Unexpected Eden (2 page)

“I told you I was willing to wait.” He tried for a lighthearted tone, no easy task. A decade of tracking one irresistible woman did crazy things to a man’s insides.

She zigzagged a look between Eryx near her red Jeep Wrangler and Ludan a stone’s throw away then glanced at the closed door behind her. She adjusted the purse strap at her shoulder and narrowed her blue-gray eyes. “You’re one step past stalker.”

He held up his hands. “I swear it’s not like that. I really do want to take you to breakfast.” So he’d gone a little further with his scan of her memories when they’d shaken hands than he should have. She always caught an after-work breakfast with a man who looked to be in his mid to late fifties, and she drove the Wrangler parked behind him.

“It’s nearly three AM.”

“And we’re all hungry. Perfect timing.” He lowered his hands and hoped Ludan wasn’t sporting his perma-scowl. Non-threatening wasn’t his strong suit.

“Smart girls don’t go to breakfast with strangers.” She nodded toward her Jeep. “Let alone get near a vehicle with unknown men nearby.”

“Your bartender pal clued me in.” Hopefully, she’d buy the lie, not that it felt good on his tongue. “And you could always call a friend to join us. Public place, your own car.” He paused to let the idea sink in. “What’s there to lose?”

A breeze ruffled her loose hair. Her face slackened and a flutter of energy drifted across the parking lot, barely perceptible.

Ludan perked up.

It was Lexi. It had to be. Humans couldn’t generate such a ripple—at least not any he’d ever met.

She tugged her purse to her chest and rooted around inside. “Waffle House. A few miles down the road.” A wad of keys settled in her palm, she dropped the purse back to her hip. “I meet a friend there after work. A cop, just to be clear. So don’t get any ideas.”

Satisfaction fired hot in his veins, the fact some strange older man would be along for the ride a paltry detail. He closed the distance, slow and steady, and traced the angle of her cheekbone.

Her eyes widened.

The Fates were never wrong. They might be coy with their reasons and damned vague in their instructions, but there was one thing he was sure of. They’d led him to his mate.

Chapter 2

Maxis Steysis cinched his victim’s wrists with a rope. With practiced efficiency, he secured the unconscious man’s legs in the optimum position, immobile and dangling off the edge of the rudimentary cot. “Slave!”

Damned zeolite. The mineral coated every inch of the tiny basement cell, its power blocking his Myren gifts and clawing at his very soul. He’d deal with it though, as he had countless times before. Power always came with a price, and Paul Renner had a power worth suffering for.

A rhythmic clang of metal resonated in the hallway. Gaze rooted to the floor, Brenna shuffled in with her basins.

He pointed to the corner near Paul’s feet. “In your place.”

In the candlelight, her ivory gown looked more like linen than the rough fabric it really was, and she quivered so violently even the dark braids at either side of her head shook.

Nabbing her at the malleable age of eight had been a stroke of genius. His first slaves had been too old, keeling over about the time they got good at their new lot in life. But this one—this one he’d sculpted to fit his needs and still had plenty of years left to burn. It was a tradeoff. Humans might be easy to control, but turnover was a bitch.

Maxis stuffed a hand towel into his prisoner’s slack jaw, and backhanded him across the cheek.

Still chloroform-groggy, the man blinked and shook his head. He rolled to face Maxis and jerked against the restraints, his shout muffled by the cloth in his mouth.

Maxis drew his dagger and the cold
zring
of metal on metal sliced through the room. He motioned with the blade toward the large metal basins. “Put them in place.”

Brenna jerked forward nearly fumbling the bowls to the stone floor.

Maxis tapped the flat of his weapon against his thigh. One would think after the number of times he’d done this, she’d be less skittish. Then again, she was human. They always cowered in the end, covering their asses even if it meant leaving someone else to suffer. Even a grief-stricken nine-year-old boy.

The memory brushed cold and hollow across his soul. The human boy he’d thought was his friend, trembling behind a wall of teenagers just as Brenna trembled now, while a bunch of human teens beat him until he’d had no fight left. He could have tolerated the fists, but the damning truths they’d mocked him with rattled his heart even now.

No human would ever hold such power over him again.

Eyes averted and fists clenched at her sides, Brenna shuffled back into her corner.

Paul’s struggles slowed, but his gaze bounced from wall to wall, his shallow breaths loud in the tiny space.

“It’s zeolite,” Maxis told him. “Your family won’t reach you here. Or anyone else.”

No doubt he’d still try, but his mind would only slam against the non-responsive crystal. Mental connections were natural for Myren family and mates, a telepathic link as instinctive as an animal’s need for air.

“I met your brother several weeks ago.” Maxis shifted and the candlelight spilled across the man’s drawn face. “A dull man, really. Can’t handle his liquor. Gets quite chatty when he’s been drinking.”

Paul stilled but for the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

“He told me about the unfortunate incident from your childhood. The one where you used your link to mentally shred your sister’s mind to bits.”

Maxis hunched closer to the man and the sweet scent of terror tickled his nose. “Frankly, I think it’s a waste you never used the gift again.” He leaned in and whispered, “I assure you, I won’t make the same mistake.”

Shaking his head, Paul tried to speak around the fabric, and a bead of sweat slipped down one temple.

Maxis hesitated. Maybe he should let the poor bastard have a word or two before he met his maker. He gripped a corner of the cloth. “No shouting. Understood?”

The man nodded.

Pulling the gag free, Maxis stood and cross his arms. “Speak.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Paul’s voice cracked. “I think you’ve got me confused—”

“I’m not confused.” Maxis shoved the man’s linen pant legs to his knees. “I scanned your memories while you were out to make sure what your brother said was true. You can kill anyone you share a link with by destroying their mind at any distance. It’s quite a unique gift, and I want it.”

“You’re crazy.” Paul tugged at the ropes. “You can’t do that. Only the malran can take someone’s powers.”

“He’s the only one who can naturally.” He lifted his dagger and twisted it, the blade flickering in the candlelight. “I found a way around it. Took me years and several wasted bodies, but I got there.”

The muscles along Paul’s neck and shoulders tightened as he strained against the ropes.

“Our powers stem from the brain, but getting past the natural defenses our bodies create is impossible under normal circumstances. There’s a moment though, just before a person passes to nirana, when the mind lets go, leaving the door wide open for an opportunist such as myself.” He clamped the man’s leg above the ankle and sliced Paul’s dorsalis pedis artery.

The man’s scream ricocheted off the walls.

Maxis quickly stuffed the gag back in place. The caterwauling raked at his nerves and the last thing he needed was to screw this up. A power like this wouldn’t come again for a very long while and it was the last he needed to fill his arsenal. For now.

He sliced through the same artery on the man’s other leg.

Rich blood spilled into the basins. The man’s skin grew paler and his eyelids fluttered.

Maxis felt for a pulse. Weak, almost ready.

With a quick slash of his blade, the ropes fell free. He scooped the unconscious man from the cot and dashed to the adjacent room. His powers surged back to life once past the zeolite-ridden threshold, and his skin tingled with the bite of fine electrical sparks.

He tossed Paul on the bed, gripped both sides of his head, and pushed his spirit deep into Paul’s mind. He sucked every gift the man possessed into his own body. There wasn’t time to be choosy. Better to swipe and run with it all than risk being buried in his psyche when he died.

Maxis’ vision faltered. He couldn’t breathe beyond the pain, the onslaught of the man’s skills reverberating against every nerve.

The man’s death-chilled face slipped from his fingers, and the lifeless body thudded on the thin mattress.

Heavy footsteps pounded down the wooden steps into the basement.

Maxis struggled to regain focus.

“Sir.” His spy’s clipped baritone cut through the room.

The muscles along his shoulders eased. He adjusted his long coat and turned. “You’d better have a damned fine reason for not trailing the malran as ordered.”

“You told me to contact you if the malran showed any unusual behavior, and I couldn’t reach you via link.” The man glanced at the lifeless heap on the cot behind Maxis and swallowed. “He’s made an…unusual…contact with a human.”

“Unusual how?”

His lackey flushed and shifted, uncomfortable. “As in, romantically.”

Interesting. Unlike some freer-thinking Myrens, Eryx normally kept his distance from humans outside of business. The ellan had been grumbling for years of Eryx’s disassociation from council matters. If the human in question had anything to do with Eryx’s absence, it might be worth some research.

“Not exactly a world class exposé, but something to investigate.” Maxis snatched a cloth from Brenna and swiped the traces of blood from his blade and fingers. “Give me his coordinates and I’ll follow up myself.”

* * * *

Headlights swept across the dash as Lexi pulled her Jeep into the Waffle House parking lot. Aside from Ian’s baseline brown sedan and the black and chrome Hummer settling into the slot behind her, the place was empty. The pimped-out black and chrome behemoth didn’t seem like Eryx’s style, but then, what did she know? A handshake and a parking lot conversation didn’t exactly make her his new BFF.

She killed the ignition and sucked in a fortifying breath. Why had she invited Eryx? Ian was bound to launch an inquisition the minute they sat down. Add her wonky response to Eryx’s presence and she’d be as fidgety as a ripe teenager on prom night before her first cup of coffee was done.

The memory of his fingertips against her cheekbone flared and a shiver snaked its way deep into her belly. Just like the phantom stroke she’d felt in the bar, his touch had been gentle, yet firm, a rasp against her skin. It seemed…familiar.

The door opened and Lexi flinched, smacking her knuckles against the steering wheel. “Jesus!” She snatched her purse from the passenger seat to cover her fluster and hopped to the ground with a glare. “You scared me.”

Eryx shut the door and smiled. “You looked like you were about to run. I figured I’d better take action before you could.”

She aimed a pointed look at the Hummer then turned for the door. “Flashy.”

“Not my style.” Eryx’s palm settled at the base of her spine, a comfortable weight that slowed her steps. “Ludan wanted leg room, so we took Ramsay’s.”

“Ramsay?” She reached for the door handle, but Eryx caught her wrist before she could connect and tugged her hand away, the heat of his chest tight against her back. Warm breath brushed her neck, a hint of mint mixing with the crisp spring night.

“My twin.” He released her, stepped away, and opened the door. “You’ll like him.”

God had made not one, but two of these delicious males? She strode into the restaurant with as much ambivalence as she could muster. “You’re assuming I’ll know you past breakfast.”

Ian stood, his take-no-shit expression trained on Eryx.

On, the bright side, he didn’t seem surprised by the additional guests, which meant he’d listened to his voice mail for once. The downside? He didn’t look too thrilled about playing Tonto.

Well, too bad. She needed an opinion unbiased by her undernourished sex drive and Ian was her only real friend to turn to. He’d get over it. Eventually.

“Ian, this is Eryx and…” Lexi leaned back and looked for Wingman, only to find him headed toward the barstools at the counter. “Ludan?”

“He’s not much on social.” Eryx reached past Lexi and offered his hand to Ian. “Eryx Shantos.”

“Ian Smith.” The man-to-man bit kicked in quick. A firm handshake. Pointed stares.

The whole thing made Lexi want to squirm. “You two going to duke it out or are we going to have breakfast?”

Ian broke the manly death clutch first, gaze still glued to Eryx with an unconvincing smile. “It’s a guy thing. We can’t help it.”

Guy thing, her ass. Ian had shot past helpful friend and darted right into nosy father figure.

He stepped back and motioned Lexi toward his side of the booth.

Lexi started forward, but Eryx snagged her wrist. “Sit with me?”

Simple, humble words, spoken low and with such sincerity that an unaccustomed pleasure fanned from head to toe. “I…”

Hazel eyes steady, Ian waited to take her lead. Whatever his thoughts on the situation, he made it clear the decision was hers.

Eryx’s touch drifted across her pulse.

Every nerve ending hummed. “Sure.” The word croaked from her tight throat and she slid across the yellow booth. At this point, her recourse seemed limited to hiding under the table or straddling Eryx with a demand he placate her hormonal version of Girls Gone Wild.

Denise sidled up to the table, tight black curls pulled into the same high ponytail she wore every night. Her makeup had worn off hours ago, likely in the middle of the post bar-hopper crush. “You having the usual?”

Lexi nodded and straightened the unused menus stashed behind the napkin holder.

Flipping to a fresh page on her note pad, the woman noshed out a few snaps from her bubble gum and focused on Eryx. “You?”

“I’ll have the same.”

Lexi craned her neck for eye contact. Damn but he was tall, which kinda sucked. Glaring up at a guy never held the same punch. “You don’t even know what ‘the usual’ is.”

“I don’t care what it is.” Eryx’s response was more volume conscious than her snarky quip, but it still carried. He slid his hand across the worn wood-patterned Formica and settled it over her white-knuckled fist. “I’m here for you.”

The smacking bubble gum stopped.

Lexi’s gut did a dive and barrel roll combo.

Ian pointed at the cup he’d been nursing when they arrived. “Just the coffee for me. I can’t stay long.”

Lexi glared at Ian. She could almost picture the cartoon bubble above his head:
You made your bed now lie in it.

“So, tell me about yourself, Eryx.” Ian glanced at Eryx’s hand on hers. “Where are you from?”

“I have a place here in Tulsa.”

Denise set two new cups of coffee on the table and Eryx asked for her pen. She dug into her stained brown apron and handed one over before hustling toward Ludan.

Ian plowed ahead with his questions. “And what do you do?”

“Geological work.” Eryx pulled out his wallet, snatched a business card, and scribbled on the back. “Lexi mentioned you’re in law enforcement.”

“Retired, actually. I do private investigations now.”

Eryx sat the pen aside. “My company does exploration for natural gas and minerals.” He slid the expensive card stock across the table with a look of unrepentant confidence. “If you want background, that should be enough to get you started. Ludan’s info is there too.”

Ian reclined against the booth and crossed his arms. “And will I find anything to be concerned about?”

Eryx lifted his coffee mug and took a leisurely sip, never breaking eye contact. “Not a thing.”

Lexi didn’t breathe. Hell, she was afraid to move. Part of her wanted to hug her friend, and another, more primitive part of her thought it might be wise to head on home. This much male posturing had to have dangerous side effects.

Ian relaxed, focused on her, and stuffed the business card in his pocket. “You give any thought to what we talked about yesterday?”

Lexi did a mental three-point turn. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Your jobs and school.” Ian leaned into the tabletop with one elbow and snatched her chin between his thumb and finger. “Those dark spots under your eyes aren’t going to go away if you keep this pace.”