Charming (Exiled Book 3) Read online

  “Who said anything about dying?”

  She scowled. “Didn’t you say they’d be ‘dealt with’?”

  He stared at her for a few seconds noticing for the first time that her eyes were fascinating enough to enthrall if he stared too long. Up close he could make out the little gold, yellow, and brown flecks that formed a kaleidoscope of color around her pupil.

  “You must have come from a pretty rough place. Here ‘dealt with’ usually means having a talk. Not killing.”

  “Oh.”

  Charming’s alpha presence was even more powerful when he was just a few inches away. Her eyes came to rest on the long eyelashes shading his eyes, then moved down his straight nose, and stopped again at his lips, which were full and twitching at the corners like he knew she was cruising his features and was amused.

  “I left the apartment unlocked. You didn’t leave me a key.”

  “Not a problem. I never lock it. Don’t even have a key”

  “You don’t?”

  “No. There’s nothing to be afraid of. No one would dare enter a closed door without permission, especially not my door.” He could see by the look on her face that she wasn’t ready to accept that at face value. “But if it will make you feel safer I can get a lock installed and give you a key.”

  She nodded. “On my bedroom door, too. It doesn’t have to have a key. Just one of those things on the handle that you turn.”

  It was at that point Charming realized that Rosie hadn’t told Ana that he and a lot of other people she was sharing space with were hybrids. If she’d been told, she’d know how ludicrous it would be to expect a simple door lock to provide protection from someone as strong as he was. He didn’t think the time was right for that conversation and he knew it didn’t cost anything to let her have the illusion that a flimsy little lock would be a deterrent to a hybrid who wanted in. Those locks could barely give pause to human males, much less Exiled.

  “Okay.”

  Scar appeared in front of them and wordlessly set a steaming bowl of stew in front of Ana with a large spoon, a butter knife, a chunk of multigrain artisan bread, and a square container of butter. Ana thought perhaps it looked and smelled better than any meal she’d ever been close to before, including the steak in the hotel.

  Charming watched as she picked up the spoon.

  “Are you going to stare while I eat?” she said. While it wouldn’t normally bother her to be watched, she felt self-conscious eating with Charming looking on. As her anxiety about the situation was receding, she was becoming more and more aware of his sexually charged bigger-than-life presence and the electrical energy that seemed to collect around him.

  She had an image of a cartoon character with a rain cloud above his head that followed him wherever he went. Only Charming’s cloud wasn’t about bad luck. It was about power. Maybe he was Thor.

  His lips pulled into a smile as he noticed she’d started out staring then mentally taken flight into some sort of private fantasy. But that smile froze when the sounds of a bar skirmish broke out behind him. Ana’s attention was yanked back to reality when the enormous guy behind the bar roared loud enough to make the glasses and bottles rattle on the shelves behind him.

  Ana looked up just in time to see the bone-chilling sight of Scar’s fangs fully extended. Adrenaline kicked in so fast and powerfully that she could feel her accelerated heartbeat pounding in the inner part of her ears.

  “You are NOT tearing up my bar again you idiot fuckers!” he yelled just before he gracefully jumped over the bar from a flatfooted stand still.

  When Charming turned back to Ana, she wasn’t on the stool next to him. She was in the corner with her back to the wall, shaking, and trying to make herself as small as possible.

  Scar ousted the troublemakers, returned to his place behind the bar then followed Charming’s gaze to where Ana cowered, obviously scared to death.

  “Let me guess,” Scar said to Charming. “You didn’t tell her what we are.”

  Charming shook his head. “Guess it’s time to have that talk.”

  “I’d say so.” Scar shook his head before returning to the business of running a pub.

  Charming approached Ana slowly. When he neared, she held her hand out as if to ward him off.

  “Come on,” he said softly. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Come back to the bar. Finish your supper and I’ll tell you the story of what we are.” Her hand was still shaking and she didn’t look ready to comply. “Rosie wouldn’t leave you with me if it meant you’d be in danger.”

  He could see that Ana was thinking that over.

  She reasoned that Rosie had gone to some trouble to remove her from possible harm. “She knows?”

  He nodded. “Intimately. She lived with my family for a time and was planning to marry my oldest brother.”

  Ana slowly stood up straighter and looked at the hand Charming held out to her. When she declined to take his hand, he dropped it to his side and waited. He knew that frightened humans had to be treated like wild animals. Move slowly. Be calm and patient.

  Looking around she saw that everyone had resumed what they’d been doing before the incident. Drinking. Eating. Talking. Laughing.

  She took a deep breath, reclaimed her seat at the bar, and picked up the spoon. Being frightened out of years of her life didn’t mean she wasn’t still hungry. The stew was still warm and tasted heavenly. So heavenly that her eyes closed in overt appreciation of culinary ecstasy.

  When she plunged the spoon into the bowl for another bite, she said, “Talk.”

  And he did. He told her how the humans of his world of origin had created his kind as an experiment and then, realizing the potential danger, decided to end the research by killing them off. He told her about Kellareal, mentioned that he was a good friend of Rosie’s, and explained how he’d saved them and helped them build a settlement in the hills above the city.

  As she ate he continued the story of how they had, at Rosie’s suggestion, formed an alliance with the human population of Farsuitwail to obliterate the mutual threat of the Rautt and were still in the process of restoring life as it had been prior to that world’s own hybrid experiment gone bad.

  By the time Charming was finished narrating the background of Exiled and how they came to live in Farsuitwail, Ana was finished with her stew and slathering butter on bread.

  He waited for some reaction from her. Finally, she said, “This is good,” and held the bread out toward him. “Want some?”

  Charming smiled. “I ate already, but thank you.”

  She nodded. “So what all can you do? That’s different.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “No card tricks.” She rolled her eyes. “But in general, hybrids are stronger, faster. Smarter.”

  She rolled her eyes again. “All men think they’re smarter.” He laughed. “You do have bigger teeth and louder voices.”

  “Yeah. That, too.” With a wicked glint in his eye he added, “And you should probably add sexier to that list.”

  She thought she might have to agree with that last part. “Don’t forget lots of humility.”

  He smiled and took a swig of ale without looking away.

  “And hybrids don’t get mad and rip people’s heads off?”

  Charming made a conscious decision to lie. Of course Exiled had ripped heads off, but only in battle. Not in civilian life. Truthfully, Exiled loved peace and wanted nothing more than to preserve it. They’d had enough of war. Each and every one who’d sacrificed by serving or losing loved ones treasured the peace beyond all else.

  ”No.” He immediately felt guilty and decided to amend his answer so that it was mostly true. “We don’t just get mad and rip people’s heads off. We think it through first.” He laughed, hoping that she’d believe he was joking and let it go at that.

  Ana studied him while she continued eating bread. After a few minutes, she said, “You said Rosie was going to marry your brother?”

  “Yeah. I did
say that.” He looked away.

  “What happened?”

  “He died.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  Charming shrugged. Seeing that she’d finished off every bite of stew and bread, a portion fit for an adult male hybrid, he said, “You want more?”

  She looked at her bowl and seemed to be thinking about it. “I don’t want more stew. Do they have cookies here?”

  “Cookies?” Charming looked around the bar. “I honestly don’t know.” He motioned to Scar, who came over at the next opportunity. “Do you have cookies?”

  “Listen, Leader. Bloom didn’t come in tonight and I’ve got a full house. I don’t have time for jokes.”

  Charming turned back to Ana. “I guess that means no.”

  She nodded in agreement. “That was my take, too. I don’t want anything else, but I’ll tell you right now I think it’s a mistake not having cookies on hand.”

  Charming seemed amused. “I’m betting that’s the first time anybody’s asked Scar for cookies. So I can see why it would go to the bottom of his priority list.”

  “That’s probably just because he didn’t think of it.”

  As a small group of hybrids walked by, Ana stopped them. “Say, would you mind participating in a market survey?” They looked at Charming, who shrugged. “You’ve never been asked to answer survey questions before?” They all shook their heads. “Well, it’s your lucky day. This is a new experience for you then. So here’s the question. Do you think it would be a good idea for this place to offer cookies?”

  The hybrids looked at each other for a few seconds before one of them said, “I like a cookie now and then.” He smiled. “Okay, truthfully, I’ve never turned down a cookie.” The others nodded and murmured agreement. “I like the kind that have raisins and I like the kind that have nuts and I like the kind that have chunks of candy.” He smiled. “You have some cookies?” He looked over the top of Ana’s head with a hopeful expression.

  “No,” she said. “I’m really sorry to say that I don’t have some to offer today, but I know the owner. I’ll pass on your feedback and maybe next time there’ll be cookies. Be sure to ask.” She smiled.

  When the hybrids moved away grumbling because there were no cookies, Charming said, “You like to start trouble, don’t you?”

  “What do you mean? The big scary guy deserves to know if he’s missing out on a potentially hot selling item! Right?”

  Charming smiled. “Those people were perfectly content. Now they’re dissatisfied because they don’t have cookies. For that matter, you’ve got me thinking about raisins and nuts and chunks of candy happily embedded in warm gooey cookie.”

  “Happily embedded in warm gooey cookie? You made cookie poetry.”

  He chuckled. “It’s as you say. Who doesn’t like cookies? Come on. I know a place where we can get some. It’s a little bit of a walk, but it’s a nice night.”

  They had just reached the sidewalk when Charming was stopped by police.

  “Sorry, sir. We have a matter that needs your attention.”

  Charming let out a deep breath and turned to Ana. “Guess it’ll have to wait. You know how to get back to the apartment?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Don’t be afraid. No one will bother you.”

  Charming hadn’t returned when Ana went to bed and was gone when she woke the next morning, but there was a note with instructions on how to reach him and a sack of cookies that made her smile. She wasn’t used to small kindnesses or consideration, so small things meant a lot and made her think that perhaps she’d not only escaped an ugly death, but landed on her feet. Maybe in a place that was better than she’d ever dared to imagine. Street kids don’t get many breaks in life and no one was more aware of that fact of life.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Over the next couple of weeks Charming and Ana communicated mostly by leaving notes. She spent her days hanging out in the park watching people and was amazed at what could be learned just by observation. Though neither of them ever made plans to meet for dinner, Ana fell into the routine of showing up at A Far Scar around eight o’clock. Most nights Charming would slide onto the barstool next to her, steal something from her plate, order what she was having, and ask about her day.

  She felt like there was never anything worthwhile to report. When she asked about his days, he was evasive and said he’d much rather hear about a dog fight, or a spilled ice cream cone, or lovers who were so into each other they forgot to watch where they were going and tumbled into the fountain reservoir.

  One morning, instead of rising whenever she felt like it, Charming banged on her door. “Get up. Get dressed. And come out so we can talk,” he shouted.

  She searched her memory for something she might have done to endanger the serenity of her days and came up empty, but she pulled herself out of bed, stepped into clothes, and threw water in her face.

  While she was doing that, he started banging on the bathroom door. “Come on. I don’t have all day!”

  She stared at the door for a minute before stomping down the hall. He was waiting in the middle of the kitchen.

  “God,” she said. “Keep your pants on! What’s the freaking matter?”’

  “Don’t call me god. That’s weird even for you.” He motioned to a chair at the dinette. “Sit down.”

  He set a cup of tea and a scone in front of her along with butter, jam, and honey.

  “It’s time we find something useful for you to do.” He sat across from her and took a swig of tea from a mug.

  “Okaaay,” she said.

  She’d skipped past the suburban experience of being a petulant adolescent testing the emotional boundaries of parents who cared enough to set rules, but she’d seen enough TV to mimic the scenario.

  “What can you do?” he asked.

  His yellow-green eyes seemed intent on looking straight into her mind, as if he could extract information that was not forthcoming with extra sensory perception.

  Ana was trying to decide how to answer the question.

  What could she do?

  She could carry messages and keep quiet about what she saw, whatever that was. She had instincts good enough to detect potentially dangerous situations on the street and either avoid or diffuse. Usually.

  She could sleep with one eye open, figuratively of course. When survival depended on it, she could give a decent blowjob or a well-timed knee to the crotch. She had a vicelike grip that had been useful for crushing balls on more than one occasion. But after mentally reviewing her skill set, she didn’t come up with anything she thought Charming would care to hear about.

  “Nothing,” was what she finally chose for an answer.

  “Nothing,” he repeated.

  She nodded.

  “That’s impossible. There’s no such thing as an adult person who doesn’t know how to do something. What were you doing when Rosie brought you here?”

  “Running from people who wanted to torture and kill me.”

  After staring for a few seconds, he said, “Well, that’s a start,” slowly and painstakingly. “So you know how to run. What else?” She shrugged. “Do you know how to cook?”

  She barked out a laugh. “Cook?” She shook her head vigorously. “Nooooo. I do not know how to cook.”

  “Have you ever had a job?”

  “Not the traditional kind.”

  “What does that mean? Traditional.”

  “Legal.”

  “Well, what kind of illegal job did you have?” He was beginning to sound exasperated. Her level of discomfort was also escalating, keeping pace in direct proportion with his rising impatience.

  She stood up. “None of your business.”

  He stood up. “None of my business? Everything you do is my business. Unless you decide to contribute, every bite of food you eat is my food. Every sip of tea you take is my tea. Every breath you take while you sleep is on my pillow on my bed in my home because of my generosity is my air.”
r />   Ana felt a flush begin at her neck and creep upward. She didn’t have to look in a mirror to know she was beet red. She wished she could grab that beautiful tawny-colored hair that usually begged to be touched and yank on both sides of his head at once.

  Everything he said was true and she couldn’t argue with it. She also couldn’t manufacture skills she didn’t have.

  Ducking her head in embarrassment, she said, “I’ll get my stuff.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” he challenged taking a step forward.

  “Just what it sounds like.” She didn’t know where the bravado was coming from, but something about his tone and more aggressive body language rankled. She raised her chin. “I’m leaving!”

  The sound of his answering growl startled her and reminded her that he wasn’t fully human. “You are not leaving!”

  Instead of vocalizing her surprise, since that’s what she thought he wanted, she said, “I am! You can’t keep me here.”

  “I can and I will. I didn’t promise Rosie to look after you only so you could… what? Sleep in the park? Exiled wouldn’t bother you, but there’s no telling what the more unstable humans might do.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dealt with unstable humans and no place to live.”

  He pressed his mouth into a tight line. “Be that as it may, there won’t be a first time for that in Farsuitwail. You’re staying here and you’re going to find a way to contribute to the community.”

  When she laughed, he pulled his neck back and looked at her with confusion.

  “Community service?” she asked. “You’re sentencing me to community service?”

  “I’m not ‘sentencing’ you to anything. Being a productive member of society isn’t a punishment. It’s a privilege.”

  “Man, what movie did that come from?”

  “Maybe it’s in a movie because it’s true. Work needs people. It doesn’t get itself done. Coincidentally people need to work. It’s a perfect match.”

  “Okay. What do you suggest?”

  Charming held his hands out in front of him for a couple of seconds, then took in a deep breath. “Let’s just take a minute and calm down. We’ll sit and talk it out. Everything can be worked out when people keep talking with a willingness to compromise.”