The Seven: Four tales of passion, danger and love (34 page)

Ed was digging through the new equipment, tossing out gloves for her to try when he entered the room. The woman was leaning back against the desk, her long legs stretched out in front of her, pulling on a glove.

"This will do," she was saying. Abruptly, her head whipped around and those green cat eyes locked on him with the force of a laser beam.

"Hey." Rock stopped and leaned against the doorway. As small as the office was, this put him within two feet of her, close enough to see the gold flecks that danced in the sea of green of her eyes.

"Hey." She looked him straight in the eyes.

He liked her eyes and what he saw in them. Just as he liked the sound of her voice. Low, a bit husky and with a slight accent that he'd guess pegged her roots as somewhere in the south.

Ed straightened, grunting as he did, with one hand going to the small of his back. "Jazz, this is Rock, my b - my head trainer. Rock, Jazz Boudreaux, your new assistant trainer."

Rock felt like giving a rebel yell of joy at the news, but instead smiled and stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Jazz."

She rewarded him with a smile sultry enough to set his jock on fire, and tapped her gloved hand against his. "Same here, Rock."

"So, you have much experience in the fight game?"

"More of the school of life kind of experience."

"Know anything about ultimate fighting?"

"To be honest, only what I've seen on television. But I'm a fast learner."

"And good qualifications," Ed added. "Black belt in..."

"Tae Kwon Do and Kempo." She filled in the information for him. "I've studied Tai Chi, Judo and Kung Fu, and trained with an ex-golden gloves for a while."

Rock was impressed. "Nice. Still, we'll need to make sure you're training according to our specs."

"Right," Ed cut in before she had a chance to respond. "Rock'll be working with you until you're ready to go solo."

Jazz forced herself to respond to the wizened old fighter sitting at the desk, out of respect and also to get her mind off the waves of heat coming off Rock. "Sounds good. When do we start?"

"Ed?" A male voice called out at that moment. "Hey! Where is everyone?"

"Here," Rock yelled back over his shoulder then looked at Jazz. "Danny Bookman. Wants to be an ultimate fighter. Hasn't fought professionally, but thinks he's the bad ass to end all bad asses thanks to a few titles in local martial arts competitions."

"He have what it takes?"

Rock straightened with a wink. "That's what we're going to find out. Grab your gear. I'd like to put you in the ring with him to get an idea of your style and to see how he fares against a woman."

She chuckled and snatched up her mouthpiece and other glove. "He one of those guys that can't hit a woman, or one that wants to?"

"We're about to find out." Rock turned to leave.

Jazz looked at Ed. "Thanks, Ed. I'll pay you for these out of my first check, if that's okay."

"Don't worry about it." He waved her words away.

"Kinda have to. Independence, you understand. Need to pull my own weight."

"Fine." He grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Now get out there and show that smart ass what a good decision I made hiring you."

"You got it." She gave him a sassy wink before following Rock.

Her eyes lit with appreciation, watching him stride across the gym to the muscular man waiting at the mat. What she would give for a few days of fun and games with him. Somehow she got the feeling he was a man who would not fail to please. And it had been quite a while since she'd been even mildly pleased in the sex department. Most men were not strong enough for her. Not able to satisfy her cravings.

What her granny called her "bloodhound" sense kicked in again, stronger this time, refocusing her mind on why she was there. She was definitely going to have to scout the area as soon as her work shift was over. The dweeb had to be close.

"You ready?" Rock asked over his shoulder as she approached.

"Born that way," she replied and acknowledged the other man. "I'm Jazz."

"Danny," the man replied and turned his attention to Rock. "You expect me to fight her?"

"Yep."

"Come on, Rock. A chick? No offense, Jazz, but I don't make a habit of beating up women."

Jazz grinned as she made the transition into fight mode. "What makes you think you can, Danny?"

Rock laughed as Danny rolled his eyes. "Okay, you two. Places."

Jazz took her place on the mat, bending over to hug her legs for a good stretch then straightening and dancing in place for a moment. When Rock said "Go," she was ready, but made no move.

Danny danced around her, throwing a few half-hearted jabs she easily deflected. He had little skill in hiding his intent, telegraphing every move he intended to make. She let him jab and kick at will and played defense, fending off his attack but not going on the offense.

"Come on, Jazz," Rock encouraged after a few minutes. "Let's see what you've got."

She cut him a grin and the next kick Danny threw, she countered. He issued a spinning back kick and she spun toward him, inside the kick, catching him with a back-fist that sent his head snapping back. One more spin and she was past him, coming around with low leg sweep that caught him in the back of his supporting leg, sweeping it from under him and sending him into a fall.

"Fuck!" Danny cursed as he bounded up and faced her.

"Not if you fuck the way you fight," she teased, bringing a flush of anger to his face at the taunt.

He came after her, clearly no longer caring that she was female. Jazz grinned, letting her warrior take command. Fighting was instinctive to her. She focused on her opponent's eyes and acted in accordance with their intent, taking the openings in his defenses to counter attack.

Danny was no match for her. She knew that and suspected he did as well. But male pride would not let him admit defeat to a woman. She realized he had slipped out of training mode and was fighting in earnest.

She cut a look at Rock, seeing the glitter in his eyes, the hard set of his jaw. He wasn't going to stop it. Which meant she had no choice. She had to take Danny down. She slipped into full offense mode, pressing him back on the mat, delivering a series of kicks and punches to open a bigger hole in his defense.

The moment came. She launched herself into the air with a spinning side-kick. Her foot found its mark, connecting solidly mid-chest and sending him flailing backwards. She pressed in with a series of punches to the face, getting in close and forcing him back more.

The finale came in the form of a leg sweep that had him landing hard on his ass. One downward strike was all it took. Her fist stopped short of his exposed neck. He stared up at her in anger for a moment and then let his hands fall limp to his sides. The fight was over.

Jazz offered him her hand. He glared at her for a moment then accepted and she straightened, pulling him to his feet. He peeled off one glove and spat out his mouthpiece.

"This doesn't mean shit!" he barked at her then turned his wrath on Rock. "Not shit! You put me on the mat with a fucking chick and expect me to give it my all? You fucking know I'd have to throw it to keep from hurting her."

"That's a load of crap," Rock replied calmly. "She beat you. Man up, Danny. Just means you aren't ready yet. In time maybe. Not now. Better up you to five days a week."

"I ain't fighting her no more," Danny announced.

"You'll fight who I say or find another gym."

"Fuck you." Danny bounded off to snatch up his bag and rush out of the gym.

"Damn!" Jazz blew out her breath. "Sorry. Didn't mean to cost you a client."

"Not the kind I want to train anyway. You move well."

"Thanks."

"There are a couple of areas you could strengthen your defense."

She arched a brow at him. "Yeah?"

"Yep."

"Show me."

"You got enough in you for another bout?"

"That was just a warm up," she said sassily.

Rock's sexy smile had her hormones spinning. "Later. Right now I have a couple of files I want you to go over. Some gals who joined recently. Not looking to compete, just want to learn some self-defense."

"Sure," she agreed, stepping off the mat so that she was just inches from him. "But later..."

"Don't worry, Jazz. I'll deliver." His words promised much more than a satisfying sparring match. The look in his eyes backed up his words.

"I'll look forward to it," she returned in a low voice that carried its own promise.

At that moment there was nothing Rock wanted more than to pull her to him and taste those full lips. Feel that strong lithe body pressed up against his. She was a turn-on unlike any other. Watching her fight, he'd been hard pressed to keep his mind on the technique and not on imagining the two of them on the mat, the physical battle leading to him taking her down. Then taking her.

It would be primitive and passionate and no holds barred. His gut told him that. The only question on his mind was how soon.

She smiled knowingly at him, as if reading his thoughts. He gave her a wink and turned away. "Come on, let me get you those files."

Jazz grinned behind his back, watching his fine ass as he led the way. Rock looked over her shoulder and caught her. "After you." He swept his hand in front of him.

She laughed and walked around him but cut a look back at him before they reached the office. "Turnabout's fair play," he said, not in the least embarrassed at having been caught watching the sway of her firm ass.

"Hmmm, I like play," she offered and sashayed into the office.

Rock could have groaned at the images her words inspired. Adjusting his burgeoning erection in his pants, he followed. Suddenly life had taken an interesting turn. One he was determined to explore in depth. Very soon.

Chapter Three

I remember when Augustus became obsessed with the writer Layla Storm. Nothing I or any of his friends could say was going to stop him from having her. At the time I thought he was crazy. She was just a woman and Augustus had enjoyed more than his share of women in his lifetime. Why risk damaging the peace treaty with humans?

I didn't understand. Today I am starting to. Of all the things I could spend my time thinking about that would be of benefit to this world and that world currently closed to my kind, my head is filled with thoughts of Jazz Boudreaux.

I have patents that net millions a year, plans for a dozen more and projects that could change this planet for the better, rid humans of their dependence upon fossil fuels and help restore what has been damaged. And then there's the plan to establish a stable connection with the other realm - one that can be monitored.

Yeah, I've got plenty to think about and yet it's not my big head that's in control right now. And that's all because of Jazz.

Rock glanced at the screen of his phone and pushed back from the bank of monitors as he answered.

"Augustus. What's up?"

"Severin connected with Nevaeh."

This was news of interest. Ever since Nevaeh and her family crossed over into the other realm with the Archangel, Gabriel, the Seven had received only sporadic information.

Before they made the crossing, Severin established a mind link with Nevaeh, who was part Daemon. With the help of her father and grandfather, both Daemons, the link was amplified, allowing Severin and Nevaeh to communicate intermittently.

"How are things going over there?"

A brief pause preceded Augustus' reply. "According to Severin, Nevaeh isn't thrilled with the latest turn of events. Gabriel ascended to the throne, despite his protests. His ascension has been a rally point for those of the Light and the ranks of warriors grows daily."

"Why should that make her unhappy?"

"It is what is to come that concerns her. The more support Gabriel gains, the more attempts there are on him from the Dark Side. They lost two Angels and three Fae of late, and she fears the worst is yet to come."

"War. Gabriel hates the word as much as the act. How is he holding up?"

"Admirably. As you might imagine, everyone loves him. What might come as a surprise is the remarkable strategist he is. It's a talent he's kept well hidden from us."

"Like I said, he hates war. Anything else?"

"Yes. We have a leak. Asha has been in communication with someone. We found what is referred to in the vernacular as a burner phone but cannot trace the number we found on it. I've asked that it be delivered to you in hope that you might determine who she is speaking with."

"You might want to take a closer look at who's guarding her."

"Quite so. The person responsible for providing her with the phone is now in detention. I would like security heightened, however. Suggestions?"

"Yeah. Call the Colorado station and ask for Angelo. He has all the latest updates on security protocols. Get him over there to upgrade with the X3-9m. Better yet, I'll call him."

"Thank you. And now something closer to home - at least for you. Severin's people in Florida have detected an unusual energy. Have you noticed anything strange of late?"

Rock's mind went immediately to Jazz, but then dismissed the thought. His growing obsession with her was a bit strange, but he chalked that up to wanting and not having.

"No."

"Well keep your eyes and ears open."

"Will do. So, you and Layla going to stay in Europe?"

"For a few more weeks and then we will return to Texas."

"Okay, tell her hello for me."

"I will. Be safe, my friend."

"And you."

Rock ended the call and swiveled his chair to stare out of the window. After centuries of hiding, his people had dared to make their presence known. Years of negotiations and they'd made substantial strides toward forming a lasting peace with humans.

Asha Iltani, the Queen of the Vampires had destroyed all they'd worked for in an hour. Well, that was not correct. She'd obviously spent a good deal of time planning, but the result was the same. The Seven were right back where they'd started. They could chose to hide who and what they were, or conquer humanity.

Thank the stars Augustus ruled the Council. Rock had no desire to conquer anything.

Well, aside from what was uppermost on his mind at present, namely his case of the hots for Jazz Boudreaux.

*****

Fred Mindleton stood behind the leather chair at his desk, staring out at the city through the wall of glass. Below lay his empire. Thanks to Asha Iltani, it was a city that had been his for nearly thirty years. A city he governed from behind the scenes, his money paving the way for progress while simultaneously affording him control and power.

He was accustomed to calling the shots. Used to having people jump through hoops to please him. People did not say no to him. And yet, RC Burns had been saying no for the last six months, despite the lavish offers that had been made to him.

Fred was tired of the word no. It was time to raise the stakes. If money would not prompt Burns to do his bidding then he'd find another incentive. He turned and punched a button on his phone.

"Get Barnette. I have a job for him."

He didn't wait for a response to his command. It would be carried out. He took a seat and turned his attention to the report displayed on his laptop. One of his many companies, FM Analytic, was showing phenomenal earnings, thanks to the success of the nanoscale polymer membranes Burns had developed. Using these membranes to increase the efficiency of cooling and heating systems had proved to be a highly lucrative design.

Burns had developed a polymer membrane configured exclusively for such applications by selectively engineering the size of the pores in the membrane to prevent air from passing, and at the same time allowing moisture to pass through.

He'd leased the patent to FM Analytic for ten years. Mindleton wanted more. He wanted the patent for himself. Every year his company paid Burns millions on the lease. Millions that could be going into his coffers. Mindleton was not a man who liked to share.

Particularly since he'd discovered that a competitor in LA had used another of Burns' patents to develop a consumer product that showed exemplary earning potential. The product Burns developed utilized LED technology to generate light.

LED's or Light Emitting Diodes had been around for years, but with the variant Burns had developed, the white LED operated on the process of electroluminescence, allowing optimum light to be generated on a minimal amount of energy.

In time, Mindleton had no doubt, this process would generate billions of dollars. Billions that would not be his because Burns would not lease the patent to him, but had gone with his competition, effectively cheating Mindleton of the revenues.

This could not be allowed to continue. Burns might have stepped out of the arena, so to speak, but Mindleton had reason to believe he was continuing his work in private. He had to lasso Burns, gain control of any future inventions and patents. Not just for the sake of potential revenue but also for the power those patents would afford him.

Left unchecked, Burns might single-handedly alter the energy demands of the world, moving man away from dependence on fossil fuels. Mindleton and others like him could not let that happen. He would profit on patents such as the heating/cooling process and even the white LED. Nevertheless, he had to draw the line on alternative energy. He had too much at stake to do otherwise.

Asha Iltani wanted Burns put in check. That fact triggered Mindleton's radar like a submarine cruising beneath the surface of his battleship. If she wanted Burns then more was at play here than alternative energy. She didn't play in the minor leagues. No indeed, Asha Iltani played with the big boys, boys far bigger than Mindleton. He wanted to get into some of that action, in a big way.

Which meant getting Burns under his thumb. And fast.

*****

Rock pushed away from the computer, crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the equations on the screen. Why was he still finding it so difficult to concentrate?

Visions of Jazz floated through his mind, prompting a heavy sigh and a raging hard-on. If he didn't have her soon, his balls were going explode.

Not that he couldn't have found other avenues of relief. He had no doubt that he could leave now and be back home within a couple of hours with a willing partner. But his taste for other women had evaporated the day he set eyes on Jazz.

As intimidating a thought as it was, she was exactly what he'd dreamed of. Strong, sassy, smart and sexy as hell with a body that would get a rise out of a dead man. And she clearly wasn't shy about letting him know that she was willing. She'd sent him looks hot enough to melt the soles of his shoes.

But fate seemed damned determined to get in his way. Each time he saw an opening to suggest some quality one-on-one time, something happened to spoil it. It was quickly getting to the point that he was going to say the hell with timing, sling her over his shoulder and nail her in the locker room.

Or not. Even as he had the thought he dismissed it. No, he wanted to be able to take his time with Jazz, sample all of her delights.

And this kind of thinking was not helping his current condition. He had to have a clear head to work on his latest project and jacking off had long ago lost its appeal. Which meant the only alternative was to either shift and run, or get in a long, exhausting workout.

He opted for the gym. It was closed, so he'd have the place to himself. Pushing up from his chair, he grabbed his keys and headed out.

*****

Jazz pulled into the rear parking lot of the gym, but didn't get out of the car. She was frustrated and didn't handle that well. It had been three weeks and in that time she'd searched every day for the dweeb. Her tracking senses told her he was close, but so far, she was no closer to finding him than when she'd arrived. Every time she went out on the hunt, she ended up here, at the gym.

That told her it had to be one of two things. Either her lust for Rock was clouding her mind, throwing her radar off kilter, or the clue to the dweeb's location was somewhere inside the gym.

She'd figured the lust aspect would be easy to resolve. Get Rock in bed and ease the wanting, thus restoring her ability. Only it hadn't worked out that way. There was enough chemistry between them to ignite a nuclear explosion, but so far every time one of them started to make a move, something got in the way.

They hadn't even been able to get on the mat together. The first afternoon they planned to spar, things went haywire. One of the women clients tried to sneak a smoke in the locker room, forgot her smoke as she chatted on her cell phone and set the towel bin on fire. That set off the alarm and the sprinkler system, not to mention alerting the fire department.

In the end, the gym had closed for nearly a week, in which time she sat around and stewed over what to do, and scouted fruitlessly.

The next opportunity for a match arose two days after the reopening of the gym. She and Rock had just squared off when a blonde weighed down in gold and diamonds burst in, screaming at Rock for causing her to lose her husband. She ranted and raved for half an hour, screaming about loss of money and cars and, oh my god, the Palm Springs house.

It wasn't hard to figure out that the woman had enjoyed a fling with Rock, gotten caught somehow and lost her sugar daddy. Jazz didn't see any indication of heartbreak over the man, but real anguish over the loss of income and material things.

After that the gym got busy, one training session on top of another. She and Rock were both slammed and the schedule always worked out to have one or the other of them having night sessions that precluded any personal involvement.

Unrequited desire was starting to make both of them testy. Before she left earlier this evening, she'd asked about the next day's schedule and he'd barked at her about checking it for herself if she wanted to know.

She'd understood the tension. No way she had failed to notice the hard-on he'd get when he watched her stretch, or she got close enough to tease him with a sexy quip. She knew he wanted her. Whether his desire was as strong as her own was still uncertain but at this point she didn't think it possible because she was about ready to jump him in public.

But right now she had a job to do, and it was one she didn't particularly relish. She normally didn't have a problem with breaking and entering to get a job done. She did what it took to achieve results. But this was different. She was breaking into a place owned by people she'd come to think of as friends.

Even cranky old Ed had grown on her. She saw through his gruff exterior to the big heart he tried to hide. He even bought her lunch a couple of times and had opened up about his past and told her about his days as a fighter, as well as the time he spent working as a guard at a state prison.

She'd come to love the old guy, and the idea of breaking into his place and snooping around was giving her a guilty conscience, something she wasn't accustomed to.