On the Edge of Love (Mama's Brood Book 1) (13 page)

Sabrina slid her gaze over his body again, liking the way his jeans hugged those tree-trunk thighs and tight ass. Take away the crazy, three-quarters of the possessiveness, enhance his communication skills, and decrease his love for sticking people with sharp objects, and she wouldn’t hesitate to have sex with him. She was barely hesitating as it was.

Once he was safely out of her life, she would pull up all his physical attributes, even keeping his golden skin when she preferred darker tones, give him an English accent like Idris Elba—whom both she and Randy were obsessed with—and she would have the perfect fantasy to get through the cold and lonely nights. She hated to admit it, but even with the sections of scarred skin covering his body, Zeus was the closest thing to a perfect physical specimen of man she’d ever had the pleasure of actually touching. Ernesto had been only slightly taller than she was, but he hadn’t possessed any of Zeus’s godlike presence. He’d been sleek and sexy, made up of hard wiry muscle and cold cruelty, but he could speak the sweetest, most believable words a young woman could ever hope to hear. When she had been younger and in need of safety and affection, Ernesto had provided it. For a while he had been a fantasy come true, until he became her worst nightmare.

The years had made her smarter. She might desire Zeus, she might even have sex with him, but when they had taken care of Kragen, he would be gone and she would have additional defensive skills to deal with Ernesto if he ever found her.

“You’re looking at me again.”

She jumped, blinked, forced her gaze from his lower body and back to his striking gray eyes.

“You were imagining having sex with me, weren’t you?”

“No.”

“Yes, you were. You don’t have to be ashamed. I think about fucking you every time I look at you. Every time I smell you.”

A sign flashed past, the reflective lettering snagging her attention. Sabrina sat up as they exited the freeway at San Pablo Dam Road.

“This is not the way to Oakland. Where are you taking me?” she asked, trying to stay calm. She had a bad feeling this wouldn’t end well for her. She looked at the vehicles around them, and Big Country’s van was nowhere to be seen.

“Detour. You need weapons to practice with. Maybe get you a boot knife and a dagger like mine. Something small and hard to recognize, like a punch blade maybe, and something to wear at your back and thigh.” His response was more like an external expression of his internal dialogue than a conversation with her.

“You’re kind of serious about this training thing,” she said, turning so her back, instead of her shoulder and temple, was flush up against the seat. They were heading up San Pablo Dam Road toward the reservoir, away from the downtown area.

“Before I leave, you’ll know how to cut to kill, how to incapacitate so you can run if you need to. No shame in running if you can’t win.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, a chill running through her. It was getting hard to imagine him not around. When he was near, he kept the cold away.

“I can’t see you running from a fight,” she said.

“And you won’t. I’m not some woman too ignorant to know the difference between the tip and the hilt of a blade.”

She knew the goddamn difference but hesitated to tell him so for fear of how he would react. She no longer had the rest of the Brood to step in if Zeus lost it, so she had to suppress the attitude just in case the big bastard didn’t respond to her words well.

“So, that your first lesson of blade defense?” she asked. Despite her best efforts, she could still hear a hint of sarcasm.

“No, my first lesson is hold on to your fucking blade. Second, don’t get stabbed with it. That could get you dead. And if you live…that will just leave you shamed and embarrassed. Hold on to your blade.”

She was tempted to remind him he hadn’t held on to his blade when he threw it into Juarez’s shoulder, but she knew he would spout some bullshit about being bigger and more skilled than her or doing it because he knew his opponent wouldn’t be able to come after him. Anyway, she knew how to defend herself, and his arrogance was rubbing her wrong.
Look at it this way: he’s going to teach you how to protect yourself better
. In this world a woman had to know how to protect herself if she didn’t want to wind up being someone’s victim…or dead.

They made their way to a house on the outskirts of El Sobrante that looked like something that could be found in a destitute town in the backwoods—a large farmhouse with a wraparound porch. The closer they got the more clearly she could see how dilapidated the wood was. Some planks curved up slightly instead of lying flat.

The yard was big but cluttered with broken toys—a rusty rocking horse with only flecks of red paint surviving the wear and tear of youth and exposure to the elements, an old swing set. A tire hung from a big tree whose leaves had already abandoned it for the weed-and-dirt-patched earth broken in many places by its thick, curved roots. There were smatterings of brown-yellow grass closer to the house, which suggested there was a time in the distant past when the yard had been lush and well cared for. Not like today. Luckily there was only one broken-down car parked in the yard. Not enough to mistake the place for an impound lot.

The house had probably been a bright yellow once, but currently it was a pale lifeless color dulled by time, dirt, and lack of care. She’d bet if someone gave it one good pressure wash, the water would strip not only dirt and layers of paint but would expose what was more than likely termite-infested wood beneath. All that said, she had lived in worse places and really didn’t have room to judge. It wasn’t all bad, anyway. The windows were clean, and the wispy curtains inside were a pristine cream lace. Actually, the incongruence made the place look even more derelict.

“Somebody lives here?” she asked as they got out of the car and walked closer to the porch.

Zeus’s footing was sure; he didn’t stumble over weeds, debris, or indentations in the earth like she did. “Dominic and his ex-wife K.C.”

“So, what? Neither of them wanted to leave the house due to its sentimental value?”

Zeus looked at the house, then back at her, his expression blank.

“Okay, I’m being bitchy, but really, what’s the story?”

He didn’t answer her, simply grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the side of the house, supporting her as they traversed more uneven ground. As they rounded the back of the house, she saw a second building. Zeus released her upper arm and walked ahead, banging on a large metal door three times when he reached the building.

The double metal doors were pulled open, and the man who stood in the opening was…huge. What. The. Hell.

“Zeus,” the man she assumed was Dominic said with a welcoming smile. “Unexpected surprise, but it’s good to see you, man.”

A small woman leaned around him. She barely reached his chest, but she wasn’t delicate in the least. She had thick wavy black hair pulled back in a green scrunchie, a lean, muscular frame with all its womanly curves, and large intelligent eyes. Sabrina would guess the woman was Pacific Islander, maybe Samoan or Fijian.

“Hey, man, K.C.,” Zeus said, greeting them both. “Dominic, I need some blades for my woman.”

Both Dominic and K.C. balked at the comment. Sabrina had to admit that it even took her off guard.

Zeus shook his head. “She’s temporary. But I’m gonna let her keep the blades.”

His callous words didn’t seem to decrease the interest in the couple’s eyes as they looked at her.

“Uh…come in,” Dominic said, taking a step back. “Come in.”

As she entered the building, Sabrina was struck by intense heat, followed by the realization that this was a blacksmith’s workshop. Unlike everything she had perceived about the place since pulling up the drive, the inside of the building was all well-kept order. On one wall an assortment of every bladed weapon you could imagine was displayed—axes, scythes, blades, swords, throwing stars… This had to be Zeus’s version of heaven.

Dominic held out his hand to her in greeting, and she took it until he quickly let it fall back to his side. She turned in time to see Zeus shaking his head. Apparently his no-touching order extended beyond the people within Mama’s House. She had no doubt that every person in the Brood was a killer skilled in offensive and defensive combat. With his size and apparent knowledge of blades she just knew Dominic could protect himself. Why they all just let Zeus have his way was a mystery to her.

Dominic was about seven feet, built like he was a mix of long-haired Viking bred with a polar bear. Where Zeus might look like a Greek god, Dominic looked like he might be a descendant of Thor. Arms and forearms were thick enough to pop your head from your neck if he squeezed you in a choke hold. With his sheer size and obvious knowledge of blades, one would think he would be less indulgent of Zeus’s demands.

She wasn’t going to stand by and allow Zeus to dictate other people’s behavior. She took a step forward, reached for the Dominic’s hand, and shook it. “Hello, Dominic. I’m Sabrina. Nice to meet you.”

His gaze locked on to their joined hands and darted toward Zeus before he turned a bemused eye back to her. “I haven’t crossed you, right? You’re not trying to get me killed, huh?”

Sabrina glared at Zeus. “No, Mr. Dominic, I’m not trying to get you killed. I just want to show Zeus that he can’t go around attempting to control other people, that it’s not okay to be as rude as he wants.” She turned back to Dominic. “There’s no good that can come from letting him believe he doesn’t have to abide within the rules of acceptable behavior. He already walks around acting like a god. People who allow him to have his way only encourage this behavior.”

Dominic relaxed as humor replaced worry. He shook her hand before folding his arms across his massive chest. “You really went and got yourself a woman, eh, Zeus?”

“I’m not his woman.”

“I’ll be keeping her awhile either way,” Zeus countered.

Sabrina shifted her gaze toward Dominic’s ex-wife. “I’m not his woman,” she repeated, hoping K.C. would show more understanding.

The other woman looked at her with an amusement as she stepped closer to Dominic and curved her arm around his waist. “Never in all the years that we’ve known Zeus has he ever brought a woman to meet us,” K.C. said, her voice the stuff of leather and smoke.

“It’s not as significant as you think. Zeus and I just met yesterday. He helped me out of a dangerous situation and feels obligated to teach me how to protect myself. He’s just getting me some knives,” she ended lamely.

The way K.C.’s arm went lax at her ex-husband’s side, the way her eyes widened, the way Dominic’s jaw fell open as if Sabrina had just spit a gold brick out her ass, made her wonder just how badly she had failed.

“What?” she asked, turning to look at Zeus.

He shrugged.

K.C., the first of the ex-husband–ex-wife duo to reanimate, stepped forward and hugged Sabrina like she was a long-lost relative. Oh, this was downright awkward. Sabrina felt like a hulking Amazon when held against the other woman.

“Hey, sister. I’m K.C., Dominic’s sometimes wife and all-times partner in crime.” She reached up and lightly touched the swelling and bruising on Sabrina’s face. “I’m relieved this wasn’t Zeus. For a minute I thought I’d have to send my brothers after him.”

“Decision would have made you an only child,” Zeus said.

“That’s why I’m relieved.” She smiled. “You get the guy?”

“It’ll get done.”

“Make it hurt,” K.C. said.

She looked so sweet. But the tattoo sleeves on both arms and across her chest should have warned Sabrina that that wasn’t the case. “Welcome to Heart of Steel, Sabrina. This is where we do the heavy lifting for our online business. Zeus is our silent-in-damn-near-every-way partner, while Dominic does the metalwork and I handle everything else.”

“Which translates to, you run the business,” Sabrina said.

“I
like
her, Zeus,” K.C. said as she locked her arm through Sabrina’s and guided her back toward the entrance. “Come on. Let me show you around the house while they talk bloodletting tools and techniques.”

Sabrina strained her neck looking back at Zeus in a silent plea for help. She didn’t want to go in the creepy house where some Leatherface mutation was sure to be lying in wait. Zeus—
the bastard
—nodded his consent. He’d kept her an arm’s length away from the Brood, the very people who had saved her from Kragen’s men, but he’d willingly let her be dragged into some dry-rotted doom of a house without blinking.

Sabrina faced forward, and with every step she took she knew it wasn’t a fear of some fictional movie character that made panic take root and grow. It was the fear of offending or, even worse, of hurting K.C. by saying or doing something that betrayed her dislike of the other woman’s home. She might not care about a lot of things, but she hated hurting people who were nothing but nice to her.

“So, of course, I’m about to get into your business,” K.C. said to Sabrina before lobbing her first volley. “You may not know this, but Zeus is not the ‘come to the rescue’ sort, which makes me wonder what made him want to help you. How did you guys meet?”

“In a knife fight.”

K.C. nodded and smiled. “Must have been love at first sight for him, then.”

“Not even close.”

“You’re right. For Zeus it was probably something like bloodlust at first sight.”

That definitely sounded more accurate.

“You’ve known each other a long time?” Sabrina asked. If K.C. could push up into her business, she most certainly had the right to do the same. Plus, the more they talked the slower they walked. Hopefully Zeus would call her back before she and K.C. reached the house’s back porch.

“I met Zeus not long after I started dating Dominic, about seven years ago. I have four older brothers, all only slightly smaller than Dom and way meaner, so I don’t flinch at much, but when I met Zeus…he scared the living shit out of me.”

“He does have a way about him.”

“I think it took him like a year to even speak to me. He would just…look. And he’d have some blade in his hand, twirling it about, watching me as if I was a moving target. Sometimes I thought he was imagining me strapped to a spinning wheel as he tossed blades at me while he was blindfolded.”