Wicked Waves: Solsti Prophecy #2 (3 page)

Brooke jerked.
Blond hair flying
. She had dreamed of a blond woman last night. Or was it a demon?
 
The female’s coal black eyes turned red as she stared at Brooke. They stood in a dimly lit house, but Brooke didn’t recognize it. The creature came closer, grinning hideously, and then opened her mouth to reveal
fangs
. They dripped with blood, but whose?
 
The woman's mouth opened wider than humanly possible, stretching and contorting, drawing closer to Brooke—

And that was it. The dream ended. Brooke shuddered, shaking off the disturbing images.
It was only a dream.
The demon realm was full of, well, demons, as well as other things that the sisters would never have believed were real. Brooke tried to not let anything surprise her anymore.

She finished her bath and toweled off as she walked to her closet. Choosing a fitted red T-shirt and her favorite boot-cut jeans, she pulled them on. Next, a swipe of lip gloss and her black low-heeled boots.

Making quick work of a yogurt, she grabbed her backpack and an apple, and left the safety of her building. She loved the leafy trees on her block. Lincoln Park was a nice neighborhood, full of old brownstones and new condo buildings like her own. Families and yuppies lived here, and the streets were lined with coffee shops, restaurants, and trendy stores. Parks occupied every other corner.

No, her neighborhood was fine. But there was the threat of something
else
wandering through it. When Nicole moved out, she wanted Brooke to go with her to the demons' house in Evanston. Brooke refused, wanting to keep their beautiful condo as well as her independence, but the others insisted on protective wards as a condition.

Fine.
The wards didn't impact her life, except to prevent anything evil from creeping in and killing her. The wards extended to the entire building, so it was one of the safest in the city. Little did her neighbors know that the building’s security system had been beefed up by magic. Grinning, she walked the few blocks to the El station at Fullerton. When a Purple Line train pulled in, she boarded it and settled in for the ride north.

Brooke opened the front door of the place she and Nicole had nicknamed Demon Central. It was a huge old mansion sitting on a vast manicured yard. Large trees stood sentry in the front, and thick hedges shielded it from the road.

Calling out a greeting, more from habit than necessity, she walked across the stone-tiled foyer. The demons living here had enhanced hearing. All their senses exceeded those of humans, so they would have registered her approach before she even touched the door.

Brooke made a beeline for the kitchen at the back of the house, drawn by the light-hearted yet booming voices that grew louder as she neared. The room looked like something out of a magazine, with its gleaming black granite counters, recessed lighting, and stainless steel appliances. She inhaled the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and surveyed the scene.

Her sister stood with her back to her. Two of the largest men Brooke had ever met peered over Nicole’s shoulders. One of them turned to her and grinned. “It's the Brookster, to the rescue!”

“Hey, Rhys.” She smiled at the dark eyed demon. His thick brown hair was cropped short. Sometimes it looked like he had haphazardly run his hands through it and it stuck out all over. Today, it was smoothed forward, laying close to his skull. “What do you mean, rescue?” she asked.

“Your sister needs some, uh, help at the stove,” he said in a loud whisper.

The other towering man turned to smirk at Rhys. “Ix-nay on the elp-hay.”

Brooke’s eyes widened. “Morning, Gunnar,” she said to Nicole’s mate. “What’s going on in here?”

“I heard both of those comments.” Nicole turned around, and Brooke bit her lip to suppress a giggle. A streak of flour ran down her sister’s cheek, and splashes of egg dotted her black T-shirt. Her blond hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. Blond hair that had recently acquired an inky-black, inch-wide streak. Brooke still did a double-take when she saw it.

“I tried to make your recipe for oven-baked Dutch apple pancakes,” Nicole said. “But, um, this is what happened.”
 
She held out a rectangular glass baking dish that was filled with a soupy mixture of eggs, sugar, and floating apple slices.

She looked so disappointed, Brooke stifled her laugh and smiled instead. “Hey, you tried. Let's start over. Do you have more eggs?”
 
She washed her hands at the small sink in the middle of the island, while Nicole poured the sad excuse for breakfast down the garbage disposal of the large farm sink by the window.

“Do we have more eggs!” Nicole repeated, and it wasn't a question. “With the appetites in this house, we may as well buy a few hens. For guys who don't have to eat every day, they sure seem to appear every time I cook for myself.”
 
She grinned up at her hulking black-haired mate, whose tender smile looked incompatible with his formidable presence.

Dropping a kiss on Nicole's head, he murmured, “I'll let you two work your magic in here.”

“I'm teaching her everything I know,” Brooke said, as the men headed into the great room.

Alone in the kitchen, the sisters started from scratch with the pancake recipe. As she cracked eggs, Brooke asked, “Does Torth have vampires?”

Nicole frowned. “We didn't run into any when we were there. Why?”

“I had the weirdest dream last night.” Then again, things that used to seem weird were becoming the
new normal
.

“About a vampire?”

“I guess. She had fangs, red eyes, and blond hair.”

“Hmm.” Nicole wiped her flour-coated fingers on a paper towel. “If I've learned anything in the last month, it's that things can only get weirder. We can ask the guys about it.”

Brooke nodded as they assembled the ingredients, making a double batch, and popped the baking dishes into the ovens. Thirty minutes later, Nicole remarked, “I see five hungry demons hanging around out there.”

Five?
Brooke pasted a smile on her face as she took one of the dishes out. Let them think she was pleased that demons liked her recipe. Five meant that they were all home. Including Kai.

“You know, I'm going to skip this meal,” Brooke said.

Nicole's eyebrows shot up and she opened her mouth to protest, but Brooke stopped her.

“I don’t want to eat too much right now. I'm here for my weekly punishment, remember?
 
Oh wait, I meant to say, my
weapons training
session with Brenin.”
 
She grinned as Brenin poked his head into the kitchen.

“Good gods, it smells awesome in here. Marry me, Brooke.” He winked.

“No,” she replied with a smile and a shake of her head.

The blond demon clapped his hand over his heart in mock affront. With hair that hung down to the middle of his back, he looked like a modern-day Viking. He loved to banter with everyone, including her, but Brooke felt nothing beyond friendship for her occasional trainer.

Nicole narrowed her eyes at him. “Hey, how do you know
I
didn’t make the kitchen smell this good?”

The tall demon blanched and stuttered, “Umm…uh, I gotta help Rhys beat the Halo level he’s on right now.”
 
He ducked out of the kitchen in a flash.

Nicole sighed. “I guess everyone knows you’re the breakfast expert in the family.”

Brooke smiled and patted her sister’s shoulder. “You’ve got lots of time to learn. Can you save me a piece of this?”

“Easier said than done around here. But I will, even if I have to put a lock on the fridge.”

“Thanks. Tell Brenin I’ll meet him downstairs.”

For all the old-money look of the demons' home, the inside had been updated with every modern convenience. Brooke opened a door in the kitchen that led down a flight of stairs to an immense work-out room.
 
It was equipped with everything a battle-hardened warrior could want: a firing range, a large treadmill, free weights, a shower, punching bags, and a large open space with blue padded floor mats. Brooke headed to the weapons area, where she found every length of knife or sword imaginable, as well as wicked-looking instruments that she couldn't fathom how to use.

She picked up a small dagger and looked at the wall opposite her. Three wooden beams had been nailed to it at varying heights, each beam six feet long and scarred with the evidence of its use. Taking aim at the highest beam, she hurled the dagger end over end, watching with a satisfied grin as it sunk into the wood.

She worked for a few minutes, feeling confident as each of her knives hit its mark. Then again, her hand-eye coordination had always been strong. In school, she had been known for her killer serves in volleyball and tennis. Those were the sports she managed to squeeze in around the mixed martial arts she and Nicole loved.

She picked up the last of the small blades and drew her arm back.

“Nice work, Sprite.”

The dagger sailed wide to the right, her concentration startled by the last person she wanted to talk to.
 

“Except for that one.”
 
His deep voice resonated along her skin.

She turned around and glared at the source of her frustration. “What do you want, Kai?”

Well over six feet tall, his broad shoulders filled the doorframe. Chocolate-brown eyes pierced her as a smile tugged at his full lower lip. A smile that was always sarcastic when aimed at her. “Just checking on your progress.”

She forced her expression to become neutral and walked across the room to retrieve her blades. “I’m doing fine.”

“I don’t know about that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I only missed the last one because
you
walked in and surprised me.”

“Aw, do I distract you, Sprite?”

“Yes. No!
 
I mean…” She gritted her teeth, all pretense of neutrality gone. God, how he irritated her. Especially with that ridiculous nickname he had given her after comparing her to a water sprite.

He lounged against the wall, smirking, a mountain of muscles. Uncapping his water bottle, he took a long drink and tossed the cap into the garbage. He swirled the bottle with lazy circles of his wrist.

“Seriously, Brooke, getting caught off guard can mean death.”

“I understand that.”

“Want to throw again?
 
I can give you some pointers.”

“No, I’m done. Brenin will be down here soon anyway.”
 
Returning to the weapons table, she laid each blade down gently.

“So, what are you going to do until he’s done with breakfast?
 
Which was great, by the way.”

“Thank you.”
 
At least he knew how to be polite when he wanted to. “I’m going to hit the bags.”

“Wanna punch me instead?”

“No.”

“Sparring can be—”

“Go away, Kai.”

“Are you sure—”

Brooke huffed out an exasperated breath. She had reached the limit of her patience with the cocky, sarcastic demon.

Pinning him with an icy stare, she lowered her gaze to his water bottle. With a burst of energy from her mind, she sent the water shooting up into his face. She packed so much force into the blast that some of it flew into the air above him, so she mentally grabbed the stray drops and brought them down on his blond hair, making sure he was soaked.

His eyes, which had closed at the onslaught, opened to look at her from beneath spiky, wet lashes. He blinked and shook water from his head, his expression unreadable.

She folded her arms over her chest and smirked. “Getting caught off guard can mean death.”

“Touché, Sprite.” He turned and walked out of the room.

C
HAPTER
2

K
AI
’
S
POWERFUL
FORM
RETREATED
INTO
the hall, his footsteps echoing on the stairs that led to the kitchen. That broad back…she had seen it bare once before. A nasty scar of two vertical lines ran down one shoulder blade, marring the rippling perfection of his muscles. She didn’t understand how he got it, because the Lash demons, as well as other supernatural creatures like her, had enhanced healing abilities. All the fighting they did, all the wounds they incurred, and the others would show up with maybe a bruise that healed by lunchtime. Certainly no visible scars.

Her mind wandered back to another morning here at Demon Central, the day she met Kai. She had been in the kitchen and turned to see him in the doorway, watching her. His short blond hair was tousled, like he had dragged a hand through it after a rough night. She looked into arresting eyes whose color flickered between dark whiskey and chocolate brown.

The sensual tan-gold of his skin was prominently displayed, since he wore only a pair of button-fly jeans. He left the top button undone, and they hung perilously low on his narrow hips. Fine gold hair dusted his sinewy chest, and she had to force herself not to let her eyes follow the trail of gold down to where it disappeared into his jeans. Brown eyes usually made her think of puppies, but Kai’s eyes stole her breath and seared her with undisguised heat. He managed to look both boyish and dangerously sexy, like a prom king turned underwear model. She was so flustered that she couldn’t form a coherent sentence; she had only stuttered something moronic.

Then he had opened his mouth. And asked—no, ordered—her to make him breakfast. In a split second her racing thoughts slowed, her flushed skin cooled, and she refused him. Disbelief flared in his eyes as he prowled toward her. She didn’t know what would have happened had Brenin not walked in and defused the situation. Kai had turned and stalked away.

Every word he’d uttered to her since then was sarcastic or insulting. When she walked into a room, he walked out. She didn’t know what she’d done to earn his animosity, other than not follow his rude, ridiculous order.

She rolled her eyes.
His loss
.

Too bad her body seemed to disagree with her mind on that point. Every time she met his gaze, she felt a spark of…something. Excitement?
 
Awareness?
 
Annoyance?
 
She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she didn’t like it.