Fatal Sight (Harbingers Of Death Book 2) by LeAnn Mason (universal ebook reader txt) 📗

holding out to see if there would be any other clues to help guide my blind ass to the booty.

Man, and a fine booty it is, too. I’d love to just take a nibble—

A kind of thumping swish sound led me to believe that Seke had moved onto the mat, closer to my static space.

I waited.

A quick brush flitted along my left side. Then, he flicked my braid. I sent a leg out to my rear, hoping I’d read the direction right and he’d move along the arc. The heavy, painful mass that collided with my outstretched limb and the subsequent and correlative swishing thump indicated Seke’s body had hit the mat almost flush with my right side.

I pounced.

Legs spread to hopefully land astride my downed foe, I reached into my pant leg to retrieve my handy-dandy switchblade from its handy-dandy hidey-hole. Bending my legs once my toes touched the mat, I sat, pushing the air out of Seke with a groaning huff.

I leaned forward, knife in hand, and aimed where I hoped would be considered a vital spot, but I didn’t press forward because, well, I didn’t really want to hurt the god.

A moment later, the shadows fled my vision like wraiths and shot back to the crannies of the large space, seeking their homes where the bright overhead lighting couldn’t penetrate.

“Well done,” Seke praised, pride shining from those mischievous eyes below me before that naughty glimmer peeked from somewhere deep within. His fingers skimmed along the top of my work-out pants, brushing over my tattoo.

According to Raven — and for once, I trusted her — the swirling lines my parents had inked on my skin were the runes for death and bind, overlaid. The design’s powers had stopped working a few months ago, which was when I first met Seke.

I squeaked when my ass was engulfed by two large, splayed hands, one on each globe. He offered no explanation, just continued to stare at me with that look, almost like he was daring me.

Never get attached to others.

He is your captain, Aria.

My father’s lesson and my own inner voice berated my weakening resolve.

“Fuck it.” I bent forward, moving my arms — and my sharp object — to the floor on either side of Seke’s black, lustrous mane, and pushed my lips to his.

2

There was definitely something brewing between the captain and the new recruit.

Ember’s jaw clenched while watching the two smiling secret smiles at each other as the group convened in the meeting room. They thought the smiles were secret anyway, but her bird side gave her sharp vision. Having lived hundreds of lives in hundreds of places and interacting with several lifetimes of people had refined her ability to read body language, too.

A creaking of the chair in which she swiveled back and forth reminded the phoenix to loosen the grip her digits had taken on the arms. Letting go, Ember blew out a cooling breath through her nose, though its temperature was hot enough to escape as steam. Shutting her eyes against the blatant courtship, she tried counting down from ten. She trusted her captain. She had to. Seke was older and wise beyond his extensive years. He’d been around since the origination of the Harbingers of Death. He knew how to keep his work and professional life separate.

So, why wasn’t he?

Starting at ten again, Ember tried to clear her mind. Meditation was important for a hothead. She thought of the remote island on which she’d spent a decade or so after her first rebirth, tempering her inner turmoil. It wasn’t exactly a place with which she associated good memories; she visited each time she lost someone in her life, their mortality expiring while hers regenerated. But it was a solitary, peaceful place, and it soothed her fiery soul.

Even still, when she opened her eyes again after hitting zero, the arms of the plush leather chair were charred with singed holes where her fingers had rested.

“Jessica, please. I’d like to begin the debriefing.”

Folding her hands in her lap innocently, Ember cast her round eyes about the circular table that had caused Aria to call this “The War Room” when she first saw it, assessing each of her teammates.

Seke seemed more tense than usual despite his softness toward Aria, his jaw tight and hazel eyes shifting around the room, pausing on each member just like Ember.

Raven was tipped back in her chair, one foot on the seat with her knee bent, boot pressing into the edge of the table; the other lanky limb extended over the armrest as she investigated the ends of her sleek ebony locks.

Cole sat quietly with eyes shut and chin dipped toward his chest, arms crossed. Most would think him asleep. But Ember noticed the details that gave him away, like the bunching of his bulbous shoulder muscles, the coiled nature of his body, ready to spring into action. Cole was alert. The burly hellhound was still, focused, ready to jump at the first command from their captain.

Jessica, in juxtaposition, was tugging at her bra, attempting to adjust the push-up for maximum cleavage, staring at the exposed tops of her plump tits with studious seriousness. A frown pulled at her red lips as if what she found there was displeasing.

Ember rolled her eyes and reached out a hand to slap at the siren’s shoulder.

She jerked her chin up, looked around, and shrugged. “Girl’s gotta look her best for the show.”

“Does appearance matter when you’ve got that alluring... perfume?” Aria asked, her question equal parts coy and curious.

Jessica beamed. “Look at you! Ya remembered. The old dog can be taught new tricks.” She winked.

“I’m not really the dog here.”

Cole gave a low growl in response to Aria’s retort without shifting from his faux-respite pose.

“Doubt she’d forget not to call it “body odor” again,” Raven commented with an amused snort. “You tossed her on her ass the last time.”

“Right before I kicked those long stems out from under her,” Aria argued,