Courting Mortality (Brothers of Fate Book 1)

Courting Mortality

 

Brothers of Fate #1

 

Allyson Lindt

 

This book is a work of fiction.

 

While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

Copyright © 2015 by Allyson Lindt

All Rights Reserved

 

 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

 

Manufactured in the United States of America

Acelette Press

Blurb

When it comes to the destinies, fates, and curses that come with being a demi-god, Eli got screwed over. He’s spent eternity thwarting the same family curse that granted his brother, Loki, ever-lasting fame. As long as Eli doesn’t fall in love, no one gets hurt. His plan to stay single and detached has worked for several millennia.

And then he meets Marley. She's making him abandon all his resolutions, except the one that never lets him forget the curse. Falling for her means her death, and he won’t let that happen

 

 

 

For my eternal dragon

 

 

Chapter One

As you are, for all of time

To taste neither love nor death

When you find the one worth more than life

She’ll draw her last mortal breath

 

Eli dropped his phone back into its cradle, and rubbed his face in exhaustion. He could call the shipping company all day long, and still get nowhere. It wouldn’t matter how many people he reamed for the critical-but-delayed, package. He’d still wouldn’t get it today.

His brother’s voice drifted in from the outer office, and he growled. Loki was the last thing Eli needed. Especially Loki’s jokes, with sexual harassment written all over them. Sometimes Eli wondered how that man actually owned his own company.

“And she says ‘…isn’t
choking hazard
the warning label they put on tiny objects?’” Loki’s laughter floated through the office.

The laugh that joined in—pleasant but sarcastic—made Eli pinch the bridge of his nose. It was the best way he’d found to suppress any other reaction. For instance, the way his imagination careened out of control and his cock sprung to life when he heard Marley’s voice.

“I bet that ruined your plans for the night.” She must be back at her desk.

“Not really. I have other talents.” The confidence in Loki’s voice never wavered.

Eli stood and made his way into the main office. He needed to talk to her anyway. Kicking Loki out of the office was just an added benefit.

The bad jokes and innuendo continued as Eli crossed the short distance to Marley’s desk. With the four-foot high cubicles, it was easy to see what most of the people in the room were up to. Or at least, if they had their attention on their computers. Most of his people had their heads down, headsets on, to take support calls. Marley didn’t work the help desk, though. She fixed the issues that couldn’t be resolved with a simple phone call.

For instance, it looked like her current task was to keep Loki busy. Or maybe it was the other way around. Marley leaned back with her hands on the arms of the chair. The posture accentuated the way her T-shirt hugged her breasts. She shook her head, attention still focused on the man standing next to her.

Loki looked up. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk when he saw Eli. His gaze shifted back to Marley in an instant, and he leaned on the cubicle wall, closing the distance between her and himself.

Her full lips twisted in disbelief. Her voice didn’t carry as far, but the subtle sarcasm was enough to reach Eli’s ears. “Lucky her. I guess that’s why they say, ‘Those who can, do. Those who can’t, make up euphemisms about why size doesn’t matter.’”

Eli should tell her to get back to work. Over the centuries, he’d watched his brother destroy countless lives, both literally and figuratively. Loki had never hesitated to kill, maim, or render someone psychologically crippled, if it suited his purposes.

Eli definitely saw the appeal in Marley. With full breasts, round hips, and a narrow waist, she haunted plenty of his fantasies. The way her plump lips pursed when she was annoyed and curved when she smiled short-circuited his thoughts. Her sense of humor and intelligence, though—the sharp wit and ability to think through anything—were what drew her to him the most. And made her far too independent, compared to the women his brother usually preferred.

Eli had gotten used to a lot of things in his long life. That people actually knew who Loki was, where very few even realized he had brothers. That Eli had needed to shorten his name—Byleist—to something easier for modern tongues to wrap their brains around.

But Loki’s repeated attempts to hit on Marley still set Eli on edge. Eli didn’t seen himself getting over that any time soon.

Loki didn’t flinch at her slight. “You’re good. I almost bought that. Have dinner with me.”

Marley’s, “Seriously. Again?” echoed Eli’s thoughts perfectly.

Loki moved around the cubicle wall, and his leg brushed hers when he sat on the edge of her desk. “The odds are, the more times I ask, the better my chances you’ll say yes.”

Eli had stepped in on Marley’s behalf the first dozen or so times this had happened, but she’d asked him to stop, and said she could handle it herself. Even now, he had to force himself not to say
something.

He’d tried to tell himself it wasn’t jealousy. He knew it was, though. Even if he couldn’t have Marley, everything about her called to him, and most of the time, it took all of his restraint not to step in on her behalf when some unworthy dickhole hit on her.

“Game theory doesn’t work that way.” She sat up, and moved her chair back a few inches. “The odds are the same, every time you roll the dice. Besides, no-chance-in-hell multiplied by not-in-this-lifetime-or-the-next will always equal zero.”

Eli couldn’t completely hide his smirk, and had no desire to hold back his pointed reminder. “Don’t you ever work?”

Loki winked at him, before turning back to Marley. “I’ll be back another day.”

There were lots of things Eli was grateful for, and at the top of the list was that his brother owned his own antique store, instead of working for the family business.

Some days Eli questioned why a family of gods—his family—did something as banal as running an insurance underwriting firm. Logically, he got it. Over the centuries, as their followers had dwindled and life had become more structured, Eli and his family had to do something to stay busy. The demand for miracles, and the destruction of entire sects of opposing tribes, had really sloped off. Since Eli’s father, and really most of his family, were gifted with the ability to control the elements, they knew more about acts of God than almost anyone, so they’d just gravitated toward insurance.

Marley spun in her chair the moment Loki was gone. She tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. “I don’t suppose you’re in such a splendid mood because my cable came in?”

Her teasing pulled him back into the conversation, and reminded him of why he was actually at her desk. “About that.”

Her brows knit together, and she studied him for a minute. “Good thing I don’t have a hot date tonight.”

He agreed, though his reasons didn’t have anything to do with work. He beat back the emotional response to her retort. Even if she wasn’t vehemently opposed to getting involved with people from work, hell, even if he wasn’t her boss, his fate wouldn’t let him do more than relegate her to daydreams. “The hubs came in. The cable and connectors weren’t with them. Tomorrow morning.”

Her shoulders slumped. “We’ve got less than a week before the move.”

He knew. Everyone knew. The countdown reminders went out every morning via email. Their branch of the company was moving into a new building over the Christmas break, which meant all the network wiring had to be in place before a single workstation was set up. As IT director, it was his job to make sure it got done, and he knew Marley could handle the work fine on her own. Or, she would’ve been able to, if she’d had the time they’d been promised months ago. No one could wire the entire place by themselves in just a few days. Sure, he could summon lightning, fly, and even heal people and sometimes bring them back from the brink of death. However, even as a god, he didn’t have the kind of power it would take to pull off a miracle like wiring and testing an entire building in a single day. He couldn’t make the cables appear out of thin air. He didn’t have the power to materialize them into the places they needed to be.

“I’ll help.” He knew she wouldn’t let him do the work. It would be a blow to her pride. He wasn’t sticking her on the job alone, though. Not this late in the game. “We’ll probably have to pull an all-weekend shift, but I promise I’ll comp you for it.”

She shook her head, but a smile had crept in, erasing some of the frown-creases in her forehead. “I guess I’ll have to make sure I’m not out too late tonight.”

“I hope not.” He couldn’t keep some of his relief from leaking into his voice. He should want her to find a nice guy and settle down. At least her life wasn’t at risk, with someone else. Not the way it was with him. That fact still didn’t console him. Fortunately, they had work to do, and it was a nice distraction. “Planning meeting, my office?”

She didn’t protest, and moments later she was perched on one of the chairs while he thought aloud, and made notes on the white board. “Supposedly, the missing bits will be in by eight tomorrow.” Since they’d been scheduled to arrive today, and nobody had been able to explain to his satisfaction why the shipment was delayed, he’d demand blood if he didn’t have the waylaid packages first thing in the morning. “So I figured we could start at ten.”

“We want to get it done this weekend, right? Why wouldn’t we start at eight? Or seven, with prep. We’re already looking at living there all weekend. Might as well pick up those spare hours at the end of Sunday,” Marley said.

He hated the idea of making her give up her weekend for work, but didn’t mind spending some uninterrupted time enjoying her company. “Seven it is. I’ll bring the coffee.”

“You do know how to treat a girl.” She leaned on the desk, arms crossed, enhancing the seductive curve of her breasts.

She had no idea. He’d jump at the chance to show her exactly how he wanted to treat her.

 

*

 

Marley watched Eli sketch a rough outline of the new building floor plan. When he’d come out of his office, he’d looked like a spring ready to snap from the tension. He was slowly relaxing. His arms were loosening up, and his movement becoming more fluid, which was nice. With short, platinum hair, striking blue eyes, and a slender form that looked as if it could wind its way through anything, she always enjoyed watching him work. He was even more attractive, when he was in his zone. The way he sank into the explanation, and passion drove his every movement.

When she’d started the job, she’d felt guilty about staring. After all, mixing business with pleasure had cost her last job—hell, almost her entire career, and it hadn’t even been
her
pleasure. When she’d interviewed with Eli a couple of years ago, she’d been broke, frustrated, and at her breaking point. Her former boss made sure she didn’t get any good references, so she’d started telling potential employers they couldn’t contact her last manager. That had just made things worse.

When Eli had asked why someone with her qualifications was looking for work after so long, she’d told him the truth, unfiltered. Flat out. She’d been fired for refusing her manager’s advances, and if that was going to be a problem, they could cut the review short and not waste the next hour of their lives. He’d hired her on the spot.

Since then, she’d recognized the fact that there was no harm in appreciating how good he looked. About six inches taller than her meant he was the perfect height. His button down shirts didn’t hide his defined arms, and heaven knew she fantasized about him binding her arms back with his tie. Besides, they hung out on weekends a lot—as friends of course—and he was even sexier in a T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

On top of all that, he was smart. She didn’t have an issue with the occasional intensely graphic dream, as long as that was all it was. She’d do the same if he were a random stranger on the street.

“And no, I promise this isn’t the Death Star.” His casual joke dragged her back to the work-half of the conversation. With some guys, she’d think it was self-effacing. With him, she knew to step back, and look for the hidden humor instead.

“Are you sure?” The retort slid from her tongue with little thought. “Because I’m thinking, if we fired at that exhaust port there”—she nodded toward a random spot on the rough map—“we could blow up the whole ship. No more wiring to do. Problem solved.”

His deep rumble of a laugh sank into her skin, tempting her. “If we’re going that route,” he said, “we’ll just have the rebels take out the entire thing for us, and spend our weekend marathoning some real movies instead.”

“I’m in. Unless you have a hot date.” Sometimes she wondered why he didn’t date more. Why a guy like him was still single. For the most part, though, she took it for granted that he could frequently make room outside of work for the way their bouts of geekiness played so well off each other.

He shrugged and made random marks on the white board, instead of looking at her. “Last woman someone tried to set me up with had the ability to wipe out an entire city block with the wave of her hand, and no idea who Admiral Ackbar is.”

She laughed at the exaggeration of what he called a cursed love life, appreciative he’d built on the Death Star joke. “You poor thing. Don’t worry. Somewhere out there is a woman who gets your references. You’ll find her.”

He met her gaze for the briefest moment, before looking away. “I hope not.”

Super weird.
She shook off the questions his comment raised, and hopped to her feet. The joking was fun, but she had to get things back on track. As much because of time constraints, as because she needed a distraction from the part of her wishing they had plans together tonight, that might take them into tomorrow.

She grabbed the dry-erase marker from him. As her fingers brushed his, she tried not to linger on the warmth that raced between them. It didn’t matter how many times she joked about his only having the one marker, he’d never gotten more, which made her wonder if he appreciated the excuse to share as much as she did. His heat brushed her bare arm, as she sketched in a series of outlet spots. She nudged her rambling thoughts back, and stepped away again.

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