To Trap A Temptress (Southern Sanctuary - Book 2) (2 page)

Chapter
Two

Drum
fought hard not to lift his head to taste the air and go on the hunt immediately. 
There was plenty of time he reminded himself, mentally sending soothing vibes
to the black mamba snake tattoo that graced his upper body.  But the snake
was too restless, he could feel its smooth scales shimmy across his upper back
and neck as it sought a better position on the canvas that was his body to
sight their prey. 

When
he had awoken over a hundred years ago, sun blessed by the Goddess Maat and
imbued with the strength of an elite warrior the snake had been imbedded in his
skin with scales as black as night, glistening with hints of silver and dark
blues as if the tattoo actually lived.  Over the years he had come to
accept its presence on his flesh as one more tool in his arsenal of identifying
and annihilating the magical bad guys.  He believed it was due to the
snake’s presence that he could taste smells on the air and track so
easily.  Most men listened to their gut for signs of imminent danger, Drum
listened to the snake.

The
tattoo for almost a century had remained virtually dormant on his skin until
five months ago when they had caught the vaguest whiff of an elusive scent at
the base in Washington DC.  Since then he’d had a hard time sleeping or
working.  The tattoo likewise suddenly restless, roaming his upper body in
a futile search for an answer to what plagued them. 

The
distraction could not have been timed more poorly.  All his focus should
have been on the mission to find Serena.  A friend and witch, Serena had
been working on their TV show - ‘Paranormal Exterminators’ - a smoke and
mirrors front to hide the real work they performed off camera of tracking down
the mystical bad guys and dealing with them.  Little had they known they
were harbouring one of the bad guys under their very own roof. The host of the
show Xander Marr had gone to the dark side, lured by the promise of riches if
he succeeded in waking his great, great - throw in a couple more greats -
Granddaddy Apep, the God of chaos and trouble. 

Part
of the ritual to bring Apep back to this plane involved the blood of a
witch.  Xander had secretly conspired with Apep’s three sons - his uncles,
several times removed - to kidnap Serena and use her in the ritual.  But
Serena hadn’t proven to be a docile prisoner.  In one of her many bids to
escape she’d managed to kill Bal, Apep’s eldest son. 

Swearing
eternal vengeance the two remaining brothers had secreted Serena away somewhere
in Texas… according to their source, Hadleigh, who Xander had erroneously
believed was a witch and presented to the brothers as a substitute for their
little ‘let’s wake up the God of chaos’ ritual. 

Long
story short, Xander Marr was catatonic in a loony bin, the remaining brothers
Sek and Mot were missing, Apep’s burial chamber was empty, his sarcophagus gone
and Hadleigh was now officially melded… mated... wed to Vaughn, his Captain and
friend.

With
Vaughn understandably distracted by his unofficial melding with Hadleigh that
had occurred four months prior just after he’d saved her from almost dying it had
been Drum’s responsibility as Second to step up and lead the search for Serena
and the chaos brothers, Sek and Mot, who had been known in the past to
masquerade as sheriff’s deputies.  Unfortunately Texas was a big state and
even with all Marcus’s high tech toys, hacker abilities and nerd contacts they
had still yet to identify where Serena was being held. 

Thankfully
they had lucked out when it came to replacing Xander as host of their reality
TV series, as a cover for all their off screen activities it was hard to
beat.  One of Hadleigh’s cousins, an actor, had eagerly volunteered and
Hadleigh, begrudgingly, as a favour to the team occasionally donned the black
uniform and cap to help provide on screen back up when she wasn’t hunting down
any potential threats looming against her family. 

Still
all the new responsibilities, lack of sleep and that darn elusive scent that
haunted his dreams had made Drum a little short tempered of late.  It was
all he could do not to break Flynn’s scrawny neck when his comrade elbowed him
in the ribs.

“You
okay there big guy?  It’s a party remember, try to lighten up.”

At
seven feet tall Drum had a couple of inches on Flynn, and with his massive
shoulders and chest he was quite possibly double the man’s width.  Still
that didn’t stop him from elbowing Flynn back in kind.  Smiling slightly
as he watched Flynn wince and rub his ribcage.

“Ahh
now you’re smiling, that’s the ticket.”  Flynn continued on
blithely.  “Of course it’s kind of an evil smile.  Try not to scare
the women and children would you.”

Drum
surveyed the two hundred and fifty odd party guests and shrugged.  “I
think it would take a lot more than one of my smiles to scare this lot.”

Flynn
bobbed his head in time to the music and grinned.  “I know it’s so cool isn’t
it, to have this many magic types in one place.”

“I
thought you’d be out there dancing already.”  Drum eyed tawny haired Flynn
with suspicion.

“Nah
I’m good.”

“And
what’s up with Dash?  Does he seriously think he can use me as some kind
of shield?”  Drum reached back and grabbed Flynn’s twin brother Dash by
the earlobe dragging him out into the open. 

The
twins were all but identical except for the colour of their eyes, a slight
difference in the shading of their tawny hair and whilst Flynn had a dimple on
the right cheek, Dash had one on the left.

“Hey.”
Dash struggled, managing to free himself from Drum’s grip.

“What’s
up with you two?  You’re acting weird… well weirder than normal.”

“We’re
being…”  Dash mumbled the rest of his sentence staring hard at his boots.

“You’re
what?”  Drum scowled.  “It sounded like you said the two of you were
being stalked.”  Absently he scoped the nearby crowd milling around the
edge of the dance floor to identify the threat. 

“Don’t!” 
Flynn gripped Drum’s arm, his voice urgent and low.  “Don’t be so bloody
obvious.”

Dash
sent him a matching glare.  “Covert dude!  Ever heard the word?”

“Okay
I’m not sure if it’s the time difference or all this sea air but the whole team
is acting out of whack.  Marcus is quarrelling with the pregnant chick,
Rafe just went AWOL, Nate is on the dance floor with an expression on his face
that he usually reserves for funerals and now you guys are saying you’re being
stalked?  The only potential threat I see for you two are the little
blonde things over there smiling this way.”

“So
you admit they are smiling at us?”  Dash demanded between gritted teeth.

“It’s
not just our imagination right?”  Flynn followed up.

Drum
flexed his neck and took another discreet look.  “Those two itty-bitty girls
have you two acting crazy?  Why they seem real sweet.”

Flynn
shook his head in bemusement at his tall comrade.  “The emphasis needs to
be on the word ‘girls’ dude!  My favourite pair of shit kicker boots are
older than the two of those girls combined.”

Drum
shrugged his massive shoulders.  “So they have a little crush.  I
don’t see the problem, they’re just looking this way, smiling, they seem
harmless.”

Dash
rolled his gold edged hazel eyes.  “Harmless he says.”

Flynn
snorted in derision, backing up his twin brother’s disgust.  “Are you
insane?”

Dash
picked up the conversational thread.  “If two teenage girls started
smiling your way and batting their eyelashes at a party chock of block with
male relatives, half of whom have enforcement training…”

Flynn
butted in.  “The other half of whom probably have some kind of death ray
power, then wouldn’t you be ducking…”

“Diving
and weaving for cover?”  Finished Dash.

“Well…” 
Drum was starting to come around to the twin’s point of view.

“They’re
on the move.”  Flynn his green edged hazel eyes narrowed with tension
grabbed his brother by the arm to get his attention.

“Maat
we should go.”  Dash’s face was pale and tense.

“Agreed.” 
Flynn returned looking just as worried.

The
two melted away into the crowd before Drum could ask if they required
backup.  Should he go after them?  Not according to the tattoo he
shouldn’t as its tail squeezed his bicep signalling for attention. 
Instantly he lifted his head tasting the air, his head swimming for just a
moment with the intensity of her scent.  With the practised eyes of a
predator he swung his head zeroing in on his target, or rather she was zeroing
in on him. 

The
dance floor crowd shifted and she was standing directly in front of him, eyes
flashing a dark blue that stared up at him with a direct challenge.  The
only word to describe her was elegant.  She was slim but still had some
curves, her nose was small and narrow complimenting her high cheekbones and
delicate triangular face.  She had a cupid bow mouth but the lower lip was
so full that it caught and held his attention with the promise of what that
mouth might be capable of.  Her hair was pulled back in some intricate
twist arrangement and it was all he could do not to reach out to set free all
those honey blonde locks.  Best of all he liked what she was wearing, the
tight knee length dark grey skirt and filmy silk light grey blouse concealed
more than revealed yet for some reason the skin that did peek through was all
the more alluring.  It was all he could do not to stare at the creamy
expanse exposed at the base of her throat where a pulse point throbbed.

“Dance
with me.”  Her voice low, it wasn’t a request it was a command. 

Drum
froze as her scent wrapped around him and his cock jerked to attention, Maat
this woman was potent.  Hesitating only because the last thing he wanted
to do with her was dance he was privileged to witness her eyes sparking to an
even deeper blue. 

A
fine honey brown eyebrow arched upwards in an imperious query. 
“Well?”  Delicate hands rested on slim hips as she contemplated him, her
right high heel tapping out an impatient rhythm.  

Not
trusting himself to speak just yet he stepped forward claiming her right hand
to lead her back out on to the dance floor.  Turning to face her he ignored
the beat of the current song playing, pulling her in close, his arm wrapped
around her waist, his skin prickling with heat in the knowledge that only her
thin silky blouse separated her bare skin from his touch.

Nell
stared up at him now frowning; his hold on her was so tight she was forced to
arch her shoulders back to get a better view of his face. Thankfully she wore
ridiculously high heels so she didn’t have that far to look.  “Let’s get
something straight up front.”  Her voice was low, serious and slightly
husky. 

His
cock jerked again.
 
Maat protect him if
she ever said his name in that tone, he’d come in his pants.

“I’m
not looking to be your friend, confidant or listening post.  No I won’t
introduce you to my sister, any of my cousins or my friends.  I’m not a
shoulder to cry on.  Nor do I want to hear about your girlfriend problems
and give you a female perspective on how to solve your relationship
issues.  No I won’t lend you money, my car or give you free medical
advice.  Are we clear?” 

Nell
managed to meet and hold his liquid ink black gaze even while her insides
quailed and quaked.  Nothing about this man, this warrior was
subtle.  Even the set of his granite like jaw, high sharp cheekbones and
the way that brutally short black pelt of hair clung to his skull screamed
danger and menace. What in the Goddess’s name had she been thinking?  This
man could snap her like a twig if she so much as breathed wrong and here she
was issuing demands.  More surprisingly still the behemoth nodded. 

Schooling
her features in to blank haughty doctor mode she allowed her gaze to drop and
focus on his massive chest, anything was better than those keen dark eyes that
seemed to look not just at her but through her.  Of course now she was
faced with a new dilemma, literally being inches away from all that rock solid
coffee coloured muscle that his black shirt hardly seemed able to
contain.  There was so much of him it wasn’t like she could look anywhere
else. 

Really
what had she been thinking?   As soon as she’d laid eyes on him she
knew he was exactly what she needed, everything about him screamed danger and
the promise of pain and retribution if you crossed him.  A good girl would
never approach a man like this, demand he dance with them and then proceed to
plaster herself against him out on the dance floor.  Not that she had much
say in the last matter as his arm was locked vice tight around her waist
holding her close. 

She
should be feeling triumphant, phase one of her plan had commenced, except all
her instincts were screaming that this was just plain wrong.  Deadly men
like this warrior who made a living killing things and dispensing justice ate
little girls like her for breakfast.  The very thought bought goose bumps
pebbling across her flesh, a slight gasp rising to her lips. 

Head
shooting up she met his gaze. “What was that?”