Spartan Resistance (29 page)

His arms came around her and Mariana’s heart actually seemed to halt for a moment. All she could think was an inane single phrase, over and over.
I’m in his arms
. Before she could draw a breath, though, Brenden jumped. He didn’t need to time the jump with her. He simply jumped and took her with him.

The blackness and utter deadness lasted less than a second, then more heat and blazing sunshine poured upon her. This time, though, the air was thick with moisture. The humidity was intense and her skin began to prickle uncomfortably. “Oh!” she breathed, looking around the untidy alley. “Where are we?”

“New Orleans, two thousand and three.” Brenden strode toward a tiny alley between buildings. “Coming?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Where are we going?”

“One of the most famous landmarks in the city,” Brenden told her. “Café Du Monde.”

“I’ve never heard of it!” Mariana protested and hurried after him. “Tell me they have environment controls at least!”

* * * * *

Decatur Street, New Orleans, 2003 A.D.

Billy saw Brenden before he spotted the table Billy had secured at the back of the café. Billy had used the stash in the linen press to pay for a good table, one in the corner that would seat three of them. Then he had taken Brenden’s advice and ordered for himself Beignets. He wasn’t entirely sure what they were, but trusted Brenden when he said he would like them. The concoction that had arrived looked odd, but the first mouthful convinced him that the odd look was deceiving. He devoured the three pastries in a dozen big mouthfuls, abruptly hungry.

Then he asked the waitress to bring him coffee. He had never tasted coffee before, although he had been assaulted by the aroma for centuries as humans in every country grew addicted to the stuff. Ordering a cup of coffee had become a ten minute conversation with the waitress, because coffee came in a great variety of ways and Billy had no idea what he would like. He finally left it up to the waitress to bring a latte, something she assured him most people enjoyed.

The milky beverage was bland and he sipped it merely so he had an excuse to stay at the table and wait. Brenden had said he would be there at the top of the hour and it was already two minutes past.

That was when Billy spotted Brenden’s distinctive size and shape and his deep black hair, moving through the thick cluster of pedestrians on Decatur Street. Next to him was the woman Billy recognized from the media clips that had been playing when he had arrived back on Earth. She was shorter than he had expected, but everyone looked short next to Brenden.

Billy’s gaze moved back to Brenden. His body hummed as he remembered the delights of the last two days. Sex in the past, as a human, had been different, just as the gossip had implied. But the novelty of having every nerve ending on-line and feeling every touch and stroke at peak intensity had worn off in the first twenty minutes.

What had kept him in the bed was Brenden himself. The man was fascinating. It wasn’t just that he knew more about sex and pleasure than anyone Billy had ever coaxed into bed, although that had been a constant delight, as well. It was because Brenden had walked the earth longer than anyone Billy knew.

He had met very old vampires before and most of them were embittered, insular creatures that had nothing in common with humans, no interest left in life and were marking the passage of time with severe
ennui
. Brenden, who had outlived all of them, was full of life. He ate with gusto, fucked with passion and laughed. A lot.

That had astonished Billy and delighted him, too. “You’re not the upright security chief that tossed me across the courtyard in Rome,” he pointed out.

“Oh, I am that asshole,” Brenden told him, his fingers sliding over his spine, making Billy twitch where he laid on his stomach beside him. “I have to be. The agency has grown itself some very ugly enemies since we started it. Ryan and Nayara depend on me to keep the fences whole and solid. But the door’s closed here and it’s just us.” He smiled and flipped Billy over onto his back and straddled him. “I warn you, though, if you tell anyone I’ll have to kill you.”

Billy realized he was joking and laughed, then caught his breath as Brenden slid his lips slid down his stomach.

But it wasn’t just how much Brenden had changed in the privacy of a locked room that had fascinated Billy. It was the sheer length of his life that gave everything Brenden said unexpected depth. Billy was constantly reminded of the hardline discipline that every army he had ever served in had tried to instill in its soldiers. That rigorous, demanding discipline had been developed by the Spartans and Brenden was one of them. He had been bred to be the ultimate fighting machine. Modern armies sought to build the same type of soldiers, but usually fell far short. They weren’t ruthless enough to recruit seven year olds and immerse them in the life, train them and focus their entire attention upon serving.

Perhaps because of his own training, Billy was able to appreciate the qualities in Brenden. They emerged unexpectedly, like his indefatigable ability to drive himself onwards despite lack of sleep. Or the way Brenden had launched himself into action once Billy had agreed to talk to Mariana.

Brenden had lived up to his word and now he was leading the lady through the busy tables in the café, heading for where Billy was sitting. Billy gave him a small smile, then Brenden motioned Mariana closer.

She backed up a step when she saw Billy. “What the hell?” she said sharply.

Billy got to his feet. “I’m not Laszlo,” he told her quickly. “Well, I am, but it’s a time thing.”

Mariana really wasn’t tall. Her head came up to Billy’s shoulders. And she wasn’t young. Not human young, although in vampire years, she was still a baby. But her hair was a rich, deep brown and feel in big loose curls over her shoulders. Her waist looked tiny. Billy had trouble looking away. He wondered what it would be like to put his hands around it.

He made himself look at her face. Her eyes were narrowed, as if she had read his mind. “A time thing?” she repeated. Her voice had a pleasant quality about it that made it nice to listen to. Then the brows came together and she glanced at Brenden. “I don’t understand.”

“We’ll explain,” Brenden assured her. He pulled out a chair. “But I thought you should meet Billy, so that we can get around your lack of trust in me. If he’s here right in front of you, it’s hard to argue that I’m lying.”

Mariana’s jaw tightened. She didn’t like that. But she sat in the offered chair and looked at him, the brown eyes direct and candid. “Billy?”

“My middle name.”

“Of course. Yes.” She glanced around. “I would like some tea, please.”

Brenden caught the eye of the waitress and beckoned her over. “I need a sandwich or something, too.”

Mariana gave him another startled look. She wasn’t used to seeing Brenden as a human, Billy guessed. Then she crossed her legs, settled her hands in her lap and looked from Brenden to Billy. “So, explain this to me.”

Brenden raised his brow. Billy picked up the cue. “Brenden tells me you’ve done a bit of travelling, so that will make this easier to explain.” He dropped his voice, aware of the proximity of strangers—human strangers—at the closest tables. But it was noisy in the café. As long as he kept his voice down, they would be fine.

Mariana leaned closer and listened as he explained about arriving back on Earth only a day ago and finding Laszlo had commandeered his life and was passing as him, plus everything that had transpired up until Brenden jumped him back to New Orleans.

Mariana listened without interruptions, absorbing everything he said with a slight frown marring the smooth skin between her brows. Once he had finished she sat back and considered him and Brenden. “This is why you warned me about Laszlo, isn’t it? This is what you couldn’t tell me. But why tell me now? What has changed?”

It was a smart question. But she was smarter than that, for the frown deepened. “Unless,” she continued, “nothing has changed, but you’ve decided I’m in the best position to figure out what Laszlo wants. That’s why you brought me back here, out of my subjective time line. It gives you time to explain things and talk me into it.” The frown cleared. “Is that why I’m here?”

Billy looked at Brenden. “You’re running this,” he reminded him.

Brenden scrubbed at his hair. He looked uneasy, like a kid caught stealing cookies. “We didn’t think you dumping Laszlo would help any of us,” he said carefully.

It had been Billy’s idea but Brenden wasn’t passing the buck, despite Mariana not looking happy about it at all.

Mariana glanced from Brenden to Billy. “I see,” she said and he thought she probably did see right through Brenden at that moment. “You want me to spy on you?”

Billy gave her a small smile. “I’m a younger version of the Laszlo that is expecting to have dinner with you tonight, in your time. I don’t know what he’s doing any more than you do, now. But on at least one level, he’s conning you.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t like that, especially now I’ve met you.”

She considered him for a moment, the rich brown eyes thoughtful. “Why shouldn’t I simply go back there and ask him—
you
—what you want?”

Billy laid his hand on the table, to emphasize his point. “I wouldn’t be lying unless I had to. He’s from the future. If he reveals the truth, it might jeopardize the future. We’re pretty sure he’s a traveler, a member of the agency. He’ll understand exactly how critical it is that history isn’t changed.”

Mariana picked up her cup and sipped. She appeared to be thinking it through. Brenden had warned him that she wouldn’t be an easy sell. He had been right in that regard. But he had made it sound like a negative. Billy, on the other hand, was pleased that she didn’t immediately capitulate.

He remembered with a small jolt of surprised recognition that they were talking about
him
. He was the one that had taken Mariana out on some appalling adventure in Brazil and it was he who had spent the night with her after the media had just about clawed her to death because she was with
him
.

It didn’t matter that he didn’t remember doing it. He
would
do those things and he would do them with this contained and graceful woman.

He studied her with a renewed interest. How had he managed to talk her into a date? He had no illusions about his current state of notoriety—Karen had cured him of that. Most women found him attractive because of his money, his fame, or both. He could tell that Mariana wasn’t like that. So what had he done that could possibly overcome her resistance to going out with someone like him?

Brenden was watching him study her and Billy straightened up and yanked his attention back to the cold latte in front of him. Confusion blurred his thoughts. What was he doing speculating over Mariana with Brenden sitting right there?

Mariana put her cup down. “I don’t like the idea of fooling Laszlo the way you’re suggesting. I was going to walk away from him because
he
has a hidden agenda. If I spy on him like you’re asking me to, that makes me as bad as him. As bad as you two.”

Billy grinned. He couldn’t help it.

“This would all be simpler if you stopped sneaking around and spoke to each other like adults,” Mariana added. “Brenden, you’ve been doing security for too long. You think everyone is up to no good.”

Brenden’s jaw tightened. “If his motives were good, why didn’t he just land and say ‘I’m here!’ instead of moving in on you like he did? He’s clearly a trained traveler. He has to know that the agency is able to keep a lid on time paradoxes. That’s what we’re there for.”

“Then the reason he’s not saying anything has to be personal,” Mariana shot back. She got to her feet. “I’d like to go home now.”

Billy rose from the table. “You can’t say anything to Laszlo.”

Mariana glanced at him. “This whole thing is ridiculous.”

“But there is a real possibility that confronting Laszlo could throw up a time anomaly,” Brenden said. He hadn’t got to his feet like Billy and Mariana had. “It’s not a risk you can screw around with.”

Mariana’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “I will bear that in mind. Please, can we go? I’m too used to the weather in Rome. It’s very uncomfortable here.”

Billy wondered if it was only the weather that was creating her discomfort.

Brenden looked up at her. “What are you going to do?” he asked flatly.

“I’ll have to think about it and not with you two sitting here trying to talk me into doing it your way.” She was only a foot or so taller than Brenden when he was sitting and she looked down at him with a frank expression. “Is there anything else about this…situation that I should know about?”

“Nope.” Brenden got to his feet, shoving the chair back. Mariana moved out of the way with a sway of her hips, the hem of the skirt fluttering around her knees and stood waiting as Brenden dug in his pocket for money to cover their bill, which he tossed onto the table.

Billy squashed the impulse to hold out his elbow to escort her out of the café. It was a holdover from older times…but why had it suddenly struck him now?

Mariana gave him a small smile as she followed Brenden out of the café and then Billy knew.

Mariana was unlike any woman he had ever met. She had an old-fashioned grace about her that brought out ingrained instincts, including a powerful desire to protect her from whatever came her way. Only, the enemy in her life right now was him. How could he protect her against himself?

He wasn’t sure she would let him, anyway.

* * * * *

Brenden’s size let him cut through crowds like a ship through the sea. Mariana deliberately walked behind him, letting him carve the way ahead. They moved through the thick tourist crush on Bourbon Street with ease and climbed upstairs to the studios above the bar.

Mariana already knew about the studios. They were an expense that Ryan ran through his private accounts, which she had been maintaining for a year or more now. But this was her first time back in old New Orleans. It had surprised her that Brenden seemed to be as comfortable using the studios as he needed to, as freely as Ryan did.