Warrior Enchanted: The Sons of the Zodiac (5 page)

Satisfied he’d regained some semblance of control, Drake turned and set the bottle on the ledge of the half wall. He’d talk to Emerson later—he had to. These reactions weren’t like him and he wasn’t content any longer to take the scraps she offered like he was a hungry dog.

He had feelings for her and he had things he wanted to say.

Resolved, Drake reached for his bottle, determined
to leave her to her private moments. As his gaze caught on her beautiful form once more, a slight movement in his peripheral caught his attention.

Cloaked in shadow, a large man skulked along the fence that edged Emerson’s backyard. As Drake focused on him fully, the asshole took hold of the top of the fence and pulled himself up to climb over.

Without conscious thought, Drake threw himself into a port. Before he could even hear the bottle in his hand shatter on the concrete of the roof, he’d closed the distance between the Warriors’ roof and Emerson’s backyard. On a loud battle cry, Drake slammed himself into the large form that dropped into the grass, his only intent to reach Emerson.

Emerson’s eyes popped open on the loud shout that echoed toward her from the far side of the backyard. On a scream of her own, she dropped her arms from where she’d had them lifted toward the sky. Two large figures skirmished at the edge of the yard, their grunts evident even from where she stood.

With a muttered oath Emerson moved forward, her fingers already itching with the need to spew fire.

And nearly forgot the sacred circle she stood in.

“Damn it.” With a quick, efficient movements, Emerson dissolved the circle she’d created at the start of her ritual and took off for the grunting, heaving mass that knocked against the fence. She caught sight of Drake’s large form, the reassuring size of him sending a shot of warmth through her belly.

What was he doing here?

And what the hell—?

She screamed again and leaped toward both of them as Drake rolled his opponent onto his back.

“Drake! No!”

More grunts assailed her and she knew she was risking a hit by a stray elbow, but she waded in anyway. “Drake! Get off of him.”

When her voice still didn’t register, she did the only thing she knew how.

Extending her hands, she let the waiting heat flow out of her fingers as a stream of fire rimmed the struggling duo in a circle of flame.

“What the—?” Drake looked up, but the movement cost him. A heavy fist slammed into his jaw.

Before he could retaliate, Emerson pulled back the fire and let out another scream. “Magnus!”

The haze of battle filled Drake’s green eyes and it was only as she ran toward him and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders that some of the Warrior dissolved from those orbs. The iron set of his shoulders relaxed slightly under her hands as his breathing slowed.

“Drake. It’s okay.”

“What the hell is this, Em?” Magnus’s loud voice echoed over her shoulder, carried on the night air.

Drake’s arms tensed immediately and his hands gripped her waist to move her out of the way. “You know him?”

“Magnus!” Emerson hollered over her shoulder. “Shut the fuck up for a minute and go stand over there.”

“Em—”

“Over. There,” she shot back through gritted teeth, unwilling to break eye contact with Drake. “Drake?”

His hands still spanned her hips and Emerson was increasingly aware of her naked body pressed against his. That familiar magic—as old as time and more powerful than any other force on earth—settled low in her stomach as wet heat pooled between her thighs.

She
so
could not do this right now.

Drake broke his gaze from her to watch Magnus along the length of the yard. “Who the fuck is that?”

“My brother.”

D
rake dragged his T-shirt off and handed it to her so she could cover up. The sight of his bare chest shot a bolt of warmth through her, which she ruthlessly tamped down.

How was it possible, Emerson marveled, she could still melt at the sight of his bare skin? Even worse—how was it the sensation grew more intense the more time she spent with him?

This…
thing
between them should have burned out by now. She should have gotten him out of her system.

Of course, if she was really worried about what she
should
be doing, she wouldn’t even be in this position because she wouldn’t be heading next door for midnight sex with her hot neighbor on a regular basis.

A loud cough echoed across the backyard, interrupting her conflicted thoughts. At the realization she was still naked, she dragged Drake’s T-shirt on.

Oh God, it’s still warm.

“So tell me, does your brother always skulk around
the back of the house?” Drake bit out the words with military precision.

“Not that I’m aware of. But seeing as how I haven’t seen him in four years, what do I know?”

The flippant words came easier than they should have, but damn Magnus. She’d had a long time to get used to not having him around. Four years in which she and her grandmother had worried and waited and lapped up the small scraps he’d offered in the occasional call or postcard from wherever he was at the moment.

“That’s a long time to be away.”

Drake’s warm, steady gaze held hers, and in the depths of his eyes she saw understanding. That steady quiet that told her he saw—and understood—far more than he outwardly let on.

“Come on.” She linked her hand with his and pulled him toward the small patio at the back of her house. “Let’s go find out what he did with his key.”

Magnus sat sprawled on a lawn chair, his posture casual for someone who’d been away for so long.

What had he been doing? And where? With whom?

It wasn’t the first time she’d questioned his absence. Realistically, she knew he was a grown man who could make his own decisions, but his complete abandonment had felt unduly harsh.

“He doesn’t look like someone who hasn’t been home in four years.”

Emerson turned to stare at Drake, his words so oddly similar to her thoughts it was eerie. And then the urge to defend her brother rushed her—as it always did—and she resolutely pushed aside her doubts.
“This is the house we grew up in. I’d imagine it would always feel like home no matter how long I was away.”

“Still. Makes you wonder what he could have been up to.”

“Why are you being so judgy?” Emerson hissed at him, her voice low so Magnus wouldn’t overhear their conversation.

“Until we get some answers, I’m not changing my initial opinion.”

“Which is what?”

“He’s hiding something.”

Emerson let out a small grunt of surprise and a muttered “look who’s talking” before they moved close enough to be overheard.

“Magnus.”

The smug smile dropped from Magnus’s face as he stood, shifting from foot to foot. “Who’s that?”

“Drake. Our neighbor.”

“He was awfully close for a neighbor.”

“And you’ve been gone too long to have an opinion on the matter.”

Score.

Her words managed to bank the fire in his menacing stance and his next words had a distinctly petulant overtone. “Doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”

Emerson leaned up and wrapped her arms around her brother, pulling him close. “Shut up and give me a hug.”

The last bit of fight evaporated as he pulled her close, his large frame overpowering her petite one. He’d grown in the last four years, she realized as her hands ran over the muscles along his upper back. He’d
always been a large man, but the body under her fingers was hard. Unyielding.

Pulling back, she didn’t miss the fact that Magnus’s gaze was firmly pinned on Drake. Unwilling to answer questions even she didn’t have the answers to, she punched him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“What are you doing coming in through the back?”

Magnus turned his full attention to her. “I thought we still had a key back there.”

“This is New York. What do you think?”

Confusion filled his dark eyes. “But we did have a key. Mom spelled one years ago so only we could find it.”

Their mother’s special skill—planting power in inanimate objects—had never carried through to her children. What seemed so simple, Emerson knew, wasn’t in actuality and it was something she’d never been able to master.

“Mom’s been gone a long time, Magnus.”

“Yeah.”

As confusion morphed to somber awareness, Emerson saw his years of absence hadn’t managed to fill the well of grief he carried.

An hour later, Drake nursed a club soda as he tossed back a handful of beer nuts. Equinox was rocking tonight; he could hear it even through the heavy walls of Grey’s office. He still hadn’t shaken off those last few moments at Emerson’s and was depending on Grey’s mission to do something for his shitty mood.

“Hey, sunshine. You ready to roll?” Speak of the devil. Their Aries walked back into his office dressed head to toe in Armani. The sleek look did nothing to
hide the lethal set of his shoulders; nor did it soften the look of battle in his eyes.

“Been ready.” The ice clinked in Drake’s glass as he took a final sip. “You’re the one who’s been upstairs making time with your patrons.”

“Securing a few last bits of information.”

“I saw the pair of legs you were talking with when I came in, but if you want to call it information, be my guest.”

“You up for this?” Grey cocked an eyebrow as he pulled a gun from a safe behind his desk. “You look distracted.”

“Hell yeah, I’m ready.” Drake slammed his glass down on the coffee table harder than he’d intended and stood. “Believe me when I say there is nothing I’m more ready for than to kick the shit out of something. And if the fucker deserves it, as I’ve no doubt he does, that’s even better.”

One dark eyebrow cocked over eyes the same color as his name, but other than that, Grey held his opinions, as usual. “Then let’s go.”

Their Aries got him up to speed as they took a car toward the docks. Two of the city’s crime families had escalated into an all-out war and Themis had asked Grey to intervene in a likely shoot-out.

“Interesting conflict Themis has asked you to get in the middle of. I know she loves humans, but she’s pretty diligent about avoiding their politics. Especially the ones with their own set of rules.”

“She’s had me involved in this for a while. It seems one of the families recently procured a new weapon and has used it to tip the balance of power.”

“What is it?”

“Eris’s Golden Apple.”

“No fucking way.” Drake let the news sink in and realized he wasn’t actually surprised. The goddess of discord had several weapons at her disposal, the apple being her oldest and most well known. Her gift as an immortal was the ability to create discord and chaos out of nothing. The apple was a physical manifestation of that same ability.

“It figures, though,” Drake added. “We’ve known she hasn’t simply been cooling her heels since buddying back up with her sister last year. It looks like Aidan and Quinn’s run-in with her a few months ago was just a prelude. Clearly, she’s been up to far more than we realized, including meddling in mob affairs.”

Grey shrugged. “Her MO’s staying behind the scenes. It’s what she does best.”

“But why organized crime? Even she can’t be delusional enough to want to get involved with that human mess.”

“Yeah, but see it from her perspective. What better way to create discord than get the city’s major criminal forces all worked up? You get them going, you distract attention from the big show.”

“You think this is part of something bigger?”

“I have no doubt it is.”

Drake turned over the implications of Grey’s words. While Enyo usually went for flashy and theatrical—her role as the goddess of war ensuring she loved to make a scene—her sister, Eris, was far more subtle. And a damn bit more effective when she put her mind to it.

If Grey’s suspicions were correct, and Eris was
creating discord with the city’s major crime families to draw attention from something bigger, what would it be?

And why now?

“So this is what you’ve been so secretive about? What changed your mind tonight that you brought me in?”

Grey reached for a bottled water, but Drake couldn’t help wonder if it was a move to keep his eyes averted. “I’ve kept my own counsel on this, nothing more.”

“Answer my question. Why bring me in now?”

Grey’s wry smile had just the slightest hint of cockiness. “Even I know when I need help. Besides, this is going down at the docks. There’s no better ally than you, Fish.”

“Fuck, not another nickname.”

“You’ve got others?”

Drake pointed at Grey even as he reached for his own bottle of water. “Nice way to shift the scrutiny. Don’t think I’ve missed that there’s something else going on here. And why does my Spidey sense tell me it has to do with Legs?”

On a muttered oath, Grey ran a hand through his hair. “She’s an ADA. Her name’s Finley McCrae and her information has been invaluable on this one.”

“That all?”

“Damn it, yes. She’s human, Drake. And in a position with access to power.”

“For the record, you’re human, too.”

Grey’s lips thinned into a fine line. “Doesn’t change the way we live.”

Drake opted to ignore the philosophy and shifted toward their potential for casualties. “Do you think she has any sense of what’s really going on?”

“No way.”

The answer was too quick for comfort. “You sure of that?”

“Damn it, Fish. She doesn’t know. She can’t know.”

“She’s highly trained to seek the truth. That’s an awfully powerful motivator.”

The fine cut of Grey’s suit couldn’t hide the stiff set of his shoulders. “I’ve been careful with what I’ve asked. She thinks I’m nosing around for some property expansion at the pier.”

Drake shook his head, unable to suppress the sense of discomfort that rode his back. “Your dick’s making decisions, Grey. Whatever little box you’ve neatly put her into, I suggest you pull her out and give her more credit.”

Their ram turned to look out his window at the buildings passing them on the West Side Highway. “I’m using her for information. That’s all.”