Page 26 of Awaken the Dragon
“Be well, my darling. I am here now.”
If she lived to be one hundred, Shola would never forget that voice. It was the voice that had unveiled her fate. Raspy and low as he leaned in and whispered against her ear, “It is such a pleasure to see you again, Shola. I’ve looked forward to the moment that we would be alone.”
His face pressed sickly against her ear as he inhaled deeply, smelling her hair or maybe just her. His other hand came to rest on her other shoulder and she was encased by a chilling power.
“Hello, Warrick.” Her voice came in gasps. “I am looking forward to tonight.”
“I’m looking forward to our future together,” he replied.
His breath was a lukewarm brush against her skin that, instead of comforting, or even arousing, made her stomach churn, and she swallowed the urge to gag. With her fingers squeezing her purse tightly, she turned slowly so they were now facing each other.
Warrick Camden was an alluring man. His angular face was very attractive with a root beer complexion, neatly shaved black with a heavy dose of gray goatee, and soulless brown eyes.
“The future.” She paused as she stared back at him. “Can be so hard to predict.”
Warrick didn’t even blink, but the ends of his mouth lifted in a slow smile. There was no joy in that smile, no laughter in his gaze, both reasons to make her job easier. He was a threat to her people, and that was all that mattered to her.
“Yet ours has been so carefully planned.” He cupped her cheek with his hand.
He was correct. This union between her world and his had been planned long before her birth. While her father thought he was simply repaying a debt, and thus keeping any retribution from settling over their people, Shola knew more. The kidnapping of her culture would follow the moment she said “I do” to Warrick. As a result of some insane feud that ended with a curse upon the Mobo village, the people of the River Tribe would fall under Warrick’s rule when he married one of their own. Shola had been chosen to marry him and taught how to kill him.
Her fingers moved over the snap of her purse and she dug her hand inside. Something skittered along her skin, like a heavy brush of a warm wet cloth. It was the power of the Orisha. She had only felt it this strong one other time before.
“I’m coming to you now to let you know that I’ll not be with you tonight. Something has come up, and it requires my immediate attention. But a wondrous night has been planned for your enjoyment.”
She heard his words but gave no cares to what he was saying.
“I do not need wonder,” she quipped.
She had been watching him as he spoke. Nothing he said or did gave away any ill will toward her or her people, yet she’d been taught that he was the leader of their demise. And she didn’t doubt her teacher. She was holding her purse in front of her, one hand slipping inside to rip away the paper that covered the box.
“I know exactly what you need, my sweet. And I will give it to you.”
His voice was so smooth, his words so caressing. Any other woman, at any other time, would easily fall for him. Especially when he lifted another hand to frame her face and leaned in closer.
“My desire for you is strong,” he whispered. “I hadn’t thought it would be this way. But it’s a happy surprise. Together, Shola, you and I will be invincible.”
The hell they would. She tore the paper off the box at the exact moment his lips touched hers. The sound was muted by her surprised gasp when his cool lips met her startled ones. He pressed his body into hers, and she instinctively moved her hands with the purse up in the hope that he would not feel the box inside. It pressed into her ribs, while the unmistakable feel of his arousal moved against the lower part of her stomach.
He smelled like too much musk cologne, a potent scent that filled her head with cloudiness and made her so lightheaded she leaned into him for support.
Then he began speaking in a language she didn’t understand. By the rhythmic cadence, she knew it was a chant. His tongue pressed against her closed lips and the scent grew stronger. She shivered as the feeling of growing power fought to overrule whatever else was happening while she ran her blunt-tipped nails over the wooden box. Feeling as if she might faint at any moment, she parted her lips to suck in a breath and his tongue eagerly slipped inside.
With hasty fingers she flipped the lid off the box as the words she was required to say began to form in her mind. The death spell had not been taught to her. She’d only been told that when the time was right she would know what to say and what to do. The river stones would combine sufficient power to bring the final blow.
Wings. Prey. Divine ordination. Destiny fulfilled.
The words bobbed around in the fog of her mind without making any sense, so they couldn’t be right. She remained still, not accepting or denying Warrick’s kiss. The rigid length of his dick was still pressed persistently against her, and she tried not to cringe while moving her fingers over the smooth surface of the rocks, waiting for more words.
Prey. Hunter. Ruler. Wings. Fire.
No, that didn’t sound correct either.
She pulled out of his grasp, still clenching her purse as she stared at him. With the break in their physical connection the fog in her mind receded.
“You are not my husband yet.” She choked out the words.
Warrick grinned. “But I will be soon.” He extended an arm and checked the big gold watch at his wrist. “I must leave you now. But don’t fret. No harm will come to you before our wedding. I’ll see to that.”
