Tenants and Tyrants (Book 5 of The Warden series) (5 page)

She did as she said she would. She brought back the water, shut down the remainder of the lights in the apartment, and checked the door locks. She put her pants back on and crawled into bed with him. She tossed around a bit, trying to decide how to position herself.

When she finally settled in on her side, he slipped his arm around her waist and under her pillow. He rested his head next to hers, and pressed his body as close to her as possible. “You’re still really warm.”

“I run pretty hot anyway. Don’t worry about it. Just sleep.”

“I’m not sleeping, you are,” she scolded, or at least tried to sound scolding. He could feel her heart thumping hard. She was nervous being this close to him.

“Hmm-mmm.” He kissed her gently on the neck. “I want you to stay. Will you stay with me tonight?”

He heard her take a deep breath and her heart started pounding harder, but she didn’t answer. He didn’t press for a promise, but he did thread his fingers with hers before he passed out from pure exhaustion.

7

The next morning he woke up alone in bed. He cringed thinking how pathetic it was to beg her to stay. If she had stayed he could have at least held onto the thought that she was still attracted to him, and he might be on the right track by forcing the issue a little more subtly. Since she had left, it was just another one of his attempts to beg for something she wasn’t offering.

He heard sizzling from the kitchen and he wrenched his head to see what was going on. Nevia was still there. She was in the kitchen making him breakfast or at least she was making breakfast. He may or may not have been officially invited.

He suddenly realized how hungry he was, and found the strength through sore muscles to get closer to the food. He was glad that the after effects of his reversal work didn’t leave him partially paralyzed, but then again it was just tissue on a leg. He might have only scratched the surface of his potential recovery time.

“Hey, I thought you never cooked,” he said resting against the entryway. She turned around with two eggs in her hand like she had been debating whether to crack them against each other or just throw them into the skillet and pick up the shells later.

“I rarely cook.” She cracked the egg on the side of the pan with sizzling bacon. Some of the egg dripped in the pan, and some out before she could drop the egg with broken yolk in with the bacon. “With good reason.”

He knew he should take over for her, since cooking breakfast happened to be his specialty. He was a big egg man: omelets, benedict, pouched. He also had a small love affair with bacon. The fact that she was even making the effort to cook for him, was ranking high on his hot scale. More than that though, he was just happy to have her in his apartment. Sex or no, he just wanted to be near her. He wondered if that would be enough for him. Not likely, but denial is a pretty happy place.

“I hope you like your eggs with bacon stuck to it?”

“That’s my favorite kind.” He smiled when she looked back at him. He detected a note of amusement, but she hid whatever smile she had from him. “Actually, my favorite kind is…” He was about to say something regarding being prepared by a hot woman, but he bit back his overbearing flirtation. “Eggs benedict,” he said simply. “I love the tangy, salty, creamy mix.”

“Have you ever had it with asparagus?” she asked not turning around.

“Yeah, asparagus was made for hollandaise,” he said.

She turned around. “This is probably going to suck.”

“I’m really hungry. I would eat a shoe right now.”

“Then this will taste like a really good shoe.” He chuckled. As his smile faded, he didn’t take his eyes off her. It was a bad move for someone trying to be subtle. “Listen, Daniel…we need to talk about last night.” He turned away from her. He couldn’t handle another rejection.

“Just forget it. I can’t do this anymore. I tried to be done with you last night, and you’re over here in an instant. I tried to be subtle, and not a horny ass, but bottom line is that I want you so bad, I can’t even think straight. I know how ironic it is that I’m having issues with this and you’re not, but whatever. Serves me right I guess.”

She looked embarrassed, but he didn’t realize that she was embarrassed for him. “Actually, I meant Heaton.”

“Oh,” he said feeling another crown of pathetic-ness being placed on his head. He was the reigning king of wretched unrequited lust. “What about him?”

“What did he say to you at the table? You looked mad and…hurt.”

“He said he’s thinking about getting a transfer.” Daniel clenched his fists wanting to punch something.”

“Just like that, why?”

“I didn’t get into specifics after that. I asked him why he was being such an ass since we saved Cori. He said you and I saved Cori.”

“So this is about me? He’s mad about having me here and instead of talking about it he’s having a baby tantrum.”

“Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Daniel, he’s my partner now too. You can’t just play the boys club card and shut me out.”

“Yeah, actually I can,” he said firmly pinning her with his eyes. “He’s my best friend and he’s known me for the four hardest years of my life. When you can claim the same, we’ll gossip, until then you don’t get to criticize him.”

He saw her shift under his gaze. He hadn’t managed to fluster her since they first met, but he was intrigued that he could still do it. She was a strong determined young woman, but she was still young; young enough to feel the discomfort of being scolded.

He stood up and pulled her to one side to move the pan off the burner behind her. The eggs were irrevocably hard, but he would eat them anyway. He pulled her chin up to face him, and traced her jawline. “Why did you stay last night?” He whispered.

Her eyes flickered over his. She was panicking. She didn’t have an answer prepared. She didn’t have any excuse to leave suddenly. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He wanted to kiss her, but he knew she would find the strength to object to that. He may have been losing this game, but he was starting to get the hang of the rules.

“Thanks for the eggs, Nevia.” He leaned down and kissed her neck instead of her cheek to remind her of last night. He found a fork and dug into the eggs and bacon straight from the pan. As he did, his cell phone rang. He followed the sound to the living room/bedroom and found it on the night stand. He saw the caller id and pressed to answer it. “Heaton, what’s up man? Another vamp?”

“Annette is here. She needs more blood,” Heaton said on the other line with a smile that Daniel could almost hear in his voice.

“Oh, happy freaking day.” Daniel chimed. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.” He hung up and ran into the kitchen tossing his half eaten pan in the sink. “Go home, pack your bags, and for the love of all things fuzzy, bring a coat that an animal died for and not a pillow.”

“Why?” Nevia asked watching him frantically searching for a duffel bag in his over-stuffed coat closet.

“We’re going back to the prison,” he said.“You’ll get to meet Danato this time.” He chimed as an afterthought.”

“Why are we going back?”

“Because Annette needs blood.” He bit his lip trying to contain what might have been a girlish squeal if he didn’t have testicles to prevent such things.

“Blood?”

“Dragon’s blood!”

8

Cori maneuvered out of Penelope’s way as her jaw snapped the air where she had been standing. It was the sixth time that week Belus had pit Cori against the dragon. Neither of them were happy about the overexertion.

The newly named, Penelope, was in a particularly foul mood that day. Her name was not official and according to Danato, never would be. He was adamant that like the prison, she should have no name. Names were written evidence and invitations to curiosity. For good reason, Danato did not want curiosity. Never the less, Cori got tired of referring to the beast as an article rather than a being.

In regards to the incessant training, Belus insisted that the last three months of torment were standard protocol for anyone taking his job, but she didn’t believe him. First off, no one had ever had his job before, so whatever he decided was standard was just his own expectations. Second of all, there was no way he wasn’t taking revenge on her for shooting him.

Justifiable or not, shooting ones friend and mentor had to come with consequences. Belus might deny his feelings about it, but she knew how dearly he had held onto his umbrage for her after she betrayed him during the elemental escape. He had to be harboring animosity toward her, especially since she had never technically apologized for it.

It would have been easy to beg for forgiveness from him, but he wouldn’t respect that any more than he would not receiving an apology. She was stuck, if she apologized, she was admitting that she had done something wrong, which she for once was certain she hadn’t. If she didn’t apologize she was left with inconsolable feelings of guilt. Without an apology, how would she know if he really forgave her or not.

Penelope’s temper hit a summit, and she wailed in Cori’s direction twitching her tail. Cori braced herself for an attack, but the cumbersome dragon wheeled around and went back to her airplane hangar cave. Cori ducked the tail as it whipped over her head during the change in direction. Penelope let out one final moan that Cori could only interpret as a cry, before she settled down to sleep.

Cori looked back at Belus and his two recruited man slaves. Duke, the Texan guard that always treated her as if she were a priceless porcelain doll that might shatter if he took the lord’s name in vain in front of her. And his best buddy, “Guard Man” Chuck as she had for some reason labeled him. He was generally posted in the time bubble level, and helped her out of the bubble at her designated time increments.

Duke and Chuck had been brought around several times in the last few weeks to help her with her hand-to-hand combat training. She had mistakenly mentioned that she was disappointed that Efrat had so easily kicked her ass the first time they encountered each other. Belus took that as an invitation to get her hand-to-hand combat skills up to par.

Cori pointed her sword at Penelope who had curled up in a ball like a cat and was staring out at them with pouting eyes. “Look at that, you broke her!” She scolded Belus. “She’s going to be mad me for weeks now. Poor Penelope.”

“Don’t call her that,” Belus said moving to the lever to close the hangar door. “She’ll be fine in a couple of days, but I would advise against trying to cuddle with her. She might snap your neck instead.”

“Way to go sensei,” she scolded again just to make sure he understood this was his fault and not hers. “Are we done then?” She balanced the hilt of her sword on the palm of her hand. She knew they weren’t, but there was always hope.

“No, Chuck and Duke haven’t had there go yet,” Belus said pointing to the men. They both stiffened up as if they forgot they were still on the clock.

“Which one first,” Cori said playfully directing them over with her index fingers.

“Both,” Belus said sternly.

“What? I’ve only just started to put up a descent fight with one…”

“No mats either.”

“Are you kidding me?” Cori looked at the hard surface of the glossy white floor that permeated the prison. They were hard concrete. Without cushioning she was going to bruise every muscle in her back and probably get a concussion. “Belus that’s not…”

He looked back at her with piqued interest. He was just begging for an excuse to make it worse for her. “Yes?” he asked further twisting the knife of temptation.

“I can’t beat them, you know that. Together they outweigh me by…hopefully a person and a half. They just have more leverage. It’s just not going to happen.” She had hoped that was the right way to approach this. Honest and humble to her abilities. It wasn’t.

The look that crossed Belus’s face was no less threatening than the look Penelope gave her right before she attacked. He stepped forward meeting her half way. “Then fight me.”

He was definitely serious, but she laughed anyway. She looked to Duke and Chuck behind him, but they weren’t laughing, Chuck was vigorously shaking his head. She let her laughter die, and cleared her throat as if it was just a tickle that caused her insolent outburst. When her eyes returned to Belus, she regretted laughing.

“Put your sword down, or keep it. Attack me,” he said flatly. “I am smaller than you. I do not outweigh you. If your skills are such that weight and height will save you, then we will finish for the day, and you can go home early.” He gave her the tiniest of smiles, but it wasn’t a friendly one.

He knew how much of her time he had been commandeering. Between her standard duties, her gardening project, and his training, the only time she had at the end of the night, was to eat and sleep. Some of which happened simultaneously. She was fortunate to live in a house with two abnormally strong men, who could take turns carrying her up to bed, when she fell asleep at the dinner table.

The permission to end the day early was almost worth whatever it would take to beat Belus. She knew it was underhanded to wonder if his shoulder wound was still raw enough for her to use it to her advantage, but she really wanted a break. “Okay, but I’ll keep the sword.”