Troll-y Yours (4 page)

Four

E
li frowned at the rosy glow that slowly spread over his sister’s beautiful face. While she never considered herself anything but butt-ugly, he knew otherwise. He constantly watched Ella turn male heads wherever she went, oblivious to the attention.

Tonight was no different, but for one exception. This time someone had caught
her
eye as well.
Damn you, Mother, for treating Ella this way.

Kempor Aleksander wasn’t a match he’d have picked for his sister, not with the soldier’s sterling reputation of love ‘em and leave ‘em. Built for battle and married to his royal duties, the old warhorse would never honor a commitment to a female.
Old…
being the operative word—this male must’ve seen at least two centuries worth of winters.

Eli wished he had the gift of reading auras. He’d read the Centaur’s intent in a flash.

Ella lifted the book bag strap to settle over her shoulder while she wore a dreamy smile.

He shook his head. The giant carrier made her ass look two axe handles wide.

A few participants of her idiotic speed-dating event stood huddled in small groups, while others exited the café to join evening foot traffic in the palace mall.

Too bad Ella’s sweet spot was about to be invaded by a thickheaded Minotaur who dogged her steps.

Eli tossed back the last of his drink. The glass clinked softly as he placed it on the bar. “Ella, make sure you go straight home.”

Last thing Eli wanted was his sister caught in any underworld crossfire because, the gods knew, the dirty came out at night to play.

Too many things had gone wrong in rebel operations over the past year. Failed missions, operatives killed—with the problems all pointing to chaos in the upper level. Violence and betrayal hid behind every boulder in the kingdom.

And his sister had no idea any of it existed.
I’d keep you from it if I could, Sis.
Other than his primary contact, no one, not even his family, knew what he did to protect the kingdom. It was safer for everyone this way.

Ella paused beside him. Her wistful expression disappeared, replaced by a hateful sneer. “And if I don’t, are you going to run home and tell on me like a good mama’s boy?”

A thousand retorts leapt forward. He clenched his jaw and let them dog pile behind gritted teeth. Too many years of getting the sharp end of the stick, Ella’s calloused hide wouldn’t listen. He’d have to follow her part-way home and make sure she arrived safely.

Gods…it pained him to know she blamed
him
for the way their parents fawned over him. Eli couldn’t blame her. Didn’t matter if he disliked it as much as her, nothing changed their lopsided minds. Despite the way she was treated, she’d done well for herself.

Sadness sank heavy in his chest knowing she did this to raise money and leave home. Shit, he wished he could let loose his secret.

His Minotaur companion refused to let up and continued to blow in Ella’s ear.

Eli’s irritation grew. “Phranq, do me a favor. Back off my sister.” 

The lines bracketing Ella’s mouth softened, and her eyes flashed with less fury. Even so, without a word she resumed her stride and headed for the door.

He slid off his stool and threw some money on the counter, then nodded at Spike.

The bull’s idea of backing off wasn’t in the same playbook as his. The Minotaur’s tongue remained in licking distance of her exposed neck.

The close proximity and disgusting lick position just pissed Eli off. He tried to disguise his annoyance in front of the others by shoving his hands down his front pockets.

As Phranq followed Ella, Eli followed Phranq. And the whole while, the Kempor’s eyes burned holes in the back of Eli’s head.

That’s right, buddy. Keep your eyes on me and not my sister.

No way in hell would Eli allow Phranq to get his hands on her. But as long as she worried he would, her mind wasn’t on the queen’s top man. Eli glanced over his shoulder. The same operate whose experienced eyes sized up the situation and deepened the scowl across his forehead.

Not waiting to find out if the Kempor’s etched lines were permanently engraved, Eli let the café door swing closed behind him.

Cool air flowed from the public opening at the cavern’s mouth, bringing with it a hint of rain. Embedded glow stones in the ceiling and walls did little for lighting a tunnel large enough to drive a semi-truck through.

Calling up his Troll eyesight, the dark interior brightened.

Ten Centaur lengths ahead, Ella held her head high and did her best to ignore the bothersome Phranq. She marched out of the palace with arms swinging in time to her step. Mom’s last year hand-me-down dress hung like baggy overalls on her and made a hideous statements about her nice figure.

It didn’t seem to turn Phranq off. In fact, his skinny tail lifted in the air, indicating his bovine interest.

Eli took that as his cue to speed up and intercede outside the cavern.

“Ever see the stars from the boulders at the waterfall?” Phranq moved to place a beefy arm around Ella’s shoulders.

“Not lately.” Ella sidestepped the hairy arm and the accompanying malodorous armpit.

“Then let’s go.” Phranq grabbed her hand and tugged to the right, opposite the direction from their parent’s home. The bull encountered no problem in dragging Eli’s unwilling sister over a rise in the topography.

“Come on, Phranq.” Eli caught up with them and laid his hand on the Minotaur’s shoulder, feeling the strength flex beneath. “We’ve got work to do.”

Ella jerked back her arm, but the action didn’t break Phranq’s shackling grip. “You idiot.” She yanked again. “You can’t see the stars tonight. It’s raining.”

Phranq gave a deep chuckle and shook his horned head. “Who said anything about stargazing?”

“You did.” Eli and Ella shouted at the same time.

The last thing Eli wanted was to piss off Phranq. He needed to keep a close eye on him, since the Minotaur was the only mythological he’d met who claimed close ties to the rebellion leaders. And he wanted to meet the heads in charge. It could be all crap talk, but no way to know until it played out. Then, he could judge whether the idiot Minotaur knew anything or not.

Eli wrapped his palm around Ella’s free wrist and gently pulled her toward him. “Save it for another time. Let’s walk her home and not be late.”

“Let go of me.” Ella dug her low, square heels into the dampened earth and pulled to retrieve her arms, little good it did her. “I’m not going anywhere with either of you goons.”

Drizzle fell at a steadier rate. Large drops tumbled from branches as a breeze shook the water loose. The book bag slid off her shoulder, taking a dress strap with it. Droplets stuck in her lashes and no amount of fluttering would blink them away.

Pulled in two directions like a trollish rag doll, Ella screamed her frustration.

*~*~*

“Hello, Sweet-thing. Need a little help?”

The sight of Ella stretched between two males, sent a confusing slash of alarm down Alek’s elongated spine.
I’m responsible for all Boronda dwellers, not just this cute Troll. That’s the reason why I’m here. Right?

When he made his quick exit from the café, he’d trusted his hunch correctly. Common sense told him Ella wasn’t the late-night partying type. 

“She’s fine,” the Minotaur said, and tugged her closer. “Bug off.”

“Ow, you’re hurting me. Let go.”

The male Troll lowered his voice. “Phranq. Keep your mind on track. Let’s go.”

On track for what?
Alek used the moment of distraction to move two hoofsteps closer.

The Troll dropped Ella’s wrist and turned to face him straight on…and that’s when the vague prickle of recognition knocked on his brain.

The manner in which the gnome kept a sharp watch around him, matched the behavior of a certain suspect Centaur patrols tailed the previous day. Height and description fit as well. If the Troll were one and the same, Alek would do well to gather intel.

Behind him, leaves crunched a two-beat step on the trail. The footfalls were light, but not trying to hide an arrival.

“Oh wow. Is this an after-hours party? ‘Cause I’m totally up for that.” Carryyn’s wide, flat-lipped smile flashed at the group.

The effect of her salacious grin seemed to crawl right up Alek’s neck.

Phranq didn’t seem to notice Ella, wrestling in his grip; his gaze had zeroed-in on the jiggling mounds below her neck.

“Ella, come here.” With a practiced eye, Alek measured the space and angled slope between them. Then, adjusted his stance should he need to cover the distance. The ambient weather conditions held steady—he hoped they’d stay that way.

“Oh, leave her alone. She’s got her own party going.” Carryyn shook her horns so the rings circled and clanged together.

It reminded Alek of some damned wind chimes. He hated wind chimes.

Carryyn reached for the crook of his arm. “Forget her. You and I can—”

“Piss-off, Centaur.” Phranq narrowed his gaze and switched his focus to the object of his irritation. “I think my little Troll is happy where she is.”

“I’m not happy anywhere with you. Let go, you bovine idiot.”

How easy it’d be to turn his hooves around, retrace the path to the barracks, and find a good game of pool. The dial of his watch glowed, telling him how little time remained before duty called. There was always the Shenandoah, a meat market bar where his buddies and easy females of all species hung out.

Didn’t matter, human or mythic. Women love men in uniform.

So why am I rescuing a cranky Troll?

Never in a hundred years would he understand what in
kolasi
compelled him to leave a perfectly good beer, in a perfectly good bar, to shadow bad guy rebels in order to save Ella from potential harm.

Potential
hell
is more like it.

From the moment he crashed into Ella, everything inside him said to “intervene” in big block letters. Sure, she hated his guts on sight, and made sure he knew it. But, had he not been able to rectify her problem and take care of the glitch in seating, she might be indebted to some other male—and that would never do.

So here he was.

Gamóto
. Dammit.

Alek took a step forward. “You heard the lady. Let her go, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”

His hand swept to his hip where his sword hung. However, because he was off duty, he’d left it hanging on the bedpost. No matter, the tactical vest he wore stored Chinese throwing stars, of which he ranked marksman in accuracy.

The quad of Minotaurs and Trolls faced off, each looking to fill their own agenda.

Next to Alek, stroking his arm, Carryyn made it clear she preferred him on her agenda.

Not freaking likely
.

Cold rain fell. It pelted in bullet-sized drops, stinging from the force and chilling to the bone. Alek shook his head, flinging water from his short hair. “This is insane,” he said. “Let Ella go.”

Not sure why he felt the need to protect the prickly Troll, and she sure as shit didn’t want him around, it became a matter of ethics. Centaur honor was at stake.

Phranq’s jaw firmed up. “What you don’t seem to understand, mule head, is not everybody follows orders they’re given. Especially from someone like you.”

This was worse than insane. It was dangerously crazy—Ella heading off into the night, and the mooncalf Minotaur facilitating the trip.

“You know this is wrong,” Alek retorted. Even his mare mother would see how wrong it was to allow Ella anywhere near those two males. This included Carryyn for that matter. Alek didn’t buy for a mythic minute the damn speed dates had anything to do with this late night rendezvous.

No. This disaster in the making had the stench of rebel sprayed all over it.

The tight smile Phranq threw his way made it clear: the quicker Aleksander shit or got off the pot, the better. Unfortunately, given the SNAFU, Alek could see the odds headed exactly where the bull wanted them to go.

Or not.

He glanced at Ella again.

This time, she was looking back, her wide green eyes fastened to his.

A bewildering tremor of something or another skittered through him, hitting places he was trained to ignore. Only, he couldn’t push the feeling aside. He was the professional here, the highest-ranking soldier on Her Majesty’s royal payroll. The guy they called when others didn’t get the job done.

Taking charge is what Aleksander did for a living—and he was damn good at it.

Five

I
f Ella hadn't been wet and getting muddier by the minute, she'd be as cold and hard as the glint in Aleksander Hedson's eye. She pulled her arms to free them, but Phranq and Eli insisted on fighting over her like two puppies with a prize.

From her unwanted vantage point, she watched Al's lips press thin.

Rain dripped off his nose and chin. He didn't look friendly at all. In fact, he looked downright menacing.

Ella didn't blame him. She wasn't feeling all warm and fuzzy with the situation, either. Shaking back drenched strands of hair that stuck to her cheeks, she licked water off her upper lip and let it warm on her tongue.

Al looked good soaking wet.

Damn good.

His lean fingers casually reached into one of the many pockets of his padded brown vest.

“Keep your hands where I can see ‘em,” the Minotaur warned as he dragged her closer, pulling her easily from Eli's desperate hold.

Phranq then tightened his bone-shattering grip that would leave bruises for days.

The bull’s reading came easily to Ella. Deceptive shades of brown packed his aura to overflowing. Spots of dark blue—suspicion—mottled through the churning sludge.

“Phranq, don't do this. It's not worth it,” Eli spoke low.

It's not worth it, or I'm not?
The pain in her forearm was nothing compared to the sting of Eli’s rejection as it knifed through her. Bottled up and exploding, Ella screamed her frustration. Without Eli’s hold on her right arm, she dropped the book bag on the muddy ground and used her free hand to pummel Phranq's gripping fingers.

Anger, hurt, aggravation—they all bubbled up, and she used the welcomed jolt of energy to fight back. Thank the gods for ugly sturdy shoes, because stilettos would have snapped in half with the kicks she delivered to the hairy shins beside her.

Phranq gave a quick jerk to her wrist.

Agony streaked up her arm and settled in her shoulder. Her feet slipped on the slick mud and she fell against him, gaining a nose full of his sour body odor.

The powerfully-built Minotaur used the unbalanced moment to spin her around to face Al. He shifted his hairy arm to lie heavy across Ella's throat, pinching her airway in the crook of his elbow.

Ella closed her eyes and gratefully inhaled sweet rain-washed air. She blinked them open and saw concern lining Eli's face.

“Ooh, hold me like that!” Carryyn danced her butt to shimmy in front of Al, tickling
only Pan knew what
with the end of her tail.

Aleksander locked eyes with Ella, his expression deadly. He didn’t break the hard stare as his hand gently pushed Carryyn off to the side.

Droplets streamed into Ella’s eyes as she tried to focus her gaze on him, and his form wavered in a watery blur.

“I’m ordering you to release Ella and step away from her. Unless you want to end up in the bottom grotto, I suggest you do it,” Al demanded.

“What the hell are you doing, Phranq? Let her go,” Eli exclaimed. “This isn’t helping the situation.”

The oppressive arm lowered from her neck to drag over her breasts. He purposely settled his grip under their weight and lifted to plump them high. Phranq’s breathing came shallow.

Ella didn’t know if that meant he was angry, turned-on, or indecisive, but she really didn’t care either way—and wasn’t about to wait and find out. She lifted her right elbow high enough to deliver a hard blow to the stinking Minotaur’s ribs. The moment he grunted and his arm fell away, she bolted straight for Al.

Al’s four hooves braced in the muddy terrain, rain sprinkling down, her would-be client and savior swept her behind his withers with one arm. Immediately, he backed away, keeping Eli and Phranq in his sights.

“Go home,” Eli shouted. “You should’ve never been out here in the first place.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” She sucked in a curse and walked backward with Al, keeping a grip on his tuft of mane. “This is all your fault. If you hadn’t shown up, none of this would’ve happened.”

“Leave it alone, Ella,” Al urged. “Let’s get out of here.”

Phranq allowed Eli to pull him further up the muddy trail, but spoke a parting shot, “This isn’t over, Centaur. I know your face now.”

“Hey, wait for me!” Carryyn bounded up the slope after the retreating figures, hooves slipping in the mud. At the top, she stood as a shadowy outline amongst the falling rain and turned back. “Sorry about our party tonight, Alek. Let’s try again next time.” She scrambled after Eli and his disagreeable friend.

When the night swallowed them up, Al reacted with lightning-quick reflexes. He grasped her upper arm, though not so tightly as to hurt, and bolted toward the Centaur mall.

“Wait! I left my bag.” All her paperwork and money from the night’s session was in there.

“Forget it.”

Once they rounded a giant sycamore tree, Ella hauled back and resisted going further. Why were all the males going prehistoric on her? “No. I can’t leave it. My life is in that bag.”

Future speed date sessions, signup sheets, and the zippered moneybag were irreplaceable. Those were the tools of her investment to a better life—a future that would
not
include Eli and her parents.

Resolve stiffened her back. “I won’t leave without it.”

Al slid to a stop, hooves splaying in the mud. He swung his stern expression toward her. “For the love of the gods, woman. You would risk your life for some paper and pens?”

Pissed-off from Eli’s unbrotherly-like treatment, Ella’s temper flared high. She stood her ground. Instead of answering Al’s question, she conveyed her determination with crossed arms and a focused glare.

“Fine.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Stay here, I’ll go back.”

“Don’t let anything spill out.” Ella appreciated his gallantry, but she didn’t trust he would get the job done. The items were too important, the stakes too high.

How could he understand? This Centaur was all too handsome. What did he know about hard work and making dreams come true? Ella sniffed, ignoring her irrational thoughts.

Al shot her a dark look and turned to lope up along the trail.

She heard his wide hooves squish through the muck as his steps took him further away. The rain continued to fall, and she could almost feel her dress start to shrink. Not to mention her hair was soaked and hanging in clumps.

What am I doing?
Damp, chilled, standing in the rain, waiting on some male she just met to bring back her most valued possessions. She didn’t know if Al could be trusted to return at all. She might be standing there all night, waiting for him while he grabbed her bag with the money and that’d be that.

C’est la vie.

Indecision twisted her resolve, and she scraped her soggy bangs back. A strong breeze kicked up and sent a shiver down her back. If she wanted something done right, she had to do it herself. Nobody cared about her future more than she did. Especially not an overly confident Centaur who had more than flirtation in mind.

“Dammit.” Cloud cover made the night darker, but the trail up the slope gleamed a thin line. When she’d taken no more than a few steps, sounds of splashing mud came to her, followed by a filthy Aleksander. “What the heck happened to you?”

Sludge covered one side of his lean equine body and a good portion of his face and hair. His crisp white shirt was ruined. The hand that held her book bag, however, remained clean. And except for the spot where the bag landed on the ground, her canvas bag was fairly unsoiled.

“I slipped.” He handed the bag over. “But I’m all right, thanks for asking,” he said tightly.

“Of course you’re okay. You’re walking and talking, aren’t you?”

One of her many flaws, as her mother loved to point out, was to become surly when made to feel guilty. She wished she could stop herself, to break the bad habit. But once it started, it really rolled.

“I thought Centaurs were more sure-footed than that. You wouldn’t find a Troll slopping in the mud, just because of a little rain.”

Ella opened the bag and checked the contents. From what she could see, everything appeared to be there. When she glanced up to thank him, a pair of dark chocolate eyes pierced her with an intense stare.

Immediately contrite, knowing she was the cause of his anger, she apologized. “Sorry.” Acting defensive was a natural reaction, she told herself.

Al shook his hand to flick off gooey mud, and his jaw clenched as he spoke.. “You’re not looking like a million bucks yourself, you know. The bottom of your dress is caked.”

“Crap.” The dress was old, but she’d hoped to get another year out of it. Not only was the jumper stained, but her mother would fly off the bad end of berserk.

‘Soon,’
she told herself. Very soon, she’d have enough money to buy or rent a place of her own. Then, incidents like this would no longer be a concern.

Bells of Tartarus.
Ella glanced at Al’s muddy flanks and wondered what she should do. There’s no way she could go home looking like the swamp thing.