Chaos Burning Page 6

  Chapter 6

  “I don’t know why you have to be so good at everything.” Lark looked up, and up some more until she met Simon’s gaze. He’d offered her the refuge of his home, as if by instinct he’d known she needed it, needed the solace of friendship and safety away from the ugly reality of her job.

  Nonplussed, he shrugged. “I could say the same of you.”

  She tossed her cards down. “Not with this hand.”

  He laughed. “Nope.”

  “Not like you don’t have enough money.” She waved a hand around.

  “It’s a nice life.”

  “Understatement.” She stood. “All right. I need a swim. I must tell you how many benefits there are to being your friend. Pool. Great land to run. Home gym to drool over. You’re pretty okay to look at too. Top-shelf booze. You like cards and scary movies and you never complain about how many calories are in whatever you’re eating.”

  “You’re always welcome to enjoy my place.”

  She did. And she appreciated it. Over the last month or so she’d been in Seattle, she’d come to really enjoy the time she spent at Simon’s house. And to value the friendship of the man who owned it. So funny how they’d clicked so well, right from the start. She had real friends in Seattle and the way things were going, the darkness descending on them, she’d needed that connection.

  “Thank you. I mean that.”

  There was a long moment between them and he shook his head as if to free himself from it. He grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever been here when you used the pool. I admit to being curious as to what you’d wear to swim in. Come on. I’ll meet you down there. You can make me lunch when we finish.”

  She socked his arm and her knuckles hurt. He was solid. Like a damned tank. And she couldn’t tell a lie, she was pretty interested to see how he filled out swim trunks.

  “Fine. You did grill the last time I was here. I suppose it’s my turn.”

  She headed into the spare room he’d generously assigned her. A place she could put her stuff when she came out to run or use the pool or garden. The view was stunning from in there. As it was pretty much from everywhere else in the house.

  Simon Leviathan had become a friend. A person who never judged, though clearly she amused him and possibly offended his sense of style. He played cards, drank, smoked cigars, stayed up late and had impeccable taste. He also enjoyed things like making bullets and going to the shooting range. He was a total dude, but in the least annoying way possible. Nothing to complain about at all except for the way they got constantly interrupted by women coming on to him. That bugged her. Yes, sure, she got that their thing wasn’t that kind of thing. But women who just walked up between a man and the woman he’s having a drink with to blatantly come on to the guy were jerks.

  Changing quickly, she gave herself a look over her shoulder at her back and butt. Helena had given her the suit for her last birthday. It showed more skin than she usually did, but it fit well and made her feel sexy so that was a win.

  Though she was more pale than usual because she’d been inside so much, the view still wasn’t that bad at all. Just because he was in the guy-friend camp didn’t mean she wasn’t going to look nice. He was, after all, ridiculously handsome so she’d be slacking if she didn’t at least try to keep up.

  Grabbing a towel, she headed through the breezeway toward the pool house. Not that she’d catch up to him in the looks category. He was beautiful. As if he’d just stepped from an issue of GQ for Others. Smooth. Debonair, clever. His clothes were expensive and tailored. They didn’t make his size off the rack anyway, so she supposed tailoring was a necessity.

  Not that he was unaware of his appeal. She found it charming. He knew he was hot shit and he worked it. Never to anyone else’s detriment, which is probably why it was charming instead of douchey.

  On the other hand, she was sloppy and silly and awash with color. She knew it and was just fine with it. It made her happy and that’s what counted. She’d given up trying to be something she wasn’t a long time ago. She wouldn’t be gorgeous and classy like Helena or Meriel. But she was Lark, one hundred percent, and that was important.

  SIMON didn’t know what he expected but he paused at the doorway to just look awhile. To look at Lark with her hair down as she put her towel on a chaise longue.

  Tiny, yes. Especially when compared to him. But she had curves she’d only hinted at in her normal daily outfits. In a bikini, this was not anything hinted at. The way the top clung to a spectacularly perfect set of tits didn’t hide a thing. Boy-short bottoms, which he approved of mightily, only accentuated her ass, which was high and tight and round. Longer legs than he’d thought.

  She was in shape, which he knew of course having worked out with her a few times. Her job would demand such a thing and she took care of her body like she took care of her weapons.

  Tattoos marked her back. Clan runes, he knew. Blue violets scattered from one shoulder to the opposite hip. There were others but she took that moment to turn and smile.

  “Wow. Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She said this as if he knew what she meant before she dove in.

  He joined her and they did laps for some time until she stopped in the shallow end. “You win. You’re a machine.” She headed to her towel and then settled herself on the chaise.

  “I’m not a machine, I’m Lycian.” He grinned and joined her.

  “Same thing apparently.”

  “Whiner.”

  She laughed then. “Totally.”

  “You hate to lose don’t you, little pixie?”

  “I do. You can’t imagine the sadness this used to bring my mother. She wanted us to be cooperative and nice to each other. She wanted a commune but she so didn’t get that. Instead my sister and I constantly challenged each other. Nothing is too small for us to compete over.”

  “I hear that. I’ve got a great many siblings and we’re that way as well.”

  “I imagine Lycian parents see this as a good thing.”

  “Have to protect the pack. It’s our job. It’s what we were born to do. But they don’t want us to really hurt each other. A little blood won’t kill you though.”

  “My mother would say, can’t you two just cheer each other on? Why do you have to fight?”

  “Because that’s how you get hard for battle.”

  She blinked up at him. “Yes, exactly. My father understands. He’s a hunter after all. But we’re his girls; he hates to see us get so cutthroat.”

  “I hear sadness in your voice.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got time.”

  She settled back and looked up, out through the glass roof covering the pool house.

  “Helena and I are ten months apart. We’ve always been close. Oh sure, we fight, we compete, that sort of thing. But I know without a doubt that if I needed her, she’d be there. Half the time I don’t even need to say it, she just knows. She’s my best friend. We grew up with a father who ran the hunter squad for the clan and a mother who reengineers felt into clothing and accessories and sells her wares online and at craft fairs. That’s not fair to my mother actually. She’s an artist and that’s what she does for a living. She’s amazing and creative and loving. But she’d cut anyone who tried to mess with her family. She’s actually scarier than my father on some levels.”

  Through the glass above them, she watched the sky, gray with late fall, and Simon just listened.

  “So anyway. As I said, we’re competitive, my sister and I. Every race she won, every award she got I needed to try for too. Needed to outdo. And it was the same for her. I’ve never felt jealous of her achievements. I just wanted to do as well. My father says it was that she and I were each other’s idols and so we felt like the only way to be good enough was to be as good as our sister.” She snorted. “That’s pretty close to the truth. Anyway, my father was attacked and nearly killed by a band of rogue werewolves. His recovery took months. In fact it was two years until he coul
d use his left leg fully again. So at that time, he had to step down and hand leadership of the Hunter Corps over to someone else. Edwina’s sister Rebecca holds the clan, as you probably know, and she told my dad the choice was his.”

  “Ah.” He nodded his head, assuming, most likely that he’d chosen one over the other and that started the problems.

  “Nah, that’d be too easy. I’m not easy, Simon. Just FYI.”

  He snorted a laugh and then reached out to give her hand a quick squeeze.

  “He didn’t choose Helena. He didn’t choose me. He appointed us both. Caused a huge issue, but he did it and he did it without flinching. To be honest, it was a good decision, especially at that time because things were in upheaval and my sister and I are very different when it comes to how we run our team. We complement each other, and especially did then. That was three years ago.”

  “My god, how old were you?”

  “Twenty-two.” She shrugged. “The year after we took over, she met a guy. Nice enough. He treated her well.”

  “Nice enough is not a compliment.”

  “I had no real reason not to like him. I was worried my wariness was more about my lack of a boyfriend than reality. I love my sister, I might kick her ass when we’re shooting targets or running a race, but I don’t want to see her hurt. So I kept my feelings to myself. I wanted to be supportive.” She blew out a breath. “She and I shared a house. There’s an inner courtyard and I was on one side and she was on the other. He was there all the time. So much that I started looking for another place to live. It was time, I told myself. She needed to be on her own with the guy she’d just gotten engaged to.”

  “Was this asshole human? I’m assuming he’s an asshole because this story isn’t going in a good direction.”

  Surprised, she snorted a laugh. “He’s not. Human that is. He’s totally an asshole. He’s a witch. A witch who showed up in my bedroom as I’d returned home from a patrol.”

  Simon knew where this was going and it got him pissed off. Any male who disrespected women needed a punch in the face.

  “He… came on to me. I turned him down. He got grabby. Which is pretty stupid, considering. I think maybe he figured the worst he’d get was a slap in the face. Instead, I kneed him in the balls and dragged him across the courtyard by the ear as I called my sister’s name. I was so angry, so offended on her part that I blurted it all out right then and there. I should have told her in private. But I was so mad.”

  “She didn’t believe you?”

  “No, she believed me all right. She believed me, threw him and all his shit out on the street and broke their engagement. Things have been… strained between us in the year since. I moved out a few months ago. I’ve been apartment sitting for a family friend who decided to trek across South America. In the time since that night our competition got worse. It became something else.” Horrified, she heard the tears thicken her voice. “God, I’m sorry.” She tried to wipe them away but he took her hand.

  “Sorry for what? Loving your family? Don’t apologize for hurting on their behalf.”

  “I don’t cry like this.” She shook her head, as if denying it to herself as vehemently as she did him.

  “So you left because she blames you?”

  “She wants to run the hunters on her own. It’s hard for her to see me because I’m evidence of that time she failed so badly. Jaansens don’t fail.” She bit her lip. Failure to their father had been worse than just about any wrongdoing other than lying or cheating. “Honor is everything. I… needed to get away so she could find her feet again. Without me. And while at first our differences in style were good for the corps, I don’t think it’s so true now. Now I worry we’ll peck each other until we can’t remember that once we were close and united.”

  “Maybe you need to find your feet too.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Thank you for sharing that story with me. I’m sorry things are so hard right now. It sounds like you’re doing the right thing for you and your sister though. I hope she sees that.”

  Lark liked to think of herself as a badass, but his last sentence snagged into her heart like a burr. She hoped that too.

  As if he realized she was too wobbly to talk about it anymore, he stood and she took the opportunity to look at him better. Better to look at that physical perfection than to think of her troubles. Good sweet baby Santa, he was a fine specimen. Tall. Broad shouldered. She got to her feet and moved closer.

  “What are these marks?” He had a full-sleeve tattoo on each arm and up the shoulder. She’d only seen them when they’d run together and he wore T-shirts. “Also, don’t let this go to your head but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a flatter stomach. The chicks must just jump on you right and left. Ha, why did I say that like I guessed it instead of having to wear armor just to get through the packs of them competing to see who gets to take you home every night.”

  He sent her a raised brow but the smirk ruined any authority he might have been trying for.

  “I do all right.” And then he frowned momentarily. “By the way, I noticed you and the werewolf, what’s his name, seem to have gotten pretty friendly.”

  She grinned. “His name is Tad. And yeah, he’s nice. I met him when I had a meet with the local pack. He’s a regular at your club, which is handy as I am there so often.” She loved Heart of Darkness. It was one of her places, made the transition to Seattle easier.

  “They’re all right. But be careful.”

  He was so grumpy about other wolves. It was sort of cute. “I’m going on a date with him day after tomorrow. I haven’t dated in a while. It’ll be good to do something different. Maybe even make out with someone.”

  One of his brows went up and she snorted because he was ridiculous and still sexy at it.

  He ran a hand up his other arm, over the marks. “Well, to get back to the subject, the tattoos are my family marks. With each achievement the pack Elders will mark the warrior’s skin. My grandmother did them all.” He pointed. “This is the first one. They took me twenty miles away to another valley east of my home and dropped me off. I had to find my way home.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Time works a little differently there, but it’s close to seven years old or so. This one is for the first time I drew blood in battle.”

  Seven? Jeez, she thought her dad was hard core. When she looked closely she could see wolves in the tribal markings. Without thinking, she touched his skin, so warm and taut. “Amazing work.”

  The place where she touched him tingled. She stood so close, he could scent her skin, the magick like warm spice. He was pretty sure she hadn’t touched his bare skin up to that point other than for a hand up or something innocuous.

  “Hurt like a motherfucker though.”

  She laughed. “The tattoo on my hip? Hurt so much that for a while every time I even heard the whine of a tattoo needle I wanted to jump up and run away.”

  “These are hand done in the old way. Hand dipped into ink, a row of needles tapped into the skin with wooden sticks. My father’s generation had them done with tools made of the bones of their ancestors.”

  “Really? That’s sort of awesome. Also, ouch.”

  “Most people are horrified by that. I should have known you’d get it.”

  She looked up at him as he looked down and something passed between them. Something new.

  “That’s a compliment.”

  He snorted and stepped back to try to get a breath not filled with her. That’s what was most likely getting to him. “Of course it’s a compliment. You think like a Lycian. More than any other witch I’ve known.”

  He jumped back into the water and began some hard, fast laps. He clearly needed to be working out more to get rid of all his pent-up energy.

  LATER that night she walked out with him to the rise beyond the lowest level of decking behind the house. The air was cold, but so clean. The night was quiet enough to hear the whisper of the wind through the trees, to hear
the magick of everything all around her.

  “I love this place.” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but once it was out she turned to Simon, who was busily taking his shirt off so she had to look.

  He paused and focused on her. “Thank you. Shall we run?”

  She’d never seen him change and while the idea of seeing the man naked was a very appealing one, the idea of seeing his beast was even more appealing. She was just that weird, she guessed.

  “Yes. Is it all right if I watch? You change, I mean. Um, change into your beast, not your clothes.” She mentally rolled her eyes at how clumsy she was sometimes.

  He dropped his pants and shorts and stepped from them, utterly and beguilingly naked. She tried not to think of that part. Ha. Much.

  “Of course.” And then his magick boiled from him, washing over her and the space around them in warmth, the scent of it heady, the forest, the trees, that scent of fur and beast. The air sort of shimmered, as if he were under water and moved and she couldn’t quite focus on it. And then there stood the biggest freaking werewolf she’d ever seen.

  “Holy cow, you’re gigantic.” And beautiful. Honey-colored with some black and deep auburn on his legs.

  His eyes shone with intelligence. He’d told her that even in his shifted form he still thought and understood things as a man did, though he shared his consciousness with his beast, who took things in a far more elemental way.

  “Can I?” She held her hand out, not quite touching, but really yearning to know what that fur would feel like.

  He leaned into her, nearly knocking her over, which she guessed was his okay to touch. So she did. Soft. She pressed her face to his neck and breathed his magick in as her hands tunneled through his fur. He stayed still as she explored him and when she stepped back she had to catch her breath.

  “Awesome. Let’s run.”

  They took off into the forest, the wolf leading the way as she followed. Her eyesight was that of a hunter, keen and good in the dark. She knew the path well enough to avoid tripping or falling, though she had a few times when she’d first started running out here.