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Authors: Lola Dodge

Ivory (Manhatten ten) (4 page)

BOOK: Ivory (Manhatten ten)
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“What blip?”

“The authorities think you’re working with us. As long as you are, we can keep you out of their hands. If you’re not…”

So much for not keeping me against my will. The frost bunched in my palms. “What do you expect me to do?”

“A simple press event—” Tank began.

“You’re not really selling it, Boss. It’s a party. Meet the rest of the team, wave to the press. Free drinks. Hors d’oeuvres.”

I wasn’t sure which part of it made me more furious. I settled with the obvious. “You’re going to have a party while you have a murderer running free?”

“A press event,” Tank said.

“And I’m to lie and say I’m joining your crime-fighting squad?”

“For your own protection, yes.”

Some party.

Before my huntress jumped the desk and speared him, I stood. Tank was right that I couldn’t go back to my regular life, but he didn’t have to spin me around under the guise of keeping me protected. I would’ve told him what I thought, but he already knew.

“I’ll go, but I’m not staying.”

Panther grinned, Tank nodded. Icicle-finger-tipped, I stormed from the room.

No matter what, I wouldn’t be caged.

 

Panther

“Amazing energy.” I stretched out in my chair after Valdís left in a cloud of frigid, furious mist. The cashmere hugged her Amazonian curves, and those bare toes of hers were dead sexy. When she was that angry, her killer aura took over the room. She kept it controlled but she was a claw’s breadth from snapping, and I wanted to see what would happen when she did.

“You can’t imagine.” Tank finally relaxed. “That’s one powerful, deeply disturbed woman.”

“What did you see?”

“Felt, mostly. She’s so cold inside she burns.”

I straightened in my chair. “Are you interested?”
 

“No.” Tank shook his head. “You shouldn’t be either, but it’s late for that.”

With that mind-blowing body and killer personality, Ivory was worth a crush. And wasn’t the name perfect for her?

“Is that what it is?” Tank tilted his head.

Hate it when you soul-search, Boss.

“Sorry. But be honest. You shouldn’t get involved with her, especially if she’s going to work with us. She has deep family issues.”

That I could relate to. I’d admit I was paying more attention to her than I had to any other woman I could remember, but it was rare to find such a fine slice of Eskimo pie. Of course I appreciated it. That was all.

“If you say so.” Tank shook his head. “Just don’t let her stab—shit.”

“What?” I tensed.

Tank palmed his face. “I’ve got terrorists and murder plots to wrangle. You brought her here, you deal with it. Hallway.”

More curious than worried, I followed the sounds of chaos.

Angel had Cyclone by the arm, and he was trying to struggle away, though not hard enough he’d hurt her. His hand was a solid cube of ice. “I offered a friendly handshake—”

“You were being a perv, Cyc.” Angel pushed him toward the elevator. “Go to medical and get melted.”

“But she—”

“Go.” Angel was so sweet she could’ve been a cupcake, but you didn’t argue with her. She ran everything, and she would make your life hell if you got on her bad side.
 

Cyclone sulked into the elevator.

“What did he do?”

“Lame pick-up line.” Angel rolled her eyes. “I think she would have let it slide, but then he started showing off his powers. I would’ve done the same under the circumstances.”

“Where’d she go?”
 

“To her room. I’d go check, but we’re slammed today…what?”

“I suppose I could go make sure she wasn’t bothered.” Cyc couldn’t touch her, but I wanted to make sure she didn’t feel too betrayed by the press party. It was a necessary evil. And I happened to have glimpsed her floor number.

“Just don’t upset her anymore. I need to get one woman on this squad of beast men.”

“Don’t worry. I’m recruiting heavily.” I shot her a wink.


Ay,
Dios mío
.” She walked away, wiping her hands of me, though she’d have something to say if I screwed this up.

I was grasping for reasons to see Ivory, considering how pissed she was, but that cold fire of hers was too compelling. I wanted to touch it and see if it really did burn.

Maybe she’d snap, but I wouldn’t mind seeing the warrior woman again. Ivory was way too uptight.

A peace offering might ease my way. I headed for the kitchen.

Chapter Four

Ivory

All of them were crazy. Ice crusted my fingers. If Angel hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve frozen that
drittsekk
Cyclone into a full cube.

I wanted to run, but instead I escaped to the roof. Two things kept me from disappearing and I wasn’t sure which was the stronger bond. I’d told Tank I’d attend his pony show and I didn’t break my word. Except this time, I might’ve if not for the news vans.

Half a dozen reporters with cameramen waited outside the building. More casual-looking paparazzi milled around the lines of fans with posters and M-10 T-shirts.

Perhaps some of them were there for me, but it seemed like a permanent station. As if the M-10 were always in the news.

If I walked out, they’d follow me. And where would I go? The media had me, and who was to say there wasn’t a similar fleet of news vans waiting on my stoop?

Sacrificing my present was one thing. The media would never find the way into my past, but with my picture plastered everywhere, my past could always find its way to me.

My family had never had television or electricity, and wandering the northern wastes didn’t put them near very many towns, but there was always a chance…

Channeling my anger and fear, I let the emotions pool in my hands. I drew out the ice spear in one moment, as fast, as aggressive as I ever had on the hunt.

With a soul-deep scream, using every muscle I had, I hurled the spear at a wall. A spectacular crash sounded as the ice dusted against concrete. The shards’ vibrations tickled my toes.
 

I felt slightly better, but every use of my power was a delicate dance. Using a little took the edge off but tempted me to use more.
 

Instead of giving in, I climbed on top of the waist-high safety barrier and perched for some moments, looking over the city as I searched for inner balance. Up so high, the sounds faded. When I closed my eyes the only noise was the wind whipping between skyscrapers. The air tasted of gasoline and donut shops and of the millions of people that swarmed the city. I wouldn’t mind being in New York if I could take to the streets and experience it, but when I did open my eyes, the crowds below were pointing and the cameras trained my way.

I fled before they could summon a news copter.

Inside was stuffy in comparison, but I felt a bit more in control when I punched the button for the sixteenth floor.

The door pinged open and the calm shattered.

Panther sprawled on the living room sofa with the remote. Food smells wafted from the kitchen, and the TV blared its recently live coverage of me on the edge of the building.

“Find your center?” Panther rolled onto his belly, fixing me with a stare.

“I thought my privacy would be respected.” My hard-earned peace was already frayed. I shouldn’t have left my room, but I’d have gone crazy if I was trapped inside.

“It is.” He rolled all the way up, flexing his muscles like a cat. “I brought you lunch as an apology for Cyclone.”

“I don’t accept secondhand apologies.” Cyclone owed me one himself.

“Then I’m sorry for getting you tangled in this.” He clicked the TV off. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

It was harder to throw him out when he was playing polite, and whatever he’d popped in the oven smelled delicious. “Very well.”

“You won’t be disappointed.”
 

As he moved about the kitchen, I perched on one of the barstools. Who would have guessed Panther could cook? Watching him move was another type of buffet. His deadly grace captivated my gaze. My tribesmen could be physically imposing, but Panther was a mountain of honed and toned muscle. He was like no man I’d ever met.

Donning a pair of oven mitts that barely squeezed over his hands, Panther removed a tray of french fries from the oven. “Rosemary.” He shook them into the waiting bowl. “And for any other woman, I’d work my grill mojo, but for you…” He uncovered a tray I hadn’t seen. “Steak tartare.”

A raw egg yolk garnished each circle of chopped pink meat. My mouth watered. There were so few socially acceptable ways to eat uncooked beef…it was a risk for Panther, serving such a thing to someone he didn’t know.

But maybe he knew me better than I wanted.

“Pegged you for a carnivore.” His panther-eyes glowed yellow. “Plus some grease for the beast.” He popped a fry into his mouth.

I might’ve feigned distaste, but the meal looked too delicious. Instead, I took the offered plate. “Thank you.”

Panther took the next barstool and we both dug in. Fresh herbs seasoned the meat and I closed my eyes to savor the taste, but Panther didn’t mean to let me enjoy myself in silence.

“What’s with all the self-denial? You need to let loose.”

“Excuse me?” He didn’t know me
that
well.

He swirled a fry in ketchup and fixed me with a warm smile. The expression was much too intimate. “Unwind. You should let the badass warrior woman out more often. She’s hot.”

“I like control.” Though at the moment, I was trying my best not to bend my fork in half. “Letting loose is the last thing I need to do. Not that it’s your concern.”

“But I want it to be.” Panther stretched out, giving me the full view of his long frame. Half-invitation and half-challenge, his heated look hit all my buttons.
 

Including the danger button. The frigid haze that signaled my descent into warrior mode hovered at the edge of my vision.
 

He was too much. “You obviously have no problem letting your beast out.”

“I
am
the beast.” He flashed his claws, not to threaten, but to display. “We’re one and the same. Isn’t that how it is for you, Ice Princess? You can’t suppress that part of yourself forever.”

“That’s not how it works.” He was a panther man, part animal to begin with. I was from an ice tribe. Maybe I was no less wild, but outside of the tundra, I could play human.

“If you say so.” Panther took another bite of the tartare, flashing pointed canines. “Need a hairdryer?”

“What?”

“To thaw out.”

I didn’t even need to look. The ice had spilled out of my palms. It gave me icicle fingernails and frosted the countertop in white.

So much for control.

I drew the cold inward until the counter was clean and none of the evidence of my latest slip-up remained. “You can see yourself out.”

I left the dishes and once again retreated from Panther, this time to the relative safety of my borrowed bedroom. He was under my skin, and I didn’t trust myself with all of his needling.

What did he want from me?

The warrior in me bubbled much too close to the surface. Panther would be in for a spear to the belly if he didn’t pull back. Then he’d see why “letting loose” wasn’t a good idea.

I folded my legs, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Meditation. My center was somewhere and I’d find it yet. Picturing the vast white Arctic, I sought calm.

Every time I came close, that pointed, panther smile intruded on my inner ice field. His heated predator’s gaze dared me.

To do what, I wasn’t sure.

The moment I gave in to any of the huntress’s urges was the moment I had to crawl home to my execution. I’d be a danger to every human around me, and assuming I could still remember that was bad, I could kill myself or let my mother do the job.

I’d kept the huntress clamped down for years, but Panther was too much temptation on too many levels. I could lose myself to a man like that.

 

 

Panther was gone and the kitchen was empty the next time I dared peek outside. Much longer in the heroes’ tower and I’d be timid as a vole.

An assortment of gowns spread over the sofa back. Most were sleek and shiny in pale colors cut for a woman of my height. Angel again.

I’d almost forgotten about the “party”. I wished I could forget again.

I chose a silvery Diane von Furstenberg from the pile. Its neckline dipped low, but the long lines would hide my bare feet. At least, I had every intention of going barefoot until I discovered the shoeboxes on the coffee table.

Manolo Blahnik. Chanel. Louis Vuitton.

It was a buffet of brands, and a miracle. Women’s size twelve?

They had to be custom, which made them even more extravagantly expensive. The M-10 could obviously afford it, but it sparked my unease. Maybe they thought throwing luxury frills my way would make me indebted.

BOOK: Ivory (Manhatten ten)
5.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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