Mystic Ink (16 page)

Nix glanced over at Ares, his face impassive—almost bored. Aurelia’s dire warning played back in Nix’s head. They were provoking Cal. If he lost control and broke free, the punishment would start all over again. Despite his mental strength, Cal’s body might not make it. Nix wasn’t willing to gamble on the chance.

She relaxed in Strife’s arms, ignoring her own disgust. Nix was ninety-nine percent sure that Strife couldn’t actually hurt her. Not with neutrality in play. “Cal. Look at me. I’m okay. This is no big deal.”

Cal growled, panting heavily. He stood up and pulled on the chains again. Damn it, she had to reach him.

“Cal! Cut the shit already.”

He stopped thrashing. When his gaze was finally focused on her again, she resumed talking. “One more strike,”— She wanted to gag at the thought—“Beers back at my place. I promise. Come on, no one has a better whip arm than Shyama. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Cal ground out the word. He sank back into himself, his gaze distant again.

When Strife ran his tongue down her neck, she acted like she didn’t care. Cal didn’t react, ignoring any further attempts to goad him.

“Well, this is no fun.” Strife pushed her away. “Come on, Chaos. Do it and let’s leave this place.”

The whip cracked against Cal’s back like a lightning bolt. Cal shuddered, but found the strength to stay upright.

“All right, kiddies. Show is over.” Ares pointed to Chaos and Strife. “You two, find some third world country to fuck up and leave me alone. Daddy has important work to do. Off you go.”

Magic swirled around the room. Small pops burst out as the sons and daughters of Ares whisked away.

Aurelia was the last one left. She unclasped the shackles, Cal’s blood staining her fingertips. Task completed, she faced Nix. “I now release you. Go in peace. Take good care of him.” Then she vanished.

Nix ran over to Cal and shouldered his weight as he tried to stay vertical. “Ares, you prick. They could’ve killed him. Are you trying to make him a Shade?”

Ares shook his head. “I would not have let that happen.” He paused, his fingers tapping the bottom of his chin as if weighing a decision, then he smirked and placed his index finger on the center of Nix’s forehead. “Funny. I seem to remember one of your older sisters had the ability to heal wounds.”

A warm sensation entered her skin. Only the effort of keeping Cal upright prevented her from knocking Ares’ hand away. “What did you just do?”

Ares ignored the question. “Soothe his wounds and he will be better by nightfall.” With a flourish, Ares transported them to the driveway of the beach house where Cal’s car remained parked in the driveway. How considerate of the jerk.

“Come on, let’s fix you up.” Nix helped Cal into the first floor washroom and sat him on the closed toilet lid.

“I’ll be all right in a few hours.” He swatted at her hand as she approached with a towel.

“Cal, let me help you.” Nix wanted to smack him. Stubborn, just like his father.

“Lay me out on a beach blanket with a beer.” He stood up, spine straight, his back cut to ribbons.

“You can’t go out on a public beach looking like a murder victim.” Nix turned on the shower. “Can you stand the water?”

“Not really, but I’ll keep my back to the wall.”

After a struggle shucking off his blood-soaked jeans, Nix left him to deal with his underwear. Funny, she would have thought he was the commando type.

Gods. She disgusted herself.
Thinking about his undergarments
, she thought as she headed to the dank cellar. She tossed the jeans and his T-shirt into the wash. Too bad Ares hadn’t thought of providing Cal with clean clothes. She rummaged through the bedroom closets until she located swim trunks that would fit him. He couldn’t lay naked on the beach either.

Even though she would enjoy that view. Gah! No more.

While Nix waited outside the bathroom, Ares’ words replayed in her mind.
Soothe his wounds
. The solution came to her, as if the tumbler in a lock had been correctly manipulated. She closed her eyes and concentrated on healing. Seizing control of the water spurting from the showerhead, she sent tendrils of power snaking along the wounds in Cal’s back, blending her magic with the water in Cal’s blood and tissues.

It took all her concentration, but the wounds knitted back together. Damaged sinews and shredded muscle repaired. Skin re-grew. Old scars were erased.

The shower abruptly turned off. The shower curtain hooks clanked as it was ripped aside. Dark spots danced in her vision . . . the floor retracted, slipping out from under her feet.

“Nix! Nix! Are you all right?”

She heard Cal’s voice as if from a great distance away. She forced open her eyes and Cal’s concerned face filled her vision. She must have blacked out. She was ass flat, back against the wall.

“I’m okay.” She leaned forward and gripped his arm. “How do you feel?”

A slow grin spread across Cal’s face. “Pretty damn good.”

Nix punched him in the biceps. Since he was okay, he had some explaining to do.

“What was that for?” Cal rubbed the spot, confusion on his face.

“You tricked me. With the whole neutrality thing.” Nix folded her arms across her chest so she wouldn’t strike him again. Only harder.

Realization dawned on Cal’s face. He extended his hand to her and waited for her to accept it. When she continued to scowl at him from the floor, he joined her against the wall. “Ahh, that.”

“Yeah,
that
,” she tossed back at him. Guess she was angrier than she wanted to admit. “I thought we were in this together. Partners.”

“We are. And I’m thankful that you trusted me enough to do as I asked without arguing about it.”

Well, didn’t he just make her feel like a child stomping her feet? She couldn’t let it go yet. “You knew my power wouldn’t work. That I wouldn’t be able to help you.”

Cal nodded. “Didn’t Aurelia explain to you that if you interfered magically, you could have been whipped, too?”

“Yes,” Nix said tightly.

“I remember war camp,”—He reached over and tilted her chin to face him—“and I would spare you that pain.”

Nix hoped he couldn’t see the rapid fire beat of her pulse from the vein on her neck. The closeness of him, the scent of his clean skin, and, more importantly, the fact he remembered her past humiliations and wanted to spare her, made her want to close the distance and kiss him.

She noticed Cal’s hooded gaze fixed on her mouth. Heat suffused her cheeks. Was it suddenly warmer? Or was it her imagination? Either way, the situation was too hot for her to handle. She stood on jittery legs, swaying back into the wall.

Cal popped upright and steadied her, lust seemingly replaced by concern. “What did you do to me?”

“I fixed your boo-boos. Help me to the kitchen. There’s cold beer in the fridge.”

A short time later, they were lounging on the beach in sand chairs with a cooler of drinks and loads of salty snacks between them. Watching the surf while scrunching the sand beneath her toes almost made her forget earlier events. She had seen many facets of Cal’s life all in one day. The unfailingly good—Declan and his kind soul, helping Cal reveal lost memories from the night he lost his soul. And the unspeakably bad—Cal’s psychotic, scheming brothers whose names she didn’t even want to think. They had ruined enough of the day.

Nix heaved a huge sigh of relief, speaking her thoughts aloud. “Thank the Gods this day is almost over. Remind me not to bitch about my family.”

A small smile lifted the corner of Cal’s lips. “Yeah. My family puts the fun in dysfunctional.”

“No arguments there. Another beer?”

“Sure.” Two beers later and Cal had visibly relaxed.

Perfect time to ask the question she’d been holding back. “How did you do it? You know, fight the pain?” Nix shivered at the memory of her own whippings. She had cried and wailed, agony owning her like a bitch. Every single time. No matter how often she had tried to block the misery or master the pain, she could never do it.

Cal cleared his throat. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“That is a completely lame and uninformative answer.” Nix ripped open the bag of pretzels, then offered some to Cal. Her eyes roved over the glorious sight of his bare chest and sleek shoulders. When he leaned forward, his back was unmarred and golden, as if the whole incident had never happened.

He pulled out a handful of pretzels and twisted in his chair to face her. “Talus taught me. He was intensely focused on disciplining the body and mind.”

Sadness tugged at Nix. Cal wore the same melancholy expression whenever he mentioned his lost friend. “Can you teach me?”

He laughed. “Maybe. If someone as stubborn as me can learn it, I don’t see why you can’t.”

After crunching more pretzels, Nix summoned the courage to broach another, touchier topic. It bugged her that Ares liked to pick certain scabs. Twice he had brought up Cal’s affair with Princess Halcyon.

“So, do you want to talk about the whole Amazon princess thing?” Nix offered.

“About as much as you want to discuss Adonis.” Cal scowled. He looked up at Nix and his expression softened. “She was a mistake. I was in a bad place and I let her use me.”

Nix could relate to that. She still wasn’t sure what had possessed her to let Nate worm his way into her life. She had always despised him as an arrogant prick. “We all have our moments of madness.”

Cal tipped his beer to hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

The faint scent of raspberries tickled Nix’s nose. Cal was idly picking the label on his bottle, lost in thought. Raspberries were important to him. Again, no idea how she knew that. She just did.

“Cal, will you tell me about your mother?” The words slipped out. She had a sudden, burning need to know about the woman. Cal grunted noncommittally.

“Please. She was important to you.” And that nagging déjà vu was back.

“She was mortal and she died a long time ago.” Cal cleared his throat and took a long pull of beer.

“And you blame Ares?”

Cal’s face clouded for a moment. He nodded. “And myself.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“How do you know? You weren’t there.”

“I just do. You’re the most responsible person I’ve ever met.” Like a giant Boy Scout. And Nix’s gut told her she was right. Cal would move heaven and earth for the ones he loved.

“She was gang raped, and I wasn’t there to stop it,” he snarled, his voice tight and low. “Look, can we please get off this subject?”

The bottom fell out of Nix’s stomach. What a horrible way for a female to die. She reached over and touched the ends of Cal’s fingertips. “I’m sorry, Cal. I wasn’t trying to intrude.”

He twined his fingers around hers. Heat raced down her arm and pooled in her belly. The faint scent of wood smoke tickled her nose.

“Don’t be sorry. When this is over. . . I want to tell you more.”

The implied,
if he was still alive
, hung in the air. Cold, paralyzing fear danced across Nix’s skin. She refused to lose Cal. “We
are
going to figure this out.”

They had to.

Chapter 14

“You’re being awfully quiet. Want to talk about it?” Cal asked as they drove back to Mystic.

They had each downed a dozen beers, but human alcohol couldn’t get them drunk. Not even buzzed. Nix didn’t have a lot to say. The whole situatio sucked. They had a week left and no real leads.

Yeah, Ares had dropped them a bone about her uncle, but she had no clue as to what Epic event was about to take place. If they were in a paper bag right now, they probably couldn’t find their way out of it. Why the Fates had chosen her to help solve this mystery was beyond her. It was like they were playing a big, cosmic joke. Nix kept her doubts to herself.

She needed to man up and stop whining. She answered Cal. “No, there’s nothing to discuss.”

Nix snuck a glance at Cal’s face.
Why is this man so important to me?
Before the shit had hit the fan, she had only encountered him, mostly long distance, at Delian League functions. Prior to that, they had shared a brief time together at war camp. Cal was older and hung around Nick Adonis and Talus. Other than his cold determination and extreme good looks, she had no reason to feel the way she did.

Or did she? Devlin’s assertion about the dick in a jar made her wonder.

“Cal, were you on assignment back at the turn of the last century?”

The lean jaw clenched ever so slightly. “I was,” he conceded after a moment.

“Any chance you were involved with breaking up a white slavery ring?”

Cal was silent for so long, she thought he wouldn’t answer the question at all. Instead, he pulled off the road and parked in the back of a supermarket parking lot. He turned off the engine, unsnapped his seat belt, and faced her. “You know I can’t discuss mission specifics. What is really going on, Nix?” He reached over and traced his finger along the edge of her chin.

That old feeling of familiarity, like they had done this tango before, ghosted into the car.

“I want to know why I have this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I think about your lost soul. And I want to know why, whenever you touch me, my body feels safe.” A flood of emotions threatened to unhinge her, but what the hell, she was on a roll now, might as well lay all the cards out on the table. “Can you tell me why I wake up in tears, my heart ripped into a million pieces? I used to think it was because of my breakup with Nate.”

Cal frowned and inched closer, but remained silent.

“I don’t think Nate is the reason. Is he, Cal?”

Nix braced herself for another evasion, for placating words or even flat out lies.

“Don’t talk about Adonis.” Cal voice was tight, his lips pressed thin.

“Why? Does it bother you? You don’t even know me—”

Cal’s velvet soft lips captured hers, the heat of his mouth scorching her. As if on autopilot, her tongue dipped into his mouth, savoring the rich taste of him. The knot in her gut relaxed and her heart sang. Unbidden, tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as Cal tangled his fingers into her hair and drew her deeper, his lips and tongue making her whole body shiver.

She wanted him. Gods help her, she wanted something for herself. No more messing around.

Her hands groped under his T-shirt until her fingers were tracing the outline of his pecs, rubbing over his small tight nipples. Cal ran his hands up the back of her shirt, then down to cup her rear, his strong palms pulling her as close as he could with the gear shaft in the way. Tingles ran up and down her skin. Her whole body bloomed under his touch, as if she remembered the curves of his body, the weight of his hands, and the sensation of his mouth.

Oh, Gods, her heart ached. She clasped his face with her hands and broke the kiss. “Why, Cal, why do I feel this way? Like my heart is breaking?”

Her words were like ice water. Cal drew back, the emotional distance so palpable there was a cold void between them. A storm of emotions seemed to roll across his face in rapid succession before settling into the passive, emotionless countenance she was all too familiar with.

“I’m sorry, Nix. I overstepped my bounds.” Cal shifted back into his seat. The seatbelt clicked into place, and the engine revved to life.

No, this was not happening. What if Cal only kissed her because she was a Nymph? Maybe she was projecting a “come hither” vibe? Reality crashed over her. A relationship was out of the question.

No way. No how.

Who was she kidding? She was in trouble. Big trouble.

If it were possible, Cal would have kicked himself in the nuts. He should have kept his hands to himself. Tasting Nix again had brought him so close to the edge of his control. If they hadn’t been in a public parking lot, things could have gone further. Past the point of no return. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to make love to her without her knowing the truth. Not to mention, he couldn’t take the heartbreak if she rejected him.

He knew Nix. She valued honesty and wouldn’t appreciate the deception, even though he was following orders. Somehow that wouldn’t cut it. Damn Nereus and his stupid rules.

His mood headed further south when they walked into the shop. Zephyr stood at the receptionist desk laughing softly with Mary Swain, probably scheming to get into her pants. If anyone could break her ice queen exterior, it would be him.

“My, my, Son of Ares, who pissed in your cornflakes today?” Zephyr quipped.

Cal flipped Zephyr off, wishing he could pound the smug smile off Zephyr’s handsome face. He especially didn’t like the way Zephyr studied Nix, then him, like he knew what they had been doing in the car. Of course, he probably did. The Wind God could detect sexual heat from a mile away.

“Knock it off, Zeph,” Nix interrupted. “I’m not in the mood to deal with male bullshit right now.”

Zephyr held up his hands. “Understood. I came by to see if there have been any new developments.”

Cal parked his ass on the waiting area’s leather couch. A moment later he was joined by Devlin.

“You two aren’t going to make Nix mad, are you?” Devlin licked his lips. Tension thrummed off the guy.

“Not at the moment. Why are you so keyed up?” Zephyr raised a brow.

Cal added, “Dude, you need to relax.” The Satyr looked like he was ready to launch off the couch at a moment’s notice.

“Trust me on this, Cal. You do not want to make a Destroyer mad.” Devlin’s eyes darted over to Nix. She was speaking quietly to Zephyr. Once Devlin was sure Nix wasn’t listening, he lowered his voice and leaned closer. “If you saw what she kept in her fridge . . .”

When Devlin finished explaining the grisly discovery, Cal’s stomach dropped to his shoes. Now Nix’s questions about where he was in 1900 made a lot more sense. It was only a matter of time before Nix figured out her role in the whole Pannis affair. He had mixed feelings. On the one hand, maybe she would be amenable to hearing about their love affair. On the other, she just might want to add his balls to the jar for not telling her the truth.

Fucking Nereus. This was all his fault. If the old man hadn’t insisted on wiping away mission memories, her father could have spared Nix a lot of heartache. She probably would have never gotten mixed up with Nate, the douche bag. And, he and Nix . . . he liked to think they could have had a future together.

“Cal?” A nudge against the toe of his boot brought him out of his thoughts. Nix, hands on her hips, tapped his foot again. “Zephyr has no information on Uncle Memphis. At least not what he was up to in the last few years.”

Devlin chimed in, “Your uncle, he was one of my best customers. He loved to buy and sell merchandise. In fact, I saw him the day before he disappeared.”

Cal and Nix both zoomed in on the guy, who suddenly shrank back from Nix’s attention.

“Devlin, I could learn to like you,” Nix said. “Let’s take a trip to your shop, shall we?”

Even though Devlin’s shop was a short trip from Mystic Ink, Nix couldn’t get there fast enough. Time was pressing on her. Or the lack of it. All they knew for sure was a Destroyer had stolen Cal’s soul. Again, no idea if it was Nix herself. But she doubted it. If she had taken Cal’s soul, where was it?

And, somehow, her uncle fit into the picture. Not directly, but in some roundabout way, still yet to be determined. She prayed that Devlin kept good records. Given how neat he was, she’d be surprised if he didn’t.

Nix was a few feet ahead of Cal and Devlin when they reached the block before Fawn’s Pawn. The hairs on her arms stood up. A tendril of dark energy danced across her skin. Nix stopped dead in her tracks. “Gods damn it!”

“I feel it, too.” Cal’s fists clenched. Heat radiated outward from his palms, but no visible flame. Presumably because there were too many mortals out and about.

“I’m getting really sick of people breaking into my shop.” Devlin reached into the waistband of his pants and lifted his sweatshirt, revealing the butt end of a pistol.

“Whoa, Devlin,” Nix said.

“Hey, I protect what’s mine.” Devlin led them to the backside of the building. “We’ll go in through the warehouse entrance.” He unlocked the door and it swung open silently.

The space inside was cool and dark. The air, slightly musty from old books and antique furniture, was mixed with the odors of gun oil and Satyr musk. Devlin whispered, “Put your hand on my shoulder. If I turn on the lights, the intruder will know we’re here.”

When her hand landed on Devlin, she felt Cal give her elbow a squeeze. She still wasn’t ready to admit out loud that Devlin was not repulsive to her anymore. She needed to find time to ask Cal about Devlin’s Black Ops affiliation. Not that Cal would answer. That subject was probably top secret, too.

They marched forward through endless rows of high shelves, tall as oak trees. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she bit back her surprise. The warehouse must have been spelled because it was vastly larger than the actual dimensions of the building.

Items were lined up on the shelves like soldiers, each row organized and tidy. Underneath were neat labels, the writing too small to read in the dark, but many of the objects were easily recognized: various weapons, ranging from swords, muskets and even the latest assault rifles. Shelves upon shelves of vases, sculpture, furniture, and curios. Nix swore she saw a couple of Hands of Glory—good for granting wishes but with . . . unexpected side effects. The things should have been labeled
Careful What You Wish For
.

She wanted to break the silence and ask Devlin if there was any object he didn’t have in his inventory.

They stopped.

Devlin crouched down in front of a door. Magic pulsed off a symbol above the knob. When Devlin touched the rune lock and invoked the spell, the door dissolved, then reformed behind them once they were all in the next room. It was a small kitchenette, similar to the one in Mystic Ink. Except, Nix didn’t have a small bed tucked in the far corner. Gods, did Devlin actually live in this room?

Cal steered Nix away until they stopped at another door, presumably leading into the storefront.

Glass shattered. The intruder was obviously breaking into the display cases.

Devlin growled. Pistol in hand, he snicked off the safety. When Nix and Cal nodded, Devlin eased the door open. Again, no noise. It was probably WD-40’d within an inch of its life.

Devlin rushed out first, gun held out, eye level. Nix wondered how much of his bumbling was an act. He was Black Ops, so he obviously had killed before.

Nix chided herself.
Save the curiosity for another day
. Rushing into a potentially dangerous situation while distracted was a bad idea. Cal skimmed alongside the other wall, leaving Nix to choose a side. She followed Devlin, pulling water from wherever she could find it.

Another crash. Something big, something metal. It was an office desk. Papers were scattered everywhere, tossed by a hulking male figure so intent on searching, he didn’t notice their arrival. A glass paperweight flew by, jamming into the drywall next to Nix’s head.

Devlin snapped. He lunged onto the male’s bulky shoulders. “Get out of my stuff!”

The thief whirled around and smashed Devlin’s back into the wall.

“You again?” Nix swore when she saw the intruder’s face as he attempted to dislodge Devlin.

The Cyclops was back. Same biker disguise, same greasy bandana hiding his real eye. The monster hit Devlin again, knocking all the air out of the Satyr with a solid whoosh. The pistol clattered onto the floor. Devlin’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, but he remained tightly latched onto the Cyclops’ back like a barnacle.

“We should have killed you when we had the chance.” Nix dislodged the paperweight and whipped it into the beast’s forehead.

“Oww! You bitch!” He yowled in pain. The Cyclops cradled his head with his enormous hands, releasing Devlin. Devlin slumped onto the floor, winded.    

“How original! Can’t you think of a better insult?” Nix unleashed a torrent of water. The velocity and weight pinned the one-eyed wonder against the same wall he had used to squish Devlin. Nix vice-gripped him to the spot using the water’s weight.

“Please, Nix, don’t drown my shop,” Devlin wheezed as he crawled out of the way.

Cal came up behind Nix. “Allow me.” He channeled his heat into her water. Wisps of steam rose into the air as the water began to superheat. “You better start talking, pal, or I’ll boil you alive.”

The Cyclops wasn’t completely dumb. He sang like a canary. The only problem—it was the same tune as before. Give him the sacred seal or else.

“Where is Cal’s soul?” Nix didn’t even bother arguing that she had no idea what they wanted. “Who do you work for?”

“Fuck you. I’m not telling.” Even under the press of the water and heat of the flame, the Cyclops refused to talk.

Devlin stood up. “May I try?”

“Sure, why not?” Nix said. She wanted to add,
hurry up
. Holding the water in one position was taking its toll. Her arms quivered. She wouldn’t last much longer.

Devlin got in front of the Cyclops, his head blocking Nix’s view. For a long moment, Devlin spoke in low tones, his voice edgy and angry. Devlin inclined his chin over his shoulder in Nix’s direction.

Ten seconds later, the Cyclops started to shake. “I’ll talk. I’ll talk. I don’t know much, but please don’t put my man parts in a jar.”

Cal faced Nix. “Wow. Do you want to explain that one to me?”

A hot blush crept up Nix’s neck. “No!” She snapped the word out like a wet towel being whipped in a locker room. She was fairly certain Cal already knew the answer. The crinkles around his eyes were a dead giveaway.

For someone who didn’t know anything, the Cyclops—his name was Eddie it turned out—blabbed for forty-five minutes. Most of it was the same thing over and over. His mission was to locate and deliver the sacred seal. He wasn’t the only one looking. No surprise there. He didn’t know how many others there were.

“And you get all your instructions from this cell phone?” Cal palmed the slim device in his hands. “Devlin, can you extract any information off of this?”

Nix surveyed the disarray that was once Devlin’s desk. A laptop lay twisted and dead on the ground, the screen separated from the keyboard.
Good luck with that
.

“Yes. Once I straighten up this mess.” Devlin glared at Eddie and started picking up papers.

“You still haven’t said who you work for.” Nix knew at this point, the question was moot. They appeared to work in a cell structure, with only a specific contact. No one else knew who the other operatives were. That way, if they were caught and questioned, no information could end up in enemy hands. Not too different than Nereus cleansing the Destroyers after missions. Seems the monsters were following mortal terrorist group tactics. At least this bunch was.

“I don’t know.” Eddie sagged against the heavy iron links of an anchor chain. Devlin had dug it out of his warehouse. Nix wondered why someone would pawn that. But whatever. It was helping them out now.

“What
do
you know, you useless piece of shit?” Nix paced the room.

“I know that Nymphs are succulent. Especially the marrow of their bones.” The Cyclops cried out in pain. The iron links were glowing red-hot.