Phoenix Contract: Part Five (Fallen Angel Watchers) (5 page)

“That bastard! I’m going to kill him!” Aiden exclaimed, bouncing to her feet as her awareness returned to the right time and place. She was covered in a cold sweat, and the jade bowl slipped from between her numb fingers into Madame Ah-Loi’s waiting hands.

“Gentle child,” Madame Ah-Loi soothed, shushing Aiden. “Did you learn what you sought?”

Biting off more invective that the old woman did not deserve to be subjected to, Aiden sputtered and reined in her anger with a monumental effort. She’d deal with Magnus later.

“Yes, I did. Thank you,” Aiden replied, continuing to adjust to the startling transition from past to present. Had she really been there or was the whole thing just a dream? Aiden watched as Ah-Loi returned the jade bowl to its place upon the table. “I am in your debt.”

“It is an honor to serve our rightful leader,” Ah-Loi said with a graceful bow of her head. “House Baraqijal is loyal. We have foreseen and awaited your return for five centuries, Phoenix.”

“Oaths of loyalty are a bit premature, considering,” Aiden replied, resorting to irony because awe had robbed her of poise.

“The sun sets,” Ah-Loi announced.

“Already?” Surprised, Aiden looked up and wondered how long had she had been in that trance.

“It is time to go claim your destiny,” Ah-Loi instructed, herding Aiden toward the door.

“Great, no problem,” Aiden said. “I’ll just go ask nicely for the return of the Heart, and I’m sure the thousand-year-old vampire will be happy to give it back.”

“You must bring unlikely allies to aid your cause,” Ah-Loi said. And with that final piece of cryptic advice, the seer shooed Aiden through the shop’s front door. Outside, it was indeed early evening.

“There’s a reason House Baraqijal has such strong ties to the fortune cookie industry,” Aiden muttered. She shoved her hands into the pocket of her coat and ducked into the nearest subway, trying to decide where to go next.

Aiden wound up on the Faulkner University campus. As she made her way toward the Archaeology Building, an impending dread grew in her gut. She meandered and dragged her feet, because the prospect of what awaited her in the study was daunting.

Halfway across campus, a dark figure, separate from the shadows, headed in her direction. Aiden stopped, expecting Magnus, but then a second shady form joined the first.

Uneasy, she changed course and veered off toward an overgrown walkway that led between thick hedges. Her suspicion morphed into real fear when the pair followed her, eliminating the possibility that they were fellow students.

Aiden quickened her pace and tugged her cell phone out of her pocket. She pulled up her call list and scrolled down to Magnus’ number, the second to last one she’d dialed. Information was the most recent.

Magnus answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“I need help. Someone’s following me,” she whispered, darting off the path and ducking down to hide behind a low hedge.

“Where are you?” he asked.

She heard the rustle of movement in the background and wondered if she’d woken him. The sun had only barely set minutes before. “I’m on campus between the Admin building and Student Services, but I can’t stay put…” She froze in place as footsteps approached.

The two males following her spoke in soft, incomprehensible tones. They grew closer and then walked right past Aiden’s hiding spot. She held her breath as they passed, and she didn’t move again until she could no longer hear them.

“Aiden? Are they gone?” The Celt’s tone was urgent and demanding. “I’m coming.” A door slammed across the line, and she knew the second he made it outdoors he’d be airborne.

“Yes, I’ve lost them for the moment,” Aiden said. “But I can’t stay in this hedge forever. How’re you going to find me?”

“Do you still have the whistle?” he asked.

Aiden muttered a muffled curse at her own stupidity and grabbed for the sterling silver chain around her neck. She jerked it free of her shirt and wrapped her hand around the small steel dog whistle.

“I’ve got it,” she said, rising from her crouch. She peered around the edge of the hedge and down the pathway. It was clear in both directions.

“Good, I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

“Kay, bye.” Aiden snapped the phone shut and shoved it into her pocket. Then she darted out onto the pathway and doubled back. She kept low enough to use the surrounding foliage as cover. She broke into a jog which made her purse bounce against her side with every stride. The heavy weight served as a grim reminder of the gun in her bag.

A shout from behind her signaled that she’d been spotted. Giving up on staying low, Aiden straightened and sprinted down the pathway toward the Admin Building. Unfortunately, it wasn’t dark enough yet to lose them, but with any luck, she could evade her pursuers long enough for Magnus to arrive.

The irony of turning to Magnus—a proven killer—for protection wasn’t lost on Aiden, but she couldn’t afford to indulge idealism at the expense of practicality. Magnus had committed at least one terrible crime in his questionable past, but that didn’t change the fact that Mariah’s murder had been five hundred years ago.

Living in the here and now, Aiden desperately wanted to believe that the Celt had changed. She wasn’t going to allow herself to forget what Magnus had done, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she was about as in-over-her-head-and-in-need-of-help as they got.

Ahead on the path where the vegetation ended, a man stepped out from behind a hedge and blocked her path. Realizing with renewed fear that there was more than just two men after her, Aiden stumbled and missed her stride.

“I see you’ve been leading those two on a wild goose chase, but I’ve caught you!” The man in front of her sprouted an irrepressible grin and spread his arms as if they were playing tag.

The large man in his early twenties had red hair and gold-flecked hazel eyes. A smattering of freckles like scattered paint covered his nose and cheeks. His wide grin showed off even rows of gleaming white teeth, and the mischief in his eyes gave the impression of an unfailing good nature.

He appeared to regard their current situation as a game, but Aiden lacked both his perspective and his cheerfulness. She was frightened, angry, and inclined to inflict some bodily harm.

The voices of the men behind her grew louder and closer, and Aiden reached a hasty decision. She had better odds against one opponent than two. Rushing forward, Aiden attempted to dart past the man in front of her.

Of course, it was a long shot, and she wasn’t surprised when an arm wrapped around her waist. Laughing, the man lifted her off her feet and maintained only a loose hold. Obviously, he didn’t regard her as a physical threat. Either that, or he was a careless idiot. Maybe both.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

“Really? Cause I’m gonna hurt you,” Aiden gasped.

Twisting cat-like in his grip, she slammed her fist into his face and scored a clean hit on his nose. He gave a pained yelp and his hold on her released as he threw up his arms to protect his face. She followed through, bringing her knee into his crotch. Wearing a classically funny face—an Oreo mouth and arched eyebrows—the man slowly dropped to his knees, clutching his private parts.

A howl of laughter greeted Aiden as she turned and came face-to-face with a carbon copy of the man she’d just downed. She performed a double take and then realized they were identical twins.

“Oh, Rory, you’re getting your ass kicked by a little girl! You’re just killing me, man!” Rory’s twin chortled but retained enough presence of mind to keep his guard up against Aiden. He had apparently learned from his brother’s mistake.

Pounding feet and heavy breathing announced the arrival of the two men following her. Thinking fast, Aiden released a wounded moan and sank to the ground, making sure that her purse was beneath her as she knelt.

“What happened?” one of the new arrivals demanded. He assumed command, his voice deep and powerful, so Aiden labeled him the leader.

“We caught her,” Rory gasped through gritted teeth.

“And she kicked Rory in the balls,” Rory’s twin supplied, hyena hawing.

“Shut up, Culkin!” Rory snarled.

Aiden took advantage of their distraction to thrust her hand into her purse. Groping for the .45, she writhed and moaned to disguise her movements.

“No, what happened to
her
, you idiots?” leader-guy asked. “You weren’t supposed to hurt her.”

“We didn’t, Kieran. Honest,” Culkin replied, adopting a defensive tone. Then he cackled. “But she sure hurt Rory!”

Once Aiden’s hand made contact with the gun, she slid her fingers into position. She drew back the hammer and groaned loudly to disguise the click. Leader-guy, Kieran, muttered a curse and bent over her. He gently touched her shoulders.

Both of his hands were empty. Good.

“It hurts,” Aiden whimpered pitifully, summoning tears as she toggled the thumb safety.

“Damn brutes,” Kieran muttered, furious. “Here, let me help you.” He circled around to face her and made an effort to pick her up.

“No, I want to stand,” Aiden protested. She struggled weakly, increasing the volume of her “hurt little girl” noises until he ceased trying to carry her in his arms.

“Okay, okay, stop fighting me! Here, I’ll help you stand.” He placed his hands on her upper arms and lifted her experimentally.

Aiden allowed him to take all of her weight, contributing nothing to the effort. She kept her arms folded against her abdomen, the gun concealed, until she was upright. They were practically hugging.

When she could no longer keep her weapon concealed, Aiden grabbed hold of the man’s belt with her left hand and shoved the gun into his stomach. He became deathly still as he recognized the cold metal barrel for what it was.

“Do you know what this is?” Aiden demanded. Staring up into his face, she got her first good look at him.

He towered over her at six foot something, so she had to crane her neck in order to examine him. He was handsome, which was really a shame, because it seemed like only really cute boys she met anymore were bad guys.

Unlike the twins, Kieran had thick black hair worn short in a crew cut that boasted military precision. He had bright blue eyes and a generous mouth. At the moment, the corners were turned down into an unhappy pout. Judging just by the hard abs beneath the .45’s muzzle, he was in great shape.

She secured her grip on his pants and made sure that the muzzle of the weapon remained right up against his stomach. If he got the chance, he could easily overpower her, and if she was forced to pull the trigger, then her ruse was blown.

Kieran nodded, solemnly and slowly. “Guys, she’s got a gun. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

An answering chorus of assent seemed to affirm that the other three would attempt to refrain from further stupidity.

“Smart boy,” Aiden drawled, even though he had to be at least twenty-five. “I’m betting that you’ve already been to the Archaeology Building and seen the bodies, so you know that I can and will use this. Now, I’m a lot shorter than you, so at this range I’ll be blowing off something a lot lower than your head. To quote my favorite pirate, savvy?”

Dark lashes swept down and then up in a slow blink over intelligent blue eyes. “Savvy,” he confirmed. “But before you start shooting, how about just listening to me for a minute? We’re not your enemy. We’re the good guys.”

“That’s not how it looks from my perspective,” Aiden said. Tugging at Kieran’s belt, she forced him to walk with her, moving several paces so that they were no longer surrounded. “So, chasing women around in the dark is just your idea of fun? Talk, you’ve got one minute.”

By backing up, she got a better look at the other three men. The bunch of them were six feet tall, at the shortest, making Aiden feel like a sapling in a forest of redwoods.

“We’re
Of the Blood -
House Armaros - and we were sent to help. My name’s Kieran.” He gestured toward the twins. Rory had finally gotten back on his feet, but still wore a grimace that was distinctly at odds with his brother’s grin. “That’s Rory and Culkin, whom you’ve already met, tho’ don’t ask me which is which.”

“Not like it makes a bit of difference. They’re both equal idiots,” intoned the fourth man, speaking for the first time. Up until then he’d lurked near the back of the pack and done nothing to draw attention.

“Oh really?” Aiden drawled, glancing in his direction. She wasn’t relinquishing the gun just yet, but her posture relaxed marginally.

Culkin’s unwavering grin was damn infectious.

“That’s Tristan,” Kieran supplied grudgingly.

“Hey,” Tristan muttered. Of the four, he was easily the youngest, barely out of his teens, and the shortest at a mere six feet. Tristan was also the best looking, drop dead, movie star gorgeous, as opposed to merely handsome. He had shaggy blond hair that hung to his shoulders and fell forward into his face.

Aiden felt her breath catch as stormy sea green eyes bore holes in her soul. “Are you Niall Talcott’s son?” She had the distinct pleasure of thoroughly surprising him.

Tristan’s eyes widened. “Grandson,” he corrected. Anger and shame darkened his gaze at the admission.

Aiden noted his reaction.
Hmm... Interesting...

Scowling, Tristan moved forward a pace so Aiden could get a better look at him. His proximity made her want to jump out of her skin. While she looked at him, he gave her a thorough once over at the same time. Not a one of the men were hard on the eyes, but Tristan set her nerves to tingling.

“Are all of you related?” Aiden asked, dragging her gaze from Tristan. Aside from their physical differences, they gave the distinct impression of shared kinship. The lot of them reminded her of a group of boys, full grown, but boys, and possibly brothers.

“Brothers,” Kieran supplied.

Making a quick judgment call, Aiden released her grip on his belt and withdrew the .45 from his stomach. The simple fact was that the four of them were almost too goofy and good-natured to make her feel threatened.

With the withdrawal of the gun, Kieran released an audible sigh of relief.