Dark Warrior Untamed (6 page)

“So, tell me. Should I be looking for Greyhill Danby in my textbooks as well?” she asked as they threw out their garbage. She wasn’t sure he was going to answer, but when they walked out into the bright sunshine he finally did. Sort of.

“That depends on the time period you’re covering in class.” He unlocked the car door for her.

His expression was completely deadpan, leaving her no clue about whether he was serious. Searching for him could be a fool’s errand, but she might give it a try. She always loved a challenge.

Lunch had been a nice interlude between the upsetting morning and what would most likely be a tense afternoon as she squeezed in one last study session before her test. At least Grey had proved to be an enjoyable companion, letting his guard down enough to seem younger and more approachable. It was nice.

But then he pulled the car over at the same place where he’d dropped her off the day before.

“So Piper, mind telling me why you wanted to insinuate yourself in the Dame’s household?”

Her stomach lurched as if the Jag had just plunged down a sudden dip on a roller coaster.

“That’s a rather loaded question, don’t you think?”

Before he could respond, she held up her fingers
and counted off the points. “Let’s see, Kerry and I met and really hit it off. She needs an assistant, one who’s good with numbers and has a background in accounting. I need a job that is flexible enough to work around my classes. It’s as simple as that. Nothing sinister, no hidden agendas.”

She was proud of how calm she sounded even while lying through her teeth.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to be late.”

Grey had deliberately waited to spring the question on Piper, figuring he’d get as much out of her reaction as he would her actual answer. He watched her stalk away, her temper showing in each step.

So, that went well. Not only did he piss off Piper, but he ruined his own good mood at the same time. Damn, it was easy to forget himself when he was with her. He was the new security officer, responsible for making sure the Dame was safe from anyone who might wish her harm. Even Piper.

Instead, he couldn’t keep his mind off the angry brunette who’d just disappeared into the building without looking back. Even if she were his type—which she most definitely wasn’t—it was far too soon to be wondering how that smart mouth of hers would taste. Maybe it was an indication that he’d been too long without someone to share his bed.

Nothing more.

He slammed the car into gear, and with an apology to his poor clutch, he peeled out of the university driveway
and headed for the interstate. He knew he should get back to the office, but right now he needed to let off steam more. Getting Piper Ryan in bed was out of the question for a lot of reasons, so he’d have to make do with tearing up the highway for an hour or two.

“Gee, Grey, that must have been some lunch.” Sandor leaned against the doorframe, a knowing smile on his face. “Or did you get lost driving back here from the deli?”

“Go to hell, Sandor. Or at least go somewhere else. I’ve got work to do.”

Grey kept his eyes on his computer screen. Sandor was no fool and damned good at reading people. The last thing Grey needed was for Sandor to think something was going on.

But instead of leaving, Sandor strolled on in and sat down at Piper’s desk.

“Kerry tells me that you and Piper had some sort of computer glitch this morning. Need any help with that?”

Grey’s first instinct was to say no, but he hadn’t been able to get anywhere in tracing the origins of the e-mail. Maybe Sandor would have better luck. He had to trust
somebody.

Grey drew a deep breath and turned to face Sandor. “I told Kerry that Piper thought someone tried to send her a virus. Which is true, but there’s more to it. The e-mail came from an unknown address, one
that didn’t fit the usual format. Rather than delete it, Piper opened it.”

“Not necessarily the wisest choice, but I probably would have done the same thing.” Sandor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So what happened when it opened?”

“According to Piper, the whole system blanked out for several seconds. When it came back up, the screen had a black background and was covered with one phrase written over and over in red.”

Sandor might have a reputation for being charming, but only a fool would miss the intelligence behind that easy smile.

“What did it say?”

Grey dropped the bombshell. “
The day of reckoning is coming.
”

Sandor’s smile disappeared immediately. “Son of a bitch! What’s that supposed to mean? Well, beyond the obvious threat.”

“I don’t know—yet. But don’t worry, I
will
find out.”

The gold sparks flickering in Sandor’s eyes matched the blue flames in Grey’s own. Too bad neither of them had a solid target for their aggression.

“It gets stranger. The message startled Piper and before I could do more than take a quick look, the screen went blank again. And then the e-mail was gone.”

“You mean you couldn’t open the message again?”

“No, I mean it was literally gone. It’s like the damned thing never existed. I was going to dig deeper
when you came in.”

“I don’t like this.” Sandor studied Piper’s computer. “I assume she ran a complete scan?”

It wasn’t really a question. “First thing. I also ran one on my computer, and then on Kerry’s and Ranulf’s. No weird e-mails, no viruses.”

“Okay, I’ll check Piper’s system myself.”

“Do you need me to get you in?”

Sandor’s fingers were already dancing over the keys. “Nope. I set you up with the authority to override any security protocols, but I kept mine as well. I was going to have you change it when you got back, but maybe we should hold off for the moment.”

Piper wasn’t going to like having the two of them messing around in her files, but too bad. “Let me know what you find or if you need any help.”

“Will do.”

Half an hour passed with the click and clatter of computer keys filling the air, punctuated only by Sandor muttering obscenities whenever he got frustrated. Grey knew how he felt and added his own curses to the litany. He kept coming up with nothing. The e-mail could’ve been a prank, but his gut was telling him otherwise.

He was about to give up and heave the CPU
against the wall when Sandor sat up straight and said, “Well, I’ll be damned. Grey, you need to look at this.”

“Did you find it?”

“Yes, and I also found who sent it.” The gold flames were back again, and dark swirls of energy flowed under the skin on Sandor’s hand as he pointed at the screen.

“I can’t read it from here, and I’m in no mood for games. Who sent the damned thing?”

Sandor pointed at the screen. “According to this, you did. Care to explain that?”

S
ean flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. Where the fuck was Sandor? The man had promised they’d work out together this afternoon, but so far he was a no-show. Okay, maybe something had come up, but he could’ve at least said so instead of leaving Sean hanging. He would’ve understood. Shit happens.

Sean had never been any good at waiting, and lately he was a whole lot worse. He held up his hand and stared at the strange swirls of dark blue moving under his skin. Even though he knew that the energy burning there was part of his Kyth nature, it still creeped him out. What kind of freak came with eyes and hands that sported flame jobs?

Him, for one. Ranulf and Sandor, too, because it was evidently standard equipment for Talions. He was willing to bet that snooty British guy, Grey Danby, had some serious mojo going on. From that first night, Sandor’s burning eyes had totally freaked Sean out, but Danby’s eyes were ice cold, sending shivers down Sean’s spine.

He was pretty damn sure that if it had been up to Grey, Sean would be dead and buried; he definitely wouldn’t be living in the Dame’s mansion. And all because Sean
had lost control of his body’s need for energy. Okay, sure, he’d hurt some regular humans and stripped that last guy of nearly every drop of his life energy. But Sean hadn’t known any better. None of them had.

He closed his eyes and rested his forearm across his face, blocking out the light—and the memories.

The burn was getting worse. Maybe he should go find Sandor. Sean was up and out his bedroom before he could change his mind. If worse came to worst, he’d head for the basement gym and lift weights.

A deep rumble of voices from the front of the house led him straight to Sandor. Unfortunately, he was with Grey Danby. Sean hesitated outside of the office door, debating whether or not to disturb them.

Deciding Talion business trumped their workout, he started to walk away when Grey appeared in the doorway. The cold-eyed jerk glared at him. “Sean? Why are you sneaking around out here?”

“I wasn’t sneaking. I was looking for Sandor. To talk to him.”

Grey stepped back out of the way. “So there he is. Talk.”

Sandor tore his attention away from the computer screen. When he saw Sean, he looked confused and then checked his watch.

“God, is it that late already? Sean, I didn’t mean to
forget you, but something came up that needed my attention. Mind if we reschedule?”

Sean did his best to hide his disappointment. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Tomorrow? Same time?”

“Fine.”

Sandor smiled. “Good, I’ll look forward to it. And, Sean, I really am sorry I forgot.”

Grey kept his eyes pinned on Sean, looking suspicious. Did the jerk think he was going to steal something or what? Either way, it was obvious Grey wasn’t happy to be interrupted, especially by him. It was time to get out of there. Sean stalked off, well aware of Grey watching him until he turned the corner.

Back in his room, Sean kicked the door shut, wishing it was Danby’s face. That guy seriously creeped him out. Something about the way Danby was always watching him, like he was just waiting for Sean to screw up. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Not if Sean could help it. Besides, Sandor wouldn’t let the bastard hurt him. Not now.

Just then a heavy fist pounded on the door, startling Sean. Maybe Sandor decided to blow Grey off after all.

But instead of Sandor, big, bad Ranulf Thorsen filled the doorway. The redheaded giant was only slightly less scary than Danby. So far the man had given the Sean a fair shake, and he trusted him because Sandor did. That didn’t mean Sean didn’t have a healthy respect for the man and his temper.

Sean stumbled back a couple of steps. “Sorry, sir, I was expecting Sandor.”

Ranulf nodded. “Yeah, well, he sent me because he didn’t want you to miss your workout. He’s dealing with a computer problem. Let’s go.”

Holy crap! Sure, he’d been training with Sandor, but he wasn’t ready tangle with someone Ranulf’s size. Not to mention the man had a thousand years of fighting practice, most of it while wearing animal skins and carrying a sword.

“I’d rather wait for Sandor.”

Sean’s voice cracked, but he kept his chin up, facing Ranulf head on. It was hard not to squirm under the man’s stony glare, but he did his best.

“I didn’t hear anyone ask what you’d rather, kid. You agreed to do what you were told. Now prove you’re a man of your word.”

Ranulf didn’t wait to see if Sean was following. He knew Sean wouldn’t dare refuse. To back out now would be suicide.

He followed Ranulf downstairs to the training room. Sandor had posted a chart on the wall for Sean to keep track of his workouts. Knowing what to do, Sean headed for the weight bench and got down to business. He quickly worked up a sweat, thanks in part to a good case of nerves. When he stopped to change positions, Ranulf was standing right behind him.

“Good form, kid. Do one more set of reps to warm up. You’ll finish the rest of your routine on your own afterward.”

Afterward? What did that mean? Sean counted off his reps and set the weights back on the rack.

Ranulf was waiting for him in the center of the
room. He’d peeled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. If anything, he looked even bigger bare chested with only that necklace hanging around his neck. He held a sword in a two-handed grip.

“Is that thing real?” It sure looked like it to Sean’s untrained eyes. Sharp and shiny with a leather-wrapped handle.

The Viking nodded. “Yes, it is. Old, too. Have you ever fought with a blade?”

“Yeah, who hasn’t?”

Ranulf cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. “Want try that again, punk?”

Sean flushed with embarrassment. “Okay, I’ve used a knife. Once. Nothing anywhere close to that size.”

But, oh man, he wanted to.

Clearly reading Sean’s interest, Ranulf stepped closer and held the blade out so he could see it better. “I don’t expect you to master how to fight with it overnight. I do expect you to respect the weapon—and me, which means taking orders without question. Got that?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Everything came with a price whether or not he wanted to pay it.

Ranulf lowered the sword to his side and frowned. Sean recognized the look. He was skating pretty close to pissing off Ranulf big time.

He dropped his gaze in surrender. “Yes, sir, I got that.”

After a quick nod of approval, Ranulf offered Sean the sword, pommel first. Sean held the weapon up and stared at it. “You still fight with swords?”

“Sometimes. Sandor and I both use firearms more often though, so we’ll teach you how to shoot, too. But there’s nothing like fighting with a sword to teach you control. And we both know you need that.”

It was futile to hope the man hadn’t sensed Sean’s control slipping again. Still, learning how to swing a sword would be a whole lot more fun than endless reps with weights.

Ranulf picked up another sword, one that seriously dwarfed Sean’s.

“Stand beside me and do what I do. Ask questions if you don’t understand. I’d rather you learned it right the first time than have to break bad habits.”

For the next hour, they lunged and retreated, gradually picking up speed. Sean thought his arms were going to fall off when Ranulf finally signaled that it was time to stop, but Sean couldn’t stop grinning as he reluctantly surrendered the sword to Ranulf.