nearly as convinced that Reinhardt, their leader, would have disapproved.

“Something else to report, I guess,” Jase said with a sigh.

“What will happen now?” I asked, concerned for what would happen to us all, knowing that carrying out supernatural business that publicly was also forbidden. Dean may have cleaned it up, but there was just no way to be sure that nobody had seen the battle, the raging blue inferno, or the bizarre tornado that had ripped through the business district before disappearing. The odds were not in our favor.

“It'll be fine, Piper. Don't stress out about it,” Dean said casually. But when I looked up at him, there was nothing casual about his expression as he stared over the top of my head at Jase.

“Do you think they got the message?” I asked, wondering if the warlocks might finally leave me alone now.

A dangerous pair of smiles overtook the brothers' faces.

“I think you'll find that Kingston isn't a problem anymore,” Jase finally offered.

“Is he dead?”

“Worse,” Dean said with a laugh.

“What's worse than dead?” I pressed.

“Useless,” Jase said callously. I knew he didn't mean anything by it, but his reply cut through me like a knife. He clearly saw my flinch at his words and came to stand directly before me, placing both hands on my shoulders. “Piper, you are far from useless. You are untrained. That isn't the same thing.” I tried to force a smile, but it was a weak attempt. One that he saw right through. “C'mon. Merc hates waiting. He's not especially patient. I'll let Dean detail the whole fight on the way home.” Jase looped his arm around my shoulder, ushering me toward the SUV down the road. “But I get to tell you the best part.”

I looked up at him to find a genuinely amused expression on his face.

“And which part is that? The part where none of you died?”

He leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

“No. The part where I cut off Kingston's hands.”

* * *

After we returned home, I collapsed into my bed the second I entered my room. I was emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted. I wanted to sleep off what had almost happened that night and ignore the impending consequences that we were certain to face the next day, even if Jase maintained that there wouldn't be any. I knew better than that. I'd been at the mansion long enough to see what happened to those who bent the rules.

Sleep would provide the perfect safe haven for several hours.

It didn't take long to feel the depths of slumber pulling me in. Once there, I found myself lying naked in an unknown bed in an unfamiliar room. It was clean, modern, and masculine, and I seemed strangely at peace there, luxuriating in the feel of the soft sheets against my skin.

Then my leg brushed up against someone.

Startled, but not frightened, I rolled over to find Merc lying next to me, his hands tucked behind his head, his eyes closed. My heart raced at the sight. I inched closer to him, wanting to assess him the way he had me. There was a serene quality about his face that almost looked wrong on him. How could one so deadly appear so placid?

Suddenly feeling bold, I wove my arm over his stomach, teasing him with trailing fingertips. His eyes opened slowly, falling immediately upon me. Then his body followed. Pinning me to the bed with his formidable weight, he hung his head down, his lips a hair's breadth from mine.

My heart skipped a beat.

“Time to wake up,” he said, though his mouth never moved. The sound of it was distorted and fuzzy, like listening to the radio while submerged in water.

With my heart now hammering in my chest and my breath caught in my throat, I awaited his touch. Silently, I begged for him to lay his hands on me—pleaded for his lips to meet mine. Arching my back and extending my neck, I tried to close the distance between us. The anticipation of what could happen next was almost more than I could bear.

“Piper, seriously! Wake the fuck up!” the voice called again, though this time it sounded strange—far away. And female.

A pillow to the side of my head jarred me from my sleep, leaving me frustrated and confused. The dream had seemed so short, so real. Waking to find myself alone in my bed, an irritated-looking Kat hovering over me, was not what I'd envisioned.

“You need to get downstairs,” she said, staring at me like she had a bone to pick with me for some unknown reason.

“I'm getting up,” I grumbled, wiping my eyes.

“You guys,” she grumbled under her breath. “You guys are in some real shit.”

Before I could get her to elaborate on why, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

I sat up in bed, trying to remember the details of the dream I'd had, but they seemed beyond recollection. It was as if it had never happened. I started to question if that wasn't the case. But there was a lingering sensation deep in my core, a feeling of need that hadn't abated when I awoke. Something had caused it.

And his name was Mercenary.

3

I stumbled out of my room, still sleep-drunk and hungover, and made my way down the butler's stairs to the kitchen. I needed coffee and lots of it. A croissant wouldn't have hurt either, but I doubted we had anything like that lying around unless the pastry gods were watching out for me.

They, like all the other gods, usually weren't.

I peeked around the corner to find that the coast was clear, then made my way over to the coffeemaker and got down to business. It was pretty clear when Kat woke me up that she was pissed. I needed to talk to her to find out what had her so riled up. But there was no way I was even going to attempt that until I had at least two cups of the black liquid-of-life coursing through my veins.

Maybe three.

On the counter next to the coffee machine was an iPod dock, equipped with the iPod I had left in it a couple of nights ago. I scrolled through until I found something cheery that would pick me up and prepare me for a potential battle with Kat. The speakers sprang to life with a peppy 80s song that always put a smile on my face. I bopped around the kitchen, acquiring the things I needed to brew a monster-sized pot of coffee. Wearing only my boyshort undies and a white tank, I danced like an 80s queen.

Tom Cruise a la
Risky Business
would have been jealous.

It was a gift to be able to bounce around and not spill the water as I filled the reservoir at the back of the coffeemaker, and I had it in spades. I turned around to refill the pot and found myself prancing toward a formidable figure leaning against the far wall of the room. I yelped, managing not to let out the full-blown scream that wanted to escape.

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed, clutching my chest. “You scared me.” While I battled to control my breathing, I realized that I was standing virtually naked in front of Merc. And judging by the level of his gaze, that little detail had not been lost on him.

I quickly put the pot down and crossed my arms over my chest, hiding the rest of me behind the cover of the island. There was an intensity in his stare—a familiarity to it—that made me squirm. Apparently the dream I'd had that night had been more real to me than I'd thought.

If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought it was real to him too.

“Do you want some coffee?” I asked nervously, cursing my lack of clothing and need for a caffeine fix. I should have gone after Kat as soon as I’d gotten up, but instead I’d sought refuge in the kitchen and that plan had backfired miserably. Evasion, distraction, and diplomacy had long been my tactics. They were how I'd survived on my own. And it was time to employ them with Merc.

He looked at me strangely, silently refusing my offer.

“Right,” I admonished, shaking my head slightly. “Probably not a big fan of the stuff.”

He took a step deeper into the room, right toward me. All that separated us was the huge square island that I was hiding behind. Not much of a barricade to a two-hundred-plus-pound vampire.

“It's great for hangovers,” I continued, pretending not to notice his approach. “I usually don't party that hard, though. Never could handle my booze very well. But coffee is my best friend the next day. Don't know how I'd survive without it on mornings like these.” I turned to grab a mug from the cabinet. Giving him my back (or my butt, as the case might have been) wasn't something I wanted to do at all, but I needed to appear calm, collected, and unfazed by his presence, even if I was anything but. I also needed to keep talking. “I swear Dean hides my favorite cup at the top just to piss me off,” I said, straining to reach the top shelf. I held my tank top's edge down with my other hand, not wanting to expose any more skin than I already was. “Your brother can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.”

I was as far up on my tiptoes as I could possibly be, and still I could barely touch the handle of the mug, my fingers grazing it before I'd waver slightly and lose contact with it. Anxious and frustrated, I reached up one last time only to miss again. This time, however, my height wasn't the issue. The large hand holding the cup above me was.

I could feel Merc behind me. He had to be only an inch or two away, his massive frame looming as he reached over me into the cabinet for the object I desired. I froze, but my heart raced uncontrollably. As I stood there, paralyzed with growing panic, his arm wrapped around in front of me and placed the
Morning Princess
mug down on the counter.

“Thanks,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. My nerves had closed it down too tight to speak normally. When he didn't reply (not that I expected him to), I hazarded a glance up over my shoulder at him while he remained behind me, unmoving. His gray-blue eyes nearly bore through mine just like they had when he’d saved me. Just like they had in my dream. And just like on those occasions, despite my growing anxiety, I could not look away from him.

I was utterly entranced.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he cocked his head to the side, moving it toward me. I gasped, memories of the dream I'd had flooding my mind—accompanied by the sensations it had sent through my body. Knowing the warnings I’d been given by the boys and Kat, I should have run from that room, screaming for help from anyone around like I'd been told to. But instead, I stood there awaiting whatever he had planned. The potential consequences of not fleeing seemed swallowed up by anticipation. It made me question if the warlocks hadn’t been right about me after all.

Maybe I was too stupid to live.

With his head hung low to reach mine, his lips dangerously near my ear, a voice cut through the kitchen, startling me. I jumped, flinging my hands out wildly around me. My
Morning Princess
mug flew through the air and crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.

The first casualty of the day.

“Piper!” Kat shouted, her tone chastising. “We've been looking all over for you!”

“Sorry,” I replied, slinking away from Merc. “I just wanted to wake up fully before the shitstorm settled in.”

“Yeah well, it already has. Jase and Dean are expecting a call from the king any minute. They're trying to get their story together, and you need to be there to vouch for them.” Her angry eyes fell on Merc, then widened slightly. “I'll take you to them now, Piper. Let's go.”

“Yeah, okay,” I replied, stepping over the shards of my favorite mug.

“Maybe you should put some damn clothes on first,” she scolded as I walked past her. “If things go wrong, you'll be heading over to see the king instead of settling this over the phone.”