The Beckoning of Bravelicious Things (The Beckoning Series Book 3) Read online

  “What kind of shit?” I look at him, my eyes wide and confused.

  “We’re Numina, darlin’. We do things differently. We don’t do life, love, anything the same as people. You get to choose. You get to shape your world.” He rubs his jaw. “Like me—you know I’m a man-whore. I have to get laid on a regular basis. Have to. You know this to be true.”

  “So you say.”

  He smirks. “I do what I’ve gotta do. I take care of myself, never judge my actions. I always leave them wanting more. Or, at least that’s how it went down until I met you. Now, they’re all potato chips while you’re an endless gourmet meal.”

  I look at him and purse my lips together. “You’re calling me good food?”

  “The best food. Food with heart,” he says fiercely.

  “What about the white picket fence and the big wedding my aunt always told me I’d get?” I smile wanly at him.

  “And what did you think when she said that to you?”

  “That it was her fairy tale, not mine.”

  “And there you go. Your smarts pushed through, even then. Even though you’d been given something to erase your memory of who and what you are, you knew.” He turns and faces me squarely. “What do you want, darlin’?” He gently draws little circles on my breastbone.

  “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

  “Then, guess we’ll all have to live with ‘don’t know’ until you do know.” He gives me a warm smile. “Well,” he says, his blues eyes sparkling.

  “Well,” I say. “Please be safe. We have enough crap to deal with when you get back. Make this a quick, fruitful journey.”

  “You got it.” He studies me carefully for a moment, looking deeply into my eyes. “I love you, darlin’. With all my wretched heart.” He gives me one more kiss, then swiftly turns and jogs away. His speed increases, he jumps like a long jumper, and he disappears into his blurry world.

  Chapter 3

  A short while later, I step into the café where Marta and I have agreed to meet, and I quickly scan the room for her. This is one of my favorite hangouts. Lined with windows, filled with well-spaced round wooden tables, each one sporting a tiny vase holding a single flower, it’s a great place to sit and sip warm beverages, eat good food, and escape from one’s daily woes. There’s always new art on the walls from emerging artists, and not just the cheesy, suck-ass, ‘trying out a new career as a creative’ kind—the owner of the shop has an eye for what’s hot and what’s not. I’ve even had art here—photos, paintings, water colors—and they were well received. It’s frequently bustling, but when you sit at your table, you feel as if you’re in a protected space, shielded from sight and sound.

  Two of the softest, warmest hands I’ve ever known cover my eyes from behind. I peel them away, smiling, and turn to face her.

  “Marissa!” Marta squeals.

  “Marta!”

  She embraces me in one of the best hugs you could ever have the pleasure of experiencing—Marta gives an outstanding hug. When we release one another, we’re both grinning like two people who won the lottery and have just celebrated with a six-pack.

  “Wow! You look fantastic!” I say. “Love the saucy new hairstyle. Those fringy bangs make your blue eyes pop.”

  “You should talk. You look amazing! Same long, dark wavy hair, same ravishing figure, but wow.... It’s like you glow with an inner light,” she gushes.

  I glance down, making certain no electricity is lighting up my limbs. Talk about awkward. I have to work incredibly hard to shield my abilities since they’re new to me. Sometimes they just pop out, especially when I’m high on some emotion like the excitement I feel at the sight of Marta.

  We make our way to a corner table. When we settle into our seats, I steal a peek around the room. Several men smile. A couple of them avert their gazes, pretending nonchalance. “You got the attention of every male in here,” I grin at my friend.

  “Don’t be serious. It’s you—you’re stunningly beautiful. My God, how you’ve changed!”

  “But you…you’ve become even cuter, if that’s even possible.” Marta’s a short woman, five-feet-two tops. She’s bubbly, fun, and has two endearing dimples, shiny brown hair, and gorgeous curvy curves.

  “Thanks, Marissa, but now we’ve gotten that out of the way, I want to hear all the dirt. Dish it, girlfriend. What’s been going on with you? Why is it I left you, a fledgling goddess, and I return and you’re a full blown warrior goddess?”

  “You can tell?” I hope nothing’s sparkling, shimmering, or electric.

  “I always knew you had something amazing inside. We mere mortals can’t begin to comprehend. Start talking. But first, please tell me you’ve ditched Jason. Please, please, please.”

  “Oh, he is so history. He turned out to be an even bigger tool than we imagined.”

  “No, I can imagine. Who are you with now? Is he gorgeous? Strong? Can he match your strength?” She teases me, grinning across the table.

  “Yes, yes and then some,” I say, thinking of Daniel’s mastery. He’s hands-down the most powerful man on the planet. A small shiver shoots up my spine when I think of the demonic world he commands. And then there’s Rafe—I do not want to know what kind of gruesomeness his assassin skills involve.

  I’ve always been able to talk to Marta. I could always tell her everything and she’d accept me. Only now, two years later, I’ve seen and done things that can’t be explained. She might have been teasing about being a “mere mortal”, but she has no idea what I’ve managed to get into. I certainly don’t think I can share everything—yet. “I’m with an amazing guy, Marta—Daniel Navid. He’s to die for.” Uh, literally to die for, as in, he or the demons he commands could kill me in a heartbeat. Good thing he loves me.

  “I knew it!”

  “I’m also with…” My gaze falls to the table. “I’ve got…”

  “Wait, what? Say it. You’ve also got…?”

  I lift my eyes and blurt, “I’ve got two lovers, Marta! I don’t know what to do with them, or how it happened!”

  Her eyebrows arch. “Two lovers? My, my, that sounds fun.”

  She comments slowly, and I can tell she’s entirely confused as to how I, after being so taken with the horrid Jason for so long, have ended up with two totally different men in my bed. “It is fun. And it isn’t. I’m hoping you can give me a few tips. In any case, we’re all, uh, we’re all getting ready to go away together so I can figure it out. So I can figure myself out, more like it.”

  “The three of you are going on vacation? That sounds adventurous...”

  “More like terrifying,” I say.

  “What’s terrifying about a vacation?”

  “We’re heading into the unknown, big time.” I lock eyes with her for a second.

  Her face grows serious and she slowly nods, as if she truly gets it. “I can see you’ve really changed. You’re much stronger and way more mysterious than when I saw you last.” Her attention shifts to the waiter heading our way. She glances at him. He’s looking at her and no one else. Wordlessly, he drops the menus and two glasses of ice water on the table and departs.

  I smile. Marta draws attention wherever she goes.

  “So, where are you going? Somewhere exotic?”

  “Oh, we’ll start in eastern Washington and head out from there.” That’s not a lie. Our search for the three crones who forged my sword involves entering an energy portal somewhere in eastern Washington. After that, we’ll trek through some of the most dangerous terrain a human will ever encounter, let alone a magical human. I’ve been told we’ll possibly encounter every deadly magical thing that exists. And that’s before we reach the sisters, who are feared among all the Numina.

  She frowns. “Sort of a camping trip? Road trip?”

  “Sort of. All I know is it will be an adventure.” I smile at her, hiding my ginormous trepidation.

  “Well,” she says cautiously. “If you say it’s going to be an adventure, then adventu
re it will be.” She smiles warmly at me, then mutters, “Two lovers,” and looks around the café. “He’s cute,” she says, inclining her head toward the guy two tables away. “I’ve been in a kind of man drought living in China. I’m jealous to hear you’ve got two. Maybe I’ll saunter his way before we leave.” She smiles and waves at him before turning her attention my way.

  Our waiter shuffles over, staring at Marta likes he’s a starving mutt and she’s a tasty bone. He’s kind of cute, and seems friendly, quirky and a little bit awkward with the social skills.

  “You ladies know what you’d like?” He glances at me and does a double take, quickly looking back to Marta. “How about you? What will it be?”

  She smiles. “Club sandwich and ice tea. You, Marissa?”

  “Turkey burger and ice tea.”

  He nods, swallows, and disappears.

  “That was weird,” I say. “Why do you think he flinched when he looked at me?”

  “Are you kidding? You’re like this flaming bombshell. I’m sure he felt safer with me.”

  “Oh, please,” I scoff.

  “I’m not joking. You’re amazing. Even I’m a little overwhelmed by you, and I don’t get overwhelmed.” She smiles brightly. “So, let’s get back to you. I never got a chance to ask you.... Why didn’t you ever contact Chris again? Why’d you just settle for a surfer bum?”

  Chris. At the thought of the super sexy dancer in Thunder from Down Under, with whom I shared a magical eighteen hours a couple of years ago, I swallow. We had a lusty weekend in Las Vegas a while back. The only way I managed to force him from my thoughts when I returned home from Las Vegas was by spending time with Jason and his goofy antics. He kept me both pissed off and laughing. “Truth?”

  “Absolutely the truth. Chris was gorgeous, kind, an incredible dancer, and he was so into you. I thought you’d be making babies by now,” she winks.

  “He was all of that, true. But he, uh, he had to change his identity. He’s no longer Chris King. Something involving a murder. That guy always with him—Steve—he was assigned to protect him.”

  “Oh, my God!” She says, her face falling. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “I was sworn to secrecy. I wasn’t even supposed to know. I told him he wouldn’t get the good stuff unless he spilled his secret. He and Steve were always hinting at danger, trading furtive, secretive stares, and so on. When I spied Steve following us back to the hotel that night I put my foot down and made him talk.”

  Marta burst out laughing. “Oh, boy, he sure wanted to get down to it! So badly, he was willing to risk his own life,” she spluttered. “That’s priceless.” She looks at me, sees I’m not laughing, and sobers. “Was he some sort of drug runner? Chris, I mean.”

  “Nope. He witnessed a murder two days before we met. Two days! Can you imagine?”

  Marta shudders. “No way! How horrible!”

  “Yeah, way. So he was my one night magical stand. I never forgot him, though. I think about him every once in a while. It was a wow weekend, as you recall.” She blushed and fanned her face. “I think it prepared me for Daniel and Rafe. He even sang to me over the weekend. He had a great voice.”

  “I’ll bet he had more things that were great.”

  I blush. Chris had one of the largest male appendages I’ve ever seen. “He did, true.”

  “So tell me about these new guys. How did you meet them?”

  Luckily, I expected this question. I sketch a plausible tale of meeting these two deadly, magical males while Marta oohs and aahs at appropriate intervals. “Oh—and here’s big news. You don’t know this yet—I inherited a coffee plantation in Brazil.”

  Marta coughs water from her mouth and I giggle in response. “Are you shitting me? You own a coffee plantation?”

  “Lock, stock and barrel. It’s beautiful. You’ll have to come and visit me.”

  “Wow, Marissa, and here I thought I was the exotic world traveler.”

  I shrug. “It’s been a wild couple of years. Who knew one night of passion with a gorgeous dancer could lead to my exciting life with two alpha males?”

  Our waiter returns with our lunch, sets it on the table, and pauses, staring at Marta.

  “Can I help you?” She asks, coolly.

  “I, uh, I wondered if, uh…”

  “Spit it out.” Her eyes run up and down his body, appraising him appreciatively.

  “I…I…I just wondered if you needed catsup for your fries,” he says quickly, as if he needs to spit out a hot mouthful of food.

  She stares at him as if his eyeballs have grown hair. “Sure thing. Catsup it is.”

  After he leaves, she splutters. “He wanted to ask me out! I know he did!”

  “I suspect as much. Are you interested?”

  “He’s cute enough. He could help me ease back into life here in the states. Maybe I’ll get a couple of men, like you.” She winks at me.

  “You say that like it’s easy, like picking out sheets for the bed. It’s far more complicated. Daniel’s extremely possessive. He, uh, wanted to commit to me early on. We made, um, vows, kind of, one night.”

  “What kind of vows?” She asks, her face furrowed.

  “Oh, you know, binding our souls through time,” I say breezily, thinking of that night of exquisite passion, Daniel mumbling Latin at the moment of climax and the binding deed done without consulting me.

  “Right,” she scoffs, sipping her soda. “That’s intense, don’t you think?”

  “You have no idea,” I say, toying with my fork. “And then Rafe. He’s got to be the sweetest guy around.” When he’s not murdering people. “But he’s pretty intense, too. And get this—both have been teaching me how to fight.”

  “What do you mean, ‘how to fight’?”

  “Sword techniques. Hand to hand. Stealth maneuvers. Combat strategy.” Magic. Conducting the electricity in my body to make it do what I want.

  “Whatever for?” She asks, her face creased in concern. “Are you involved in a play or something? Martial arts? Why would you need to learn how to fight?”

  I cast my gaze up, searching for a plausible answer. “It’s something I’ve always been interested in,” I say, trying to shrug the question away.

  “No, it isn’t,” she says, putting her hands palm down on the table. “You’re an artist. Sensitive. Remember how I had to pull you from your art cave to get you to Las Vegas?”

  “Well, I guess it was a dormant desire,” I say defensively. “Your catsup is coming.” I nod toward the waiter.

  Marta glances up. She smiles mischievously. “Oh, thank you,” she says. Her eyes dart to his nametag. “Adam. That’s a nice name. Don’t you think Adam is a nice name, Marissa?”

  “One of the best,” I say, playing along.

  Adam looks both pleased and flustered. She’ll have him hooked by the time we leave.

  “We’re missing a salt shaker. Can you find us one, too, please?”

  After Adam scurries off, we burst out laughing.

  “You’re incorrigible, you know that?” I say.

  “I’m out of practice is what I am.” She rolls her eyes. “Rusty. I should have landed him by now.”

  “Who says you haven’t?” I say, watching Adam hustle in our direction. He’s carrying a salt shaker and a vase with a fresher flower than the one we’ve got in the center of the table.

  He sets the salt in front of Marta, then replaces the vase, turning the flower so it’s leaning toward her, and says, “Anything else?”

  Marta flashes him a coy look. “Your phone number, maybe?” Her head inclines ever so slightly to the left.

  “Uh, sure. No problem.” He fumbles for his pen, writes his number on a napkin, and smiles.

  “I’m Marta, by the way. Just returned from a gig in China.”

  “China?” His eyes grow wide. “Wow.”

  “Yes, quite a ‘wow’, Adam.” She teases indulgently.

  He stares at her admiringly. “Marta? Pretty name.
It’s a pleasure.” He takes her proffered hand and grins. “Well. I’ve got to get back to work,” he says, standing in place.

  “You do. It’s busy in here.” Marta gestures to the room.

  Adam remains glued in place. “I hope to hear from you.”

  “You will. We’ll have to ask for the check sooner or later.”

  Adam’s face appears perplexed, confused. “Uh…”

  “I’m kidding, Adam.”

  His face relaxes. “Right.”

  “I’ve got your number.” She waves the napkin at him. “I’ll keep it safe.” She makes a show of tucking it into her purse.

  “Good, good,” Adam says before striding away.

  “One night stand at best,” Marta says to me. “But it’s a start. Now let’s get back to you and your combat skills.”

  “I’d rather get back to me and my confusing love life.”

  “Oh, that,” she says, like it’s a simple topic. “Be direct. Ask for what you want. Don’t be vague. They both know about the other, right, as in they know you’re screwing both of them?”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that, but yes, they know.”

  “Okay, then. What’s the problem?”

  “The problem is me. We’re all in this state of tension, waiting for me to decide. You know how when we were in Las Vegas, I told you I wanted to be the person in charge of my life? How my dumbass aunt ruled my life after Mom and Dad died, and then she tried to control me like a puppet through my sisters when we were in Las Vegas?”

  “Yeah, and I totally supported you in taking back your power. I think you’ve come along nicely,” she says, her eyebrows arching high. “Look at you.”

  “I still need work on this figuring out my own choices bit,” I say, taking a bite of my burger. After I swallow it, I say, “Daniel—he can be a bit domineering and bossy. He’s rich, powerful, and used to getting what he wants. He kind of manipulated me into the vows. That’s partly why I acceded to Rafe’s seductions. Daniel was away. I thought he was gone for good. When he returned, the deed was done—Rafe and I were in love. Oh, Marta, this is so confusing. What do I want? I love them both.”

  “You’ve got a passionate heart, girlfriend. I have no answers except to follow it.”