A Destiny Revealed (11 page)

He laughed.
'Not with the way you wear them.'

'I’ll see what I can do.'
She withdrew from his mind.

 Bron whirled around as someone powerful entered his room.
“Is it too much to ask that you knock, cub?”

Fynn cocked his head and smiled. “Knocking is overrated.”

“To what do I owe the honor?” Bron walked into the
kitchenette to fix coffee.

“I can always tell when you’ve had ‘the dream’.” Fynn
settled into a chair.

Bron let out a breath of air. “Call it what it is, a
nightmare.”

“I brought cards,” Fynn offered, pulling them from his back
pocket.  He and Bron had been playing this game for centuries. “If you’re
up to it I can kick you around in gin for a couple of hours, help you forget.”

Fynn always attempted to distract Bron after his nightmares.
It seemed to be Fynn’s way of taking care of the man that had taken care of him
for so long.

Bron stared at Fynn in appreciation. Ignoring the coffee
pot, he sat on the other side of the table. “You’re a good person. You always
were.” He motioned for Fynn to deal.

“That’s a lot of guilt you carry around, Bron. You
practically raised me. I think my mother would consider your debt paid.”

Bron concentrated on his cards. “It's not as easy as that.
The loss of my brother has yet to be atoned for. I was not where I should’ve
been.”

“Had you been there, you would’ve died also,
bàbá
. I
wouldn’t be the man I am today, had you died. Hell, I wouldn’t be here today,
had you died. You can’t take the blame for things outside of your control.”
Fynn argued the same point every morning Bron woke up after what he dubbed,
‘the dream’.

“My mistake cost me our leader’s trust. That’s no easy thing
to live with.”

Fynn snorted. “The Ijoye doesn’t trust anyone, his son
included. I wouldn’t worry overmuch about it.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,
bàbá
. Your brother wouldn’t want to see you
like this and you've honored your promise to my mother, it's time to let go of
the guilt.”

Bron could feel the sincerity of Fynn’s words and this
morning they struck a chord.

“Does the Ijoye know you call me father?”

Fynn’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “As far as I’m concerned
you are my father. The Ijoye and I have made our peace, stop trying to change
the subject.” Fynn played his cards and shook his head.

Bron stared at the card Fynn played, avoiding his eyes. “The
Ijoye blames me for your mother’s death. It’s hard to overcome guilt when I'm
constantly reminded of my part in our punishment.”

Fynn stopped and stared at him in shock. “He’s said this to
you?”

“If anyone knows the extent of my powers, cub, it's you.”
Bron put down his cards and gave up the pretense of concentrating on the game.

Fynn shook his head. “I’ve long given up trying to hide
anything from you. It can't be easy knowing the truth behind the words most
people use as cover.”

“Most people hide their feelings from themselves, so I don't
take offense.”

“It could be the Ijoye doesn't understand his feelings
towards you either.” Fynn offered.

“Maybe.”
Doubtful, but he'd never
tell Fynn that.

“The Ijoye’s a hard man to please. I know that more than
most. Let him deal with his own issues regarding my mother’s death, you can't
take on the guilt he feels for his part in it.”

Bron allowed Fynn’s concern to sooth him.

“You’ve had the dream more often these past couple of days,
do you think your task has anything to do with it?” Fynn asked quietly.

“She is Ajo. It was Ajo vampires who attacked our temple, so
yeah,
Dalia has a lot to do with the dream coming
back.”

“Dalia didn’t attack the temple. Don’t let the past ruin
your chances for happiness in the present.”

Bron laughed. “You dare throw my own words back in my face?”

“It was good advice. You should try and use it.” Fynn stood
to leave. “Any time you need your ass kicked in gin give me a call,
bàbá
.”

Bron smiled as Fynn teleported from the room.

***

DALIA OPENED THE DOOR at Bron’s insistent knock. She'd just
finish with her make-up. He stood at her doorstep looking impossibly handsome.
His eyes swept her body and she smiled at the heat. She’d found the dress she
wore in the back of her closet and was glad she chose it. It hugged her body
until it reached her waist flaring around her knees. Tiny straps held it up and
crisscrossed in the back. The low neckline of the dress stopped just short of
indecent. She’d straightened and brushed her hair until it shone. The dark
tresses trailed her shoulders and ended at the middle of her back. If the small
hiss from him was any indication, he noticed.

And he liked.

 Bron pushed the heavy mass aside and leaned over to
lay a kiss on her neck, he inhaled her scent. “Green is my favorite color,” he
whispered in her ear.

Dalia shivered as he kissed her neck again. His eyes were
intense, lust turning them a deep brown.

“You look gorgeous.” He told her.

“You clean up nicely, yourself.” She gave him the same once
over he’d given her. He was wearing a pair of black slacks and polo shirt. The
deep blue made his dark skin gleam. It hinted at the muscles she imagined would
be underneath. He’d gotten a haircut since she last saw him. His hair was
cropped short against his head.

“I made us reservations at the local Beach club for dinner.”
He escorted her through the yard.

“That’s fine.” She led him to her mother’s house, quickly
checking to see if she needed anything before they left. They walked in
companionable silence to the restaurant.

She watched him as they sat across the table from each
other. Something in his eyes belied his seemingly good mood.  She studied
him as they ordered their dinner.

“You’re staring.” His lips turned up in a small smile that
didn’t reach his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

 He cocked his head to the side and looked at her.

“I can tell something’s wrong, Bron.”

He sighed and took a sip of his wine. “It’s nothing to do
with you. I don’t want it to affect our night.”

She shrugged and said nothing.

 He sighed again in frustration, looking away.

“I felt your sadness earlier, and there are hints of it
still in your eyes.” The heat she saw in his eyes was there too, sending
shivers down her spine. She wanted to address the sadness first, though she
wasn’t sure why she pushed him for an answer. She shouldn’t care one way or the
other if he was sad but she did.

“That’s a conversation for later.” He kissed her fingertips
lightly.  “Tell me about yourself.”

“There's not much to tell.” She narrowed her eyes when he
laughed.

“You have a real problem with questions, huh?” His smile was
genuine.

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Okay, when did you become, Ajo?”

She stiffened, all playfulness gone.
“The
seventies.”

Bron raised his eyebrows waiting on the rest of the answer.

She sighed. “I was twenty seven. I went out with my
girlfriends one night, and let’s just say the night ended badly."
A serious understatement.
Her mind flashed back to that cold
basement and the restraints that dug into her wrist.

 “What happened?”

She was tortured by a psychopath.  “That is a
conversation for later.” She threw his words back at him.

He grimaced and raised his glass in a mock toast.

She forced a smile and relaxed.

“My brother passed away a while ago, centuries really,” he
said suddenly.

She gave him a blank look.

“The sadness you felt earlier,” he said in answer. “I dream
of it often, and it brings up a host of memories I would rather suppress.”

Dalia’s heart went out to him and she grabbed his hand. “I’m
sorry.” She didn’t know what she’d do when she lost her brother.

“We were twins. Someone attacked our temple and killed
everyone inside. My brother was guarding the first oracle at the time, and he
died protecting her.” He confided. “As a warrior, there is no greater honor
than that. For those left behind there is no consolation.”

She sensed that he felt some guilt over it. She thought
about how old he was and leaned across the table lowering her voice.

“What kind of warrior are you? If you're not like me, then
what are you?”

“We're shape shifters. My brothers and I possess the spirit
of lions within us. Our beasts give us the instincts and power that allow us to
hunt the Ajo.” He explained.

Dalia’s eyes lit with curiosity.
“A lion,
huh?"

Bron gave her a smile that allowed her to see the beast just
below the surface. Dalia shivered, but not in fear.

Bron responded to the imperceptible move by growling low in
his throat.

Dalia should be afraid of him, but lust didn’t allow room
for anything else. She licked her lips. His eyes darted to her mouth and he
slid his chair over to hers. His eyes glowed and for a moment she saw the
animal in him. Need swamped her body and she shifted in the chair aware of
moisture gathering between her legs. Bron’s nostril flared as though he scented
her arousal.

And didn’t that just make her hotter.

Her lips parted on a gasp as a low snarl from him heated her
body. The waiter placed their food on the table, shattering the connection.
Bron cursed, sliding his chair back across the table. The tension was still
high as they ate dinner. The heated looks they sent each other further heating
her.

“Do you change often?” Dalia asked, breaking the tension,
once they were done eating.

“No, I don’t actively hunt, so I only change when I get
restless, which I have to say happens a lot around you.” His eyes twinkled with
mischief.

Dalia laughed with him. “I want to see.”

“Maybe,” Bron said evasively. He paid their bill, escorting
her out of the restaurant, his hand on the small of her back.

“What would a bunch of shape shifters want with me?”

 Bron shook his finger at her. “None of that talk
tonight, remember? This is a date.”

They walked through the streets talking. An hour or so later
her body weakened.

“What’s wrong?” he stopped.

She thought she hid it better. “Nothing, I haven't fed
tonight, so I'm a little tired.” “Dalia,” he started carefully.  “While we
are together, will you allow me to provide for you?”

Dalia stared at him for a moment weighing his offer. 
She worried about allowing the intimacy.  Could she handle this man? The
heat in his eyes fired her blood, and pushed her doubts aside. There was no
harm in his offering, and she wanted him with a passion she’d never
experienced.  He stepped closer and his scent wrapped around her, the
pulse at his neck called to her.

Damn the consequences, she would take what she wanted.

Chapter 11

“I DIDN'T WANT TO DO THIS IN THE STREET,” she explained
minutes later as she let him into her room. That sounded lame even to her ears,
but if she needed to spell it out for him she would be very disappointed. 
She moved to her closet and removed her shoes.

“It would probably have been safer there,” he challenged,
his voice low.

She shrugged her shoulders.
“Do you want
safe?”

Bron’s body hardened in response, he stepped closer to her.
“I want you.” His voice was husky with need.

Dalia tossed her hair over her shoulder, and sauntered to
him, her hips swaying seductively. Bron watched her, his lids hooded. His chest
expanded with his deep breath, drawing her eyes. Tension radiated from his
body. His hands clenched and unclenched and she smiled as he battled his
arousal.

“Let me take care of you, Dalia.” He whispered in her ear
when she reached him.

Dalia shuddered as Bron pulled her into his body. She kissed
him on his clenched jaw and sighed, he really was too sexy for his own good.
She trailed light kisses down the column of his throat and lingered at the
crook of his neck.

Dalia inhaled his erotic scent, licking his pulse
tentatively. Bron arched, and she sucked on his neck, pulling his skin between
her teeth.

“Dalia, stop teasing.” His voice was a harsh rasp as he
ground his hips into hers.

She chuckled, still biting down on him. His erection flexed,
nudging her stomach. Her teeth broke skin and she closed her eyes in bliss.
Bron’s hands moved soothingly up and down her back, seducing Dalia by the
intimacy of the act. When she was done, she slowly licked across his neck.
Shaken, she pulled from him.

Bron stared down at her, neither of them wanted to break the
intimate silence. He leaned down and gave her a tender kiss, one she'd been
imagining all night while they were out. Magic thrummed between them and she
felt invisible strings tying her to this man. Her heart stuttered, slamming
against her ribs.

Dalia moaned, wrapping her arms around him, her body moving
against his in anticipation. Bron licked at the seam of her lips, demanding
entry. His hands traced her hips and he reached around to squeeze her. His grip
was tight, the small pain its own pleasure.

 He released her hips to trace his fingers down her
thighs. Her lips parted in a gasp as his hands found their way under her dress.
Bron took advantage of her open mouth to deepen their kiss, his tongue
plunging, branding her. His fingers trailed up her thighs, causing small sparks
to move through her blood.

'Tell me if this isn’t what you want, Dalia.'
Bron’s voice
whispered through her mind. He nibbled his way down the column of her throat.
He cupped her intimately.

 Dalia nearly swallowed her tongue at how good it felt.
She could only nod her assent.