Dark Rising - Miya Chanda (best motivational books TXT) 📗

Chapter 1

Kansas City, Missouri. Not a massive metropolis like New York or Paris, but one showing a certain potential to be just as… grand. Grand that is, for being split between two states by one street named Stateline. I’m sure it had its other “advantages,” but flying by jet from the Coven of Alaska to the downtown airport was not one of them.

The men and I had arrived about an hour ago. Naurius and Caleb rented an SUV and after we loaded our bags, we navigated our way to the Marriot hotel where our client, Alex, had arranged to meet.

“Can I get you something to drink, sir?”

I glanced up, to the man gliding a wet -and slightly musty- cloth across the thick amber coated counter. He stopped, his grey eyes gapping wide at the scar I carried on the left side of my face. You think he would have noticed it when I’d first arrived, but there must have been a shift change. This bartender seemed older than the man who had been there a moment ago.

His puzzled expression –the one I’ve seen time again- ensured me he wondered how I’d gotten such a mark. Maybe he thought is was due to a dangerous job I had. Which was partially true. Then again, maybe he thought I’d been the victim of a horrific cougar or bear attack. I wasn’t about to volunteer the information so I continued to let him ponder.

He finally realized he was staring and shifted uncomfortably before resting his weight on the rim of the bar with both hands, giving me a fake semi-encouraging smile, which suggested either order something or find another seat. Having been sitting there for a while without ordering, I guess I couldn’t blame him. But I also couldn’t’ help but wonder whether he wanted me out of the seat to give people who actually wanted to order a place to sit or because he was afraid I would scare off his potential customers. My cynical side decided if it was the latter. But I wasn’t going to move.

Alex had left a paper note with instruction at the lobby desk to meet with him in the hotel lounge at 9:30 p.m. I noted the time on the wall above the Bar. It was well past 9:30 p.m. going on 10:15. The bastard didn’t even have decency to call and say he was running late.

The bartender cleared his throat, catching my attention as he raised his brows with impatience. “Anything?”

My eyes reluctantly wondered the top shelf behind him, and skimmed downward, knowing they wouldn’t have my favorite. Hot blood with Ambrosia mixed with a hint of mint was more than just a rarity. It would latch on close to insanity in a mortal’s eye.

I let out an agitated breath, an irritation, not just towards the bartender but also to that steady hum that had been building on my nerves for months now. My inner panther didn’t take well to the annoyance bubbling beneath the surface either and his pacing didn’t much help. It kept me on the edge, just enough to give me a nasty attitude when I didn’t need one.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Just…a double whiskey is fine.”

“Make that two.” A warm feminine voice added from behind me. I naturally turned towards the owner. “Sorry I’m late.” She added.
Was she talking to me? I tried to resist the urge to look over my shoulder but it was useless and I quickly took note of the people sitting closest to us.

There weren’t many people in the lounge. A couple set on a sofa quietly chatting amongst themselves and a two men at the other end of the bar, -confirming my earlier theory that the bartender did in fact want me to leave- but none of them close enough to be actively engaged in her greeting.

I shifted my attention back to the mystery women. I didn’t recognize who she was, but her warm smile suggested otherwise.
It was hard not to stare. I mean, she was a beauty but a different kind of beauty than I was used to. Her skin was pale ivory, that the red lipstick she wore averted my attention to the lovely swell of her mouth. Her narrow nose swooped down elegantly, complimenting her high cheekbones. The edges of her ebony bob kissed her long neck as she shimmied out of her long black coat revealing a red fitted sweater with black slacks and red shinny heels. She slid her rear onto the stool next to me with such grace, for a moment I thought she might be Valarian.

The bartender set two glasses in front of us and poured whiskey half way into each, his eyes shifting warily between the two of us.
What the hell was his problem?

A rosy floral scent wafted the air with an alluring charm, waning my frustrations at the bartender. Her gaze pinned me, and the slight smile brought one sharp edge of her mouth up, sexy as hell. I was about to ask if we knew each other when she said--.

“My name is Alex.” She held out one slim, well-manicured hand, nails polished red.

I blinked. Alex…was a woman. No problem, I knew the name Alex was unisex, but I had all but prepared myself to meet with a, Her.
She must have sensed my small amount of shock because she cocked her head to the side, amusement flickering in her frosty grey eyes. “You must have been expecting a man.”

I took my hand into hers and gave a quick firm handshake. “I wasn’t expecting you.” I simply said.

“I must admit, I wasn’t exactly specific when I left the note at the front lobby over the phone. My full name is Alexandria Daphne, but most people call me Alex.” She reached for a napkin off the small pile lying on the counter, then nodded to the bartender. I must have missed their quiet exchange, because when I looked towards his direction he had disappeared around a corner. I turned back to Alex, who’d folded the napkin in half and pressed her lips against its crease, leaving an imprint of her red lipstick behind. She placed the napkin back on the counter next to her drink.

“And you must be Kayden Shyam-Raj, Pure breed Valarian from the Coven of Alaska. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

If I had wanted the world to know my business I had met the right woman to do it, her voice seemed to carry over the jazz music playing in the background from the stereo’s imbedded in the walls. And my eyes couldn’t help but shift cautiously around to see if any of the mortals had overheard.

She leaned in closer, placing her hand gently on my thigh under the counter and I glanced down but didn’t move it.

“Forgive me, sometimes I forget to lower my voice at the right time.” She purred. “But I don’t think anyone here is worried about our business.”

A slight tug pulled at one corner of my mouth, a smile trying to form for some reason. But I fought it, raised my brows and pinned her with a condemning stare instead. “You’re late.”

She laughed and smiled wide, flashing a mouth full of pearls as she leaned back moving her hand away.

Her amusement irritated me, but she was damn beautiful when she did it. And all I could do was to sit there and stare at her for the rest of the evening. Watching the dim light catch those frosted eyes.

“And you’re bold,” she leveled. “I’m the one who’s paying your team, remember? I can afford to be…fashionably late.”

I made a slight snort, but she had a point, and I couldn’t argue with it. She was compensating my men substantially, more than she had to, and I winced inwardly for even bringing it up.

“No worries. I’ll let it slide and you can make it up to me later.” She gave me another sensual grin and the smile I’d been trying to hold back, finally broke through. Her eyes noticeable dropped down to my mouth, heating them with a sheer look and slowly blazed a trail back up the left side of my face. She eyed my scar, just as the bartender had but there was no look of disgust on her face, in fact as our vision met again she seemed rather…interested.

“Your scar give you character.” She said “Like a warrior from battle. It’s, becoming.”

As much as the comment flattered me, my self-hatred wouldn’t allow me completely feel the pride of what she was saying. I knew how
I’d gotten the scar, and it wasn’t from being a warrior.

There was an assertive strength I liked about her. The way she carried herself, the bright colored clothing she dared to wear which suggested she was just as bold and most likely as aggressive as me. My type certainly revolves around strong, independent women with experience. A woman who can give me a good fight, the cold shoulder and a rough round of makeup sex afterwards. Yes, I have issues.

My eyes drifted down to her sweater. Red wasn’t just the color for passion, it was a color of rebellion, and my mind couldn’t help but wonder if she wore a red bra underneath.

Alex straightened, naturally pushing out her chest and crossed her legs under the counter. She must have seen me gapping.

“I hope your flight was pleasant.” She said.

So, she was going to pretend she hadn’t noticed me and I could play along. “It was well.” I nodded. “We didn’t have problems finding the hotel but we won’t be staying here.” I continued. “Naurius, one of my men, has an condo near the Plaza which will allow us more privacy and mobility if need be.”

Better than being stuck on the sixth floor of a busy hotel. At least they would have some space for error if something unexpected happened. Better prepared than sorry.

She made a short “mm” sound of acknowledgment as she reached for her glass of whiskey, bringing the rim to her lips. It was hard to read what she might have been thinking with “mm”.

She glided her tongue over her bottom lip as she finished and I hardened, my imagination playing images of other ways she could use her mouth.

“It’s a shame you won’t stay.” She said placing the glass down, using her other hand to fiddle with her earing.

Was this her way of coming on to me? I wasn’t sure, but she affected me. She had been flirting with me earlier and I’d given a few flirtatious smiles in return, but now it seemed like she was just teasing me. She knew I was watching.

The irritation came creeping back and it was only when my inner panther stood up and started pacing again, I realized he’d been settled for a while. And that agitated me even more.

Anyways what did it matter? The whole reason why they were meeting was so she could give me the assignment. She was a paying client and I was