Heart Of Atlantis (32 page)

“I don’t know, she has a long braid, the boss said she had a long braid,” another one said in an unexpectedly high, squeaky voice that nearly surprised a laugh out of Rio. Things that ugly and that big shouldn’t sound like Mickey Mouse.

“Look, if you’re Rio Green, the boss just wants to talk to you,” the first one said, his hands out at his sides in what was clearly meant to be a nonthreatening position.

Ha.

“I don’t know anybody named Rio Green,” she said evenly, eyeing the distance between her and the fence. “You have the wrong person.”

“See, that sounds like a lie,” Mountain Man said, taking a step forward.

The other two moved to flank her, and she pushed her fear aside and dropped her mental barrier, listening frantically for whatever they might be thinking that might help her figure out how to escape.

Mountain Man’s thoughts were so unsurprising she didn’t have to be a telepath to figure them out.
Too bad the boss said not to kill her. Wonder if he’d mind if I play with her a little first?

Squeaky’s mind wasn’t quite on business.
Shouldn’t have had that spaghetti Bolognese. I need some antacids in the worst way.

And the third guy’s thoughts were so oily and incoherent that Rio nearly gagged just from brushing up against them.
Rip, shred, tear, bloody, bloody, Tuesday, lovely pie, yummy candy, rip, shred, tear—

She slammed her mental barrier back in place and tried something only an idiot would fall for. She whipped her head to the side, stared at the gate behind them, and screamed.

“Rio! Run! These guys are here for you!”

All three of them turned around, and she ran the other way for the fence like she’d never run before. She put her hands on the flat surface of the wrought iron between two spikes and vaulted over like some kind of track star, marveling even as she flew through the air at what adrenaline could do for somebody in fear for her life. Her ankle twisted under her as she landed; not enough for a sprain, but enough that she knew she’d need to ice it soon or pay the price the next day. If she lived to see the next day. She hit the ground running and raced through the streets faster than she’d ever moved before.

Seventeen blocks. Hit Tenth, turn left at the charms and potions shop just past the High Line Park entrance at Fourteenth, and she’d be there. If only
he’d
be there. Luke practically lived at his office, and three in the morning wasn’t all that late for him. Her mind was racing, babbling at her, as she tried desperately to pretend she didn’t hear the footsteps pounding after her.

They weren’t all that far behind, and she didn’t think she could outrun them. A quick glance back showed them, if not gaining, at least keeping pace. They were fast for such big guys, again with her sucky luck. Her heart sped up, her feet sped up, even though her ankle was killing her, and she headed straight for the nearest place she could think of that might help. The Roadhouse was only a block away. Three
A.M.
was still Happy Hour at the Roadhouse, but hopefully the nightly stabbings and bar fights would be over.

It wasn’t like she had a choice. She wasn’t going to make it fourteen more blocks without getting caught. She put on a burst of speed that made her ankle burn like fire, and she nearly flew under the garish neon sign and through the door of the Roadhouse, slamming into a brick wall that stopped all forward motion. Arms like steel bands wrapped around her to steady her, and she looked up to discover that the brick wall wasn’t a wall at all.

It was Miro, the ogre head bouncer.

“It’s a little late for a delivery, isn’t it?” His bushy black brows drew together in a tangled frown as he released her. He was a solid wall of muscle, eight feet tall and a good five feet wide, and the coarsely woven shirt he wore with his jeans made him look like a farmer who’d gotten lost on his way from the barn in the land of giants. His ruddy skin only had the faintest tinge of green—those kids’ movies had gotten ogres all wrong.

“No delivery, Miro, just picked up some unwanted traffic on my trail,” she said in between sucking in deep breaths. She wasn’t used to running, since she took the bike everywhere. Out of practice, out of shape. She glanced at the door.

Out of time.

“Miro, can I duck out the back door, and you stall these guys? They’re big, and I don’t want to cause trouble, but—”

Miro laughed his big, booming laugh, and the floor underneath Rio’s feet actually shook. “I will snack on their bones like pretzels if they try to cause trouble. You run along, little girl, and bring me some jelly beans the next time you deliver.”

She rose up on her tiptoes, and he leaned down so she could kiss his cheek. “I promise. No black ones.”

Miro’s cheeks flushed a deep red. “You’re a good girl. Now go. I hear somebody coming. Time to do my Fee Fie Fo Fum routine.”

She went.

By the time she heard Miro’s rumbling growl thunder through the room in a warning, she was already halfway out the back door. Her ankle was throbbing, and the initial burst of adrenaline was wearing off. She didn’t know how she was going to make it all the way to Luke’s office.

“That was a hell of a lot easier than I expected. I’m good, but even I’m not that good,” a deep, sexy voice said from behind and to the left of the door.

A voice she’d never forgotten.

“Hello, Luke. I was actually just coming to visit you,” she said evenly, trying not to look like somebody who needed rescuing. Even if she did.

“There’s a funny coincidence,” he said slowly, sweeping his gaze from her head to her toes and back up again, assessing, measuring, probably finding her wanting. After all, she hadn’t been good enough for him before.

Damn him, though, he was as gorgeous as ever. Silky black hair just a little too long, his face unshaven like a pirate’s and chiseled like a woman’s secret fantasy. He was six-feet-plus of hard muscle and lean, dangerous lines, and that frightening brain of his was always calculating his next moves at least ten steps ahead. It was why he was so good at his job—some called him the Dark Wizard of Bordertown, even though he’d always denied having any real magic.

Some called him Sheriff, and it was rarely a compliment.

She’d called him
hers
. She’d been wrong.

A cacophony of shouting and crashes sounded from the bar and she hurriedly shut the door behind her. Luke glanced from the closed door to her, raising one silken eyebrow.

“That anything to do with you?”

She lifted her chin. “Why do you ask?”

A corner of that dangerously seductive mouth quirked up, and he shook his head. “Still stubborn, I see.”

She clenched her teeth against the wave of sensation that crashed through her at the sound of his husky voice. It wasn’t fair. He probably hadn’t thought of her once in the year since he’d told her they were over, and she’d thought of him almost every day.

“Can we go to your office? I need . . . to hire you,” she said, unable to say the
other
H word. Unable to ask for
help
like a pitiful supplicant. She had money. She’d get more out of her savings account in the morning and mail Mrs. G back her cash. All she needed was to find that little girl, and then maybe get out of town.

“Let’s go,” he said. Just like that. She remembered that about him, too; he wasn’t a man to waste words. She wondered, in spite of herself, what else about him hadn’t changed. Did he still kiss like a fallen angel? She shivered and shook her head to clear her mind of the memories. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong man.

He stood waiting, silent and watchful. Luckily, he couldn’t read her mind, and she’d never been able to penetrate his, either. He was a strange anomaly, and she’d always found it restful. Until now, when she wanted to know what he was thinking.

What he was thinking about
her
.

“Let’s go,” she echoed, nodding firmly and taking a step toward him. She landed on her injured ankle and cried out, then tumbled face-forward toward the sidewalk. Strong arms scooped her up and she found herself cradled against Luke’s chest, breathing in his familiar scent of forest and spice as if the year they’d been apart had never happened.

“This is not how I expected this to go,” he said softly, almost as if he didn’t want her to hear him. “I think I’m in trouble.”

The door behind them smashed open, and Mountain Man stormed out, carrying an axe.

“I think we’re both in trouble,” Rio said.

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T
HE
W
ARRIORS OF
P
OSEIDON
S
ERIES BY
A
LYSSA
D
AY

Atlantis Rising

High Prince Conlan’s Story

Atlantis Awakening

Lord Vengeance’s Story

Atlantis Unleashed

Lord Justice’s Story

Atlantis Unmasked

Alexios’s Story

Atlantis Redeemed

Brennan’s Story

Atlantis Betrayed

Christophe’s Story

Vampire in Atlantis

Daniel’s Story

Heart of Atlantis

High Priest Alaric’s Story

S
PECIALS

“Wild Hearts in Atlantis” from
Wild Thing

Bastien’s Story

“Shifter’s Lady” from
Shifter

Ethan’s Story