Seal of Destiny (11 page)

“A Super Pig!” Wyck said before attacking his treat with gusto.

“Yes, you are.” Kagan smirked and tossed a balled-up wrapper at Wyck’s head. Wyck shoved another heaping spoonful of sundae into his mouth before flipping him off.

“Oh, I’ve eaten one of those before,” Zoe said, slurping her malt.

“
Si
? And where’d you hide the evidence?” Kagan peeked below the table. Zoe laughed and Xander scowled, his gaze steadfast on the phone screen before him.

“Hey, I wasn’t born with these curves, you know. Takes works to maintain this shape.” Zoe waved her hand in game show hostess fashion. “Besides, I eat when I’m stressed.”

The other warriors glanced at the tray of empty food containers in front of Zoe then at Mira. She grinned and nodded. “It’s true. I wouldn’t want to face her in an eating contest.”

“My kind of lady.” Wyck winked at Zoe. Xander watched the exchange, the phone still squeezed in his fist. The sound of cracking plastic soon filled the air as the device’s protective case gave way beneath the pressure of Xander’s grip. Wyck arched a brow in the commander’s direction, but refrained from commenting.

A commotion sounded near the entrance to the food court. All three warriors rose and spun to face the disturbance, their chairs clattering to the floor. They assumed battle stances, their expressions brimming with lethal challenge.

Mira searched the room for danger, but failed to spot anything sinister. “Hey, guys, what’s going on?”

“Shhh,” Kagan said.

Her anger flared. Mira’s gaze slid from the tip of her steel-toed boot to his butt. How hard would she have to kick his ass to knock him over?

“Don’t ‘shush’ me, asshole!” Mira peeked around Kagan’s arm to find a hulking male approaching. Several patrons froze in place while he stomped through the patio, his icy stare locked on Xander. He halted in front of their table, tension pulsing from his powerful frame.

Wyck broke the silence. “Damn, Chago, some warning would’ve been appreciated.” He righted his toppled chair and sat. “Have a seat, brother.”

Mira frowned when the other warriors returned to their seats and relaxed.
Fantastic, another Scion. How many of these guys are there?
She glanced at Zoe. Her friend devoured her shake faster, watching the new arrival with suspicion.

Kagan made the introductions. “Mira, this is Chago. Chago, Mira.” He pointed across the table. “And Zoe.”

Chago nodded at each of them before returning his attention to Xander. “Argus is on the move. I followed him out of Union Station where he hopped a cab. I’ve got a plate number for you.”

Xander examined the paper Chago handed him before passing it off to Wyck. “Good. Maybe we can get a location on him.”

Wyck grabbed the note. “What’s the cab company?”

“Checker,” Chago said as he pulled up a chair from a nearby table.

“How’s life on the ranch, mate?” Wyck asked.

Chago glanced at Wyck’s ice cream moustache and chuckled. “
Bueno.
”

While the warriors reminisced, Kagan scooted closer to Mira to accommodate their new arrival. His thigh brushed hers, and she jumped at the frisson of awareness caused by the brief contact. His hand moved to her knee. Mira coughed to cover her startled gasp. Maybe small talk wasn’t a bad idea. “Where’s your ranch, Chago?”

The warrior didn’t respond. Instead, he assessed her with his disturbing, icy blue gaze. Mira looked away. His seeming rejection stung worse than she’d imagined. The guy’s hulking size was intimidating, yet she saw a spark of something in his frosty demeanor, a glimmer of her own despair in his tough shell, and she wanted to know why.

“Chago’s not a big talker,” Xander said, smiling. “In his off-ranch time, he’s our warfare expert. You need something annihilated, Chago’s your guy.” He ignored his subordinate’s frosty glare and continued. “His ranch is near Butte, Montana.”

“Sounds nice.” Mira gave Chago a wary smile across the table.

Chago blinked and turned his attention to Kagan, his words layered with a heavy Spanish inflection. “Your mission goes well,
si
?”

Kagan stuffed a few fries in his mouth before answering. “
Si
, but would be better if Argus was dead.”

“Any guesses on his destination, Chay?” Xander asked.

“He came out with a briefcase. Fully loaded by the looks of it.”

“We need to find out what’s inside.” Xander stood. “This might require some urban exploration.”

“Wicked.” Wyck said, his tone deadpan. His phone buzzed, and he read the message with a chuckle. “Got a text from the rest of the chaps. They’re alerted, if we need them. And by alerted I mean sitting on a beach in Hawaii. Barron made the finals in a surfing contest.”

“Fabulous,” Xander said, seemingly unimpressed as he shrugged on his coat. “Time for my daily report in with the boss. Chago, you staying to help?”

“
Si
.” Chago snagged a couple fries off Mira’s abandoned plate.

“What’s urban exploration?” Mira whispered to Kagan.

“Illegal.” Kagan grinned.

Xander glanced at his watch. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. And please be careful with the humans.”

Three warriors answered in unison, “Sure thing.” Xander turned up his collar and disappeared into the crowds.

“Ready?” Chago rose to tower above the group.

Wyck nodded and looked across the table at Kagan. “See you in a few?”

“
Si
.” Kagan leaned back in his chair.

Wyck winked at Zoe. “How about you, darling?”

At Mira’s nod, Zoe rose and dumped her trash into a nearby container. “Ready.”

Mira started to get up. Kagan caught her arm and she froze. His booted foot rubbed her shin, and his quiet voice caressed her ear. “We’ll join them soon,
piccola
.”

She met Zoe’s gaze and formed what she hoped was a reassuring smile. The three took off across the food court to huddle around a service entrance on the opposite side of the patio. Wyck fiddled with the security keypad, and moments later the door sprang open. They disappeared inside and Mira’s stomach twisted.

“What’s going on, Kagan?” Mira turned to find him far too close. Her courage tumbled to her feet.

Kagan smiled, leaning forward when she retreated. With a chuckle, he stood and grabbed his coat. “C’mon,
piccola
. Time for urban exploring.”

He led her to the same service door the others had disappeared through. After a quick recon of the area, Kagan shoved a tiny wireless device into his ear and whispered, “We’re in position.”

Kagan pulled her into a tight embrace, so close she heard Wyck’s reply through the earpiece. “Thirty seconds until the cameras are offline.”

“What the hell?” Mira struggled against the unexpected rush of desire his nearness unleashed.

Kagan’s head lowered, his smile devilish. “We’re going to copy the database.”

His lips brushed hers, and Mira fought the flood of desire simmering through her veins. His hand slipped beneath her hair to stroke the sensitive skin at her nape. She shivered, and he smiled against her mouth. The keypad buzzed loud, breaking their kiss. After a cursory glance around the area, Kagan guided Mira through the door then followed close behind.

She stumbled over her own feet, and Kagan’s soft chuckle brought renewed heat to her face. “Distracted,
piccola
?”

“Fuck you!”

“Volunteering?”

She flipped him off and he laughed.

“In your dreams, asshole.” Mira climbed the stairs ahead of Kagan. “Can we get this done? I’d love not spending the night in jail.”

His deep voice echoed behind her. “Scion don’t go to jail.”

She halted and whirled to face him. He grabbed the railing on either side of her to prevent a collision. “Yeah, well, I’m not Scion.”

“No, you’re not.” Kagan moved closer.

His gaze dropped to her lips, and Mira cursed the sudden rush of passion swirling in her blood. Several floors down, the creak of a metal door reverberated, stealing Kagan’s attention. When he looked back to her, caution had muted his expression. “We need to get a move on,
piccola
.”

“I know,” Mira said and resumed climbing with Kagan in close pursuit.

• • •

Chago waited for them outside the sixth floor stairwell. They moved to an empty supply room. Chago picked the lock before slipping inside without a word. Mira frowned and wondered again about their new arrival’s background, confused as to why she cared. Forty-eight hours earlier, she wouldn’t have allowed herself to engage. Now she couldn’t stop wondering about these strangers who’d turned her solitary life lopsided.

“Chago seems troubled,” Mira said. No response. She glanced back. Kagan leaned against the cinder block wall, checking his phone.

“What?” Kagan looked up from the handheld device. “I got a message from Xander.”

“Don’t let me interrupt.” Mira pushed through the supply room door to find the object of her recent thoughts searching bottles of shelved chemicals. His gruff exterior intrigued her. “Chago, tell me about yourself.”

His search didn’t miss a beat. “Not much to tell.”

“You have a ranch in Montana?”

“
Si.
” Chago selected a jug and took it to the sink lining the opposite wall.

“What kind of ranch?” Mira crouched beside him while he dug through a box of parts, his expression the human equivalent of a
Keep Out
sign.

“The private kind,” Chago said, his tone diamond hard. He stood to rummage through some nearby shelves.

“Hmm. I’d guess cattle or maybe sheep. No, wait. Llamas!” Mira giggled, picturing the huge warrior wrangling the ornery creatures.

Chago glowered. “Cattle, if you must know. Damn, woman, you’re a nuisance.”

“You have no idea,” Kagan said, entering the room. The door clicked shut behind him.
“Bene?”

Chago gave him a brief nod and headed to a private corner with a handful of wires and parts. Her efforts at conversation thwarted, Mira took out her phone and sent a text to Zoe.
Where are you?

She stifled a snort when the response buzzed in a few moments later.
Stuck in closet with a huge guy and a shitload of wires.

• • •

Argus hustled up the stairs of the dilapidated apartment building and, after a quick scan for followers, ducked inside. By the strength of the signal at the station, he’d recognized another Scion.
Bitch must’ve dispatched all seven of the fucking douchebags on me.

After unlocking the door, he lugged the briefcase into the living room and dropped it with a thud on the coffee table. He flipped on the lights and collapsed on the threadbare sofa, staring at the black case before him. His fingers traced the smooth exterior before grasping the two latches on the top and sliding them open. Nothing happened.

He pushed again. Nothing. Frowning, he jammed the buttons to the side, over and over.
Fuckin’ A.
He pounded the case’s top before storming into the kitchen and returning with a large screwdriver. Argus stuck it into the space behind the latches and pried. It slipped, stabbing him in the thumb, and his pained howl echoed.
Son of a bitch!
Argus hurled the tool across the room where it skewered the wall. Next, the briefcase skidded to the floor, and he jumped up and down on it like a gorilla with luggage. Still nothing.

Argus stalked into the bedroom and grabbed his gun.
Boom, boom.
Success!
He fell to his knees and dropped the weapon. Handfuls of computer printouts spewed forth, vital lists of names and locations. He scanned each document before stacking them according to their use, his future arsenal growing with every new page. When he reached the last sheet, he placed it in a stack by itself and ran his hands through the interior of the case.
Where the hell was it?
He’d tracked his treasure for months, ever since the raids on Lucifer’s lair, and had witnessed his host purchasing the relic for a pittance at the local flea market.
It has to be here, for fuck’s sake!

Frustration exploded, and Argus hurled the now tattered attaché across the room. It came to rest beneath a window. A tiny glint caught Argus’s eye before he turned away. His heart raced along with his feet as he rushed to peer inside.

His fingers snatched a triangle of bronze poking from the decimated lining. He claimed his prize from the black felt surroundings, alien heat radiating from its polished surface. Holding it high in front of him, Argus inspected the intricate hieroglyphs and sigils etched into its golden surface. A ruby sparkled from its center while the pendant swung from the chunky metal chain.
At last, Antares.

He slipped it on and the heavy weight pulled around his neck. Argus unbuttoned his shirt to let the amulet fall against his chest, bronze to bare skin. Energy pulsed. His flesh sizzled. The symbols branded deep into his body. He gazed at the glowing talisman, his eyes watering in blissful agony.
Salvation.

Argus grabbed the lone sheet of paper he’d set aside earlier and perused the left side, stopping toward the bottom of the page. Tolbert International.
Lying bastards.
His finger moved to the phone number beside the name. He dialed, only to slam the receiver down moments later. Past business hours.
Shit.

He walked to the bedroom closet and yanked the door wide. A sea of beige polyester and Sansabelt slacks confronted him. He jerked the wallet from his trousers and flipped it open. Two hundred in cash and several credit cards. Time for an extreme makeover, demon style.

Kagan checked his watch and nodded across to Chago. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Chago said.

“Ready,” Wyck chimed in through the earpieces.

Kagan glanced at Mira and gave her a nod. She quirked a brow and rolled her eyes.

They all pulled on a pair of the latex gloves Chago had found during his search. Kagan crossed to the service door and cracked it open. He signaled for the others to follow. They crept into the darkened hall, hugging the wall until they reached the frosted glass doors.

Kagan scanned the area before he whispered, “Team in place.”