“I think that's a pretty clear statement,” Rune said dryly.
“But an incorrect one,” I shot back.
“You're staying here,” Brax said in his that's-final tone.
“I don't want to sit here waiting and wondering.”
“Too bad,” Merrick said.
They headed for the door.
I tried another angle. “So, you're going to leave me unprotected?”
“You're safe in the house,” Rune said.
“Do not leave,” Brax added.
“Don't even go into the backyard,” Merrick said. “The ward is around the house alone. Stay in the house.”
I made a frustrated sound, but I knew they were right. There was nothing I could add to the mission. I'd only be a liability. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” Rune kissed me, taking his time to put a little love into it.
As Rune stepped away, Braxen looked at me. I smiled and went into his arms. Brax nuzzled my neck with a happy sound before raising his lips to mine. We still hadn't finished what we'd started, I didn't even have a chance to tell him I loved him, but I think he knew. And I knew he loved me too.
Then there was Merrick. He cleared his throat and came up to me. I lifted a brow at him. He leaned down and pecked my cheek, as quick as a hen. Then he was gone.
Rune snorted a laugh as he watched Merrick flee. “That's still a huge improvement.”
“Oh, I know,” I said. Then I went serious, “Be careful.”
“We will.”
I followed them to the garage door, then stood in the doorway, watching them climb into their van. Inside was all the equipment they might need, including restraints for a possible captive. The garage door opened, and they backed out, then pulled away. As it shut again, I realized why I was so upset to be left behind. It wasn't that I was worried about them. It was revenge. I wanted some for Kaleo Chang. And I wanted to get it myself.
But as much as Braxen had insinuated that I was a warrior, I wasn't. I had never been trained to fight. I hadn't shot a gun in years. I didn't even know any defensive moves. Hermes had always seen to my safety. He was the one who insisted I learn how to shoot, but only in case of an emergency. And as I said, the last time I held a gun had been years ago. Like over twenty. I always trusted him to take care of me. When he left, I was frightened for a while, and I once pulled out the gun he had given me, but it turned out to be unnecessary. A false alarm. By the time Hermes had left me, the world was a safer place, especially for those with money. I did all right on my own.
“Is that why he left when he did?” I whispered as I closed the garage door. “Did he want to leave sooner, but was worried about me being on my own?
Well, didn't that just burn my butt? I didn't like feeling weak. I decided then that when the men returned, I'd ask them to teach me how to defend myself. Hand-to-hand combat, not just firearms.
I turned and faced the kitchen.What should I do while they're gone?
Yes, you know I snooped. Had to be done. This was going to be my home, and these men were going to be my lovers, so I felt entitled to look through their stuff. I wandered through the lower rooms, looking for anything of interest. Finally, I went upstairs. Each of the bedrooms was different. Braxen had a pretty minimal aesthetic, Merrick liked everything modern, and Rune had an old-world style but with a masculine twist. Like Goldilocks, I chose the in-between. Rune's room was my favorite.
But then I found another room I hadn't seen yet. Not a bedroom; there was no bed. Freestanding shelves, trunks, and cases filled the room. In them were every weapon imaginable, secured in heavy-duty cases. I found crates of ammunition, grenades, every sort of gun you could want, knives, swords, a fucking battleaxe, and even a rocket launcher. As I ran my hand over a selection of throwing stars, a strange feeling came over me.
I heard Braxen's voice in my head again:“Lomasi of the Tsimikiti, I know you are born of warriors. You are the last of your kind, more special than you know.”
Maybe I wasn't trained, but I wasn't a woman to stay behind either. It had been a while, but I could fire a gun. Just like riding a bike. No problem. My stare landed on the rocket launcher. It would probably put me on some kind of government watchlist, but I googled how to use it. Just in case. Honestly, it didn't look that hard. You really just needed to know how to load and hold the thing, then it was point and shoot. Oh, and evidently, they're called RPGs. I had no idea what that stood for and I didn't care. There was a warning about the kickback and backblast (two different things evidently), but I'd deal. If I had to use that thing, the kickback would be the least of my concerns.
I packed a duffel bag with guns, grenades, and ammunition. Then, feeling like a character in a video game, I strapped knives over my thighs. Good thing I had worn jeans that morning. The rocket launcher wasn't as big as you might think, but it still had to go in its own bag. Fitted out like Mad Max, I carted it all downstairs, making two trips. I had no idea what I was doing, but I was oddly calm. I grabbed Braxen's keys and went to the massive blue truck. A ram's head stared at me skeptically from the tailgate as I loaded my weapons into thebed. I glared at it. Before I could lose my nerve, I got in the driver's seat.
I had already typed in my destination on my phone, so I was ready to go. I hit the button to raise the garage door, pulled out, and drove off. Once I hit the main road, the automated voice started telling me where to turn. It all felt very normal. Yup, just driving through Seattle with a truck full of weapons. Enough to arm a band of mercenaries.
“You have arrived at your destination,” my phone said.
I parked across the street from the driveway and stared up the line of cracked cement. The house was set back from the road, cut off from its neighbors by wooden fences. It looked perfectly normal. The yard was a little unkempt. A sprinkler sat adrift in a sea of dying grass, the attached hose trailing off into the weeds like a snake. Nothing screamed “minion of a ghost.”
