The Prophecy (Daughters of the People Series Book 1) (18 page)

He soothed the
sting with another kiss and murmured, “Please what? Please more, please stop,
please don’t ever let you go?”

The porch light
flickered violently off and on, and Maya sagged against the door. Dierdre. What
perfectly awful timing.

James’ soft moan
whispered against her ear, sending shivers over her skin. “Saved by a teenager.”

“Soon to be a
grounded teenager,” Maya muttered.

He laughed
softly and kissed her, slow and easy, and slid his hands up her arms to her
neck. “I’ve mussed your hair.”

Maya bit her
lip, hiding a smile. “You’re the only man I know who’d put it that way.”

“It’s the truth.”
He wound one of her curls around his finger, tugging gently. “When can I see
you again?”

“When do you
want to see me again?”

Heat reignited
in his eyes. He nuzzled her neck, licked her pulse. “I don’t think you want to
know the answer to that question.”

“Fair enough.” Though,
secretly, she already did, and was glad that he, at least, had enough restraint
to pull away. Five more minutes, ten tops, and she would’ve yanked him inside
the house and had him in the foyer.

Thank the
Goddess for Dierdre.

“Tomorrow?”

“Movie night
with Dierdre.” She hesitated, weighing one need against the other. “Would you
like to come?”

“It won’t be an
intrusion?”

“No,” she said
firmly. “As long as you don’t mind the movie. It’s Dierdre’s turn to pick.”

“Ok. Just one
more,” he murmured, and kissed her again, claiming her with a need equal to her
own.

One turned to
two before James left, and Maya couldn’t blame him, not for the kisses, not for
the reluctance to leave. She had just enough control left to keep herself from
staggering inside. She locked the door, against temptation as much as anything.
Mmm
. Who would’ve thought James’ reserve hid such passion? And boy, did
he know how to use it. Hidden depths were the best finds, always.

Dierdre had
retreated to the couch and was watching a movie. Maya stuck her head in the
living room and said goodnight, then climbed the steps to her room, her gait
not quite steady. She undressed slowly, her mind caught on the night she’d
shared with James, and his kiss. She fell into bed smiling and slept soundly
through the night.

The early
morning light illuminated the practice room in Rebecca’s home. Every morning,
she rose early and went through her routine, stretching, exercising, and training.
Achieving mortality hadn’t been enough to overcome centuries of habits.

This morning,
she eschewed weapons practice in favor of yogic stretches. Her body was aging
and needed more work to stay limber and flexible, something she hadn’t had to
worry about as an immortal, or not as much. She emptied her mind and flowed
through several forms, holding each pose before easing into the next, breathing
through the stretches.

Here in her
home, she felt safe enough to relax, but not so much that she lost awareness of
her surroundings. The door to her home gym opened, disrupting the meditative
rhythm of her exercise. Jerusha entered, murmuring a hello and an apology in
one breath.

Rebecca rose
from her final pose and greeted her daughter, examining her from head to toe.
Dark circles marred the skin under Jerusha’s eyes and her shoulders were
slumped. “When did you get in?”

Jerusha rubbed a
hand over her nape and yawned. “Just now. I have some info. Thought you’d want
it as soon as I could get it to you.”

Rebecca exhaled
slowly. Whatever news Jerusha carried, whatever she’d dug up, it must be bad.
“Why don’t you take some time to freshen up? I’ll make you some breakfast and
then we can talk.”

Jerusha nodded
and headed upstairs, her steps slow and even. Rebecca threw a track suit on
over her workout clothes and bustled into the kitchen, her thoughts buzzing
over Jerusha’s news. Good or bad, and it must be truly gut-wrenching, it would
be easier for Jerusha to deliver it on a full stomach, and easier for Rebecca
to absorb and act on it. Breakfast, then, a hearty one. She pulled bacon and fixings
out of the fridge and tucked her worry away as she prepared a meal.

Half an hour
later, Jerusha bounced down the stairs wearing clean clothes, her expression
alert. Robert followed her into the kitchen and maneuvered his wheelchair over
to Rebecca. “Look who I found wandering around upstairs.”

“The prodigal
daughter has returned.” Rebecca bent down and planted a firm kiss on his mouth.
Three decades had failed to dim the sweetness of his touch. “We’ll kill the
fatted calf tonight and have a feast fit for the Seven.”

Robert waggled
his bushy eyebrows and grinned. “That we will. Nothing’s too good for my
girls.”

Bobby stomped
down the stairs whistling and ducked into the kitchen. His handsome face stretched
into a mischievous smile. “Jerusha, hey. I thought I heard an elephant clomping
around.”

“You’re the
elephant. I’m the gazelle.” Jerusha held her arms out and laughed as he grabbed
her up and swung her around. “Put me down, you oaf. We can wrestle later.”

Bobby set her
down and settled his hands on her waist. “I like wrestling now. Thought we
wouldn’t see you ‘til Thanksgiving.”

Jerusha’s dark
eyes slid to Rebecca. “Got some stuff for Mom.”

“Stuff, huh. Is
that what we’re calling it now?” He shook his head and eased away from her.
“How come you get all the good stuff?”

Jerusha stuck
her tongue in her cheek. “Maybe because you’re the baby and I’m the grown up.”

Rebecca plated
the bacon and set it on the kitchen counter. “Children, can we please eat before
the two of you launch into a full-scale war?”

“No chance,”
Robert muttered. “We can still make a run for it.”

Rebecca tutted
and shooed him and her children to the table. The meal passed in a noisy
exchange of barbs between Jerusha and Bobby. When they’d run out of ammunition,
the conversation turned to Jerusha’s work in London at an archaeological dig
and Bobby’s work at his security firm.

In the middle of
one of Bobby’s tales of childhood pranks, Robert slid his hand over Rebecca’s.
“Everything ok?”

She’d never been
able to fool him. No matter what was going on, he always knew when something
was bothering her. “Everything’s fine, darling. I’m a little distracted by some
business Jerusha and I have to deal with this morning.”

“If you’re
sure,” he said, and she squeezed his hand gently.

When breakfast
was done, the men took over kitchen clean-up while Rebecca and Jerusha
retreated to the library. It was one of her favorite rooms, with its book-lined
walls and leather furnishings. She and Robert had spent many hours in here over
the years, immersed in their mutual love for the written word.

Jerusha settled
onto one end of the couch across from the fireplace, one leg folded beneath her.

Rebecca took the
other end, mirroring her daughter’s pose. “What have you found?”

“The Shadow
Enemy hasn’t been dormant for the past few decades, as we thought. They’ve just
been underground, rebuilding.”

“But Alexiou was
so young…” Rebecca pursed her lips together. Rumor had it, Lukas Alexiou, the
Shadow Enemy’s current head, had killed his father at the tender age of
thirteen some twenty-five years before. All of the intelligence she’d received
since then indicated that most of his energy had been devoted to keeping that
organization and his family together, every single scrap. “Specifics?”

Jerusha knuckled
the furrow between her eyebrows. “On the surface, Alexiou is a charming,
generous man, known for his philanthropy. He runs a small auction house
specializing in rare antiquities, but that’s just the surface. His business connections
run much deeper. He also owns antiquity dealers, an import-export business, a
treasure-hunting venture, but the layers he’s put between himself and those
interests are deep. It took a lot of digging to find them.”

“Interesting
that his businesses deal primarily with antiques.”

“That’s not the
worrying part. At the same time that Alexiou’s been building his business, he’s
also been gathering followers to his ultimate cause, the same cause that his
father pursued, destroying the People. I couldn’t pin down the number of people
directly associated with this aspect of the younger Alexiou’s movements, but
it’s easily double the number his father controlled.”

“By the Lady Ki,
how has this slipped past us? I’ve personally had people following key members
of the Shadow Enemy since I took over the directorship, and not a one has
reported any of this to me.” A slow burn twisted through Rebecca. She sucked in
a breath and pinned her daughter with a hard stare. “Are you saying they’ve all
betrayed me, and through me, the People?”

“No.” Jerusha
shifted and pulled a piece of paper out of her pants pocket. “I believe they’re
being manipulated by two or possibly three of these individuals. I just can’t
figure out which ones.”

Rebecca took the
paper with stiff fingers and examined the names. The list was headed by two
members of the Council of Seven, one of whom Rebecca had always thought was a
firm supporter of her leadership. Her heart thudded in her chest, booming so
hard she was certain Jerusha could hear it. “This can’t be right.”

“I’m sorry, Mom,
but everything I’ve learned leads me to those people.”

There were more
than a half dozen other names on the list, in outline form, with one to three
others offset under each one, presumably allies of the main suspects. At the
bottom was a list of four different individuals, separated from the others by a
horizontal line. Every single name on the entire list belonged to an immortal
Daughter.

“And these names
at the bottom?” Rebecca asked.

“They seem to be
working independently for their own purposes. None has betrayed the People that
I can tell, but each one is in some way involved with the companies Alexiou
controls. It could be nothing.”

Or it could be
something. Daughters were an independent bunch, scattered across the globe in
support of the various interests of the People or in pursuit of their own
agendas. Usually, those agendas centered upon education, training, or finding a
mate, but not always. Sometimes, the Daughters’ curiosity put their noses in
business that was better left alone. At other times, it led them into
situations that ultimately benefited the People. A person on the scene was
usually a much better judge of a situation than a distant administrator.
Rebecca had always had a firm policy of never ignoring a Daughter’s innate
instincts in pursuit of bureaucratic regulations. Any of the individuals on
Jerusha’s list could be in similar situations, simply waiting for matters to
come to a head before reporting in, but how to tell?

Rebecca folded
the paper in half. “Thank you, Jerusha.”

Jerusha nodded.
“Do you want me to pursue this?”

“No, dear. I
think it best for you to return to your duties in London.”

“Ok, but if you
need me…”

“I’ll call.”

Jerusha rose, kissed
her mother’s cheek, and left the library.

The door snicked
shut. Rebecca closed her eyes and dropped her head against the back of the
sofa. All this time, the People could’ve been combatting the rise of the next
generation of the Shadow Enemy, and instead, someone had hidden the needed
information, stolen it from under her very nose. Chances were good that the one
who’d done so was someone Rebecca trusted. The betrayal cut deeply, sapping her
energy. What a fool she’d been. How could she not have known? Had she become so
complacent in her duties that these manipulations had slipped by her?

More
importantly, what was she going to do about it?

Rebecca rose and
secured the list in her personal safe. She needed time to think through
everything Jerusha had told her, but she didn’t need the list for that. The
names had already burned themselves into her memory.

* * *

The weeks passed
slowly as summer hit its apex and waned toward fall. After that first date,
Maya stopped resisting James and saw him as often as they both had time,
usually with Dierdre in tow.

The teen’s near
continual presence made it impossible for them to explore a physical
relationship. Maya was in no hurry, but that first kiss had kindled a longing
for something deeper. As they spent more and more time together, squeezing in
moments between work, family, and life, they were becoming closer, maybe even
developing a solid friendship, an odd situation for her. She’d never been
friends with a man she wanted the way she wanted him.

Meanwhile, James
seemed determined to act the gentleman. She was equally determined that he not.
Their first stolen kiss, shared in his lab with the door conspicuously locked,
he backed her against the wall and kissed her so sweetly, she melted under his
touch. His hands skimmed over her waist and back and shoulders, and though he
nibbled gently on her neck, he made no move to go any farther.

That would never
do.

Since he
wouldn’t, Maya took the initiative a little at a time, starting with their
third kiss, in her office hidden behind the cabinet holding her supplies. She
snuck her hands under his shirt and stroked his stomach, dug her nails lightly
into his back, and blossomed for him, leaving herself completely open to his
touch.

A few days
later, he cornered her in his office and pushed her against his bookcase, exploring
her mouth in a greedy kiss. She dipped a finger into the edge of his waistband,
and he moaned and rocked into her, pressing his growing erection against her.
He unbuttoned the top buttons of her shirt and feathered kisses along her
collarbone, and his hands grew bold, grasping her bottom, fitting her against
his need as he murmured encouragement, urging her into boldness. A knock on his
door startled them apart. Maya glared at the door, her heart pounding, her skin
deliciously tight and achy. Five more minutes and they would’ve been on the
floor, making love. How much more could she take?

One memorable
Saturday afternoon, they got a little too carried away. Dierdre ran over to a
friend’s house on an errand, leaving Maya and James alone. They put a movie in
and settled on the sofa, both fully aware that Dierdre could be back at any
moment. What started as an innocent kiss ended with him pushing her onto the
couch, aligning his body on top of her, his mouth greedily devouring hers. He
pushed her t-shirt up and was unhooking her bra when Dierdre came in, her mind
and hands thankfully preoccupied with texting. Maya shoved her shirt down and
bit back a panicked giggle, and a pink tinge crept into James’ cheek beneath
his hot gaze.

“Later,” he
whispered, and she agreed wholeheartedly. Later would be great. It was the when
that was the problem.

They were more
careful after that, sneaking kisses when they were alone, holding hands when
they weren’t, whispering promises to one another at the end of each day. It was
simply a matter of time before they consummated their relationship. Only the
lack of opportunity kept them from doing so.

The Friday of
Labor Day weekend, James left early to pick Amelia up from Hartsfield
International Airport for her week-long visit. Maya corralled Dierdre into a
thorough house cleaning. Having both girls around would lessen the chance for
sex. Frustrating, yes, but unavoidable. James would be with Amelia while
Dierdre was on her camping trip. Maya didn’t begrudge his time with his daughter,
far from it, but time alone with him would be splendid, just him and her and a
comfortable bed. How could she have forgotten how hard it was to have sex with
children around and how deliciously frustrating the long wait was?