Marcun (Sky Warriors Book 1) Read online

  Eden took after her father in looks. He’s been a great bear of a man. Although she couldn’t remember much about him, she did remember how safe he made her feel. And how when he laughed it was like the whole house shook.

  They should’ve look strange together, her giant father and her dainty mother. Instead, in every photo she’d seen of them, they looked perfect. Maybe that was due to the look on her father’s face as he’d gazed at her mother in most of those photos. As though she were the center of his world.

  “Eden, you’re late.”

  “Hello, Mother,” Eden replied. “I actually think we’re on time.”

  “Yes, but you were supposed to come early.” Her mother ran her gaze over Marcun.

  “My clothes are perfectly respectable.” They just weren’t designer, which her mother preferred. “Mother, let me introduce Marcun,” she said quickly. “He’s come as my guest.”

  “How lovely to meet you, Marcun.” Her mother held out her small, pale hand. Marcun looked at it for a moment then took it in his and shook it vigorously. Her mother looked shocked and Eden winced.

  “May we come in?”

  “Of course,” her mother said graciously, even as she stared daggers at Eden. “Please, Marcun, consider my home your home.”

  Marcun just gave a nod. Maybe he was taking her advice. Maybe this wasn’t going to be a complete disaster.

  11

  It wasn’t a complete disaster.

  It was a catastrophe.

  It had started out okay. Her mother had recovered quickly, as she knew she would. Turning a guest away would be the height of bad manners, so she’d welcomed Marcun into the house, then latched onto him to introduce him around.

  She’d shooed Eden upstairs to get changed. Eden had paused, not wanting to leave Marcun, but also knowing she couldn’t push her mother too far without consequences. With the threat of retaliation in her eyes and a soft smile on her face, her mother had given her ‘the look,’ the one that told her any argument would end in disaster—for her. So after giving Marcun’s arm a squeeze, she raced upstairs to quickly change.

  She winced as she walked into her old bedroom. The walls were a soft pink, the double bed covered in a pale pink bedspread with white clouds floating across it. A white mesh canopy hung from the top of the headboard, falling on either side of the bed. Her mother had left the whole bedroom as some sort of shrine. Except Eden was still alive.

  She sat on the pink chaise lounge that rested along the wall next to the large window. This would be a dream bedroom for an eight-year-old girl. At thirty-two it just made her feel ill. And old. Her stomach churned. She couldn’t move back here. It would be like entering a time warp. She’d be under her mother’s control once more, a puppet to do with her as she liked.

  But what was the alternative? Live on the streets?

  She stood. She couldn’t think about this right now. She just had to get through this ghastly dinner and get home. With Marcun.

  Jesus, she’d left Marcun alone with her mother and her group of vipers.

  Eden grabbed the hideous suit from the bed. It matched her mother’s outfit, except hers was baby blue rather than the pale yellow her mother had chosen. On her mother, the suit looked dignified, flattering.

  On Eden, it looks hideous. Her boobs spread the jacket too wide, it made her hips look enormous and the color just looked babyish on her. It washed her out. Sometimes she thought her mother deliberately chose outfits that would not suit Eden’s coloring and size.

  But she thought she was probably being too harsh.

  She slipped on a pair of pumps then twisted her hair back and clipped it back in a loose bun. She took a brief look in the mirror. That would have to be good enough. She needed to get downstairs and rescue Marcun.

  This was such a bad idea. Her gut had been telling her that all day. But instead of spending her time convincing him not to come with her, she’d spent it in bed with him. She blushed at the memory of everything they’d done together.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she stood for a moment and took a deep, calming breath. She couldn’t go into that room thinking about sex. Any hint of weakness or impropriety and her mother’s friends would pounce.

  The door to the parlor opened. Personally, she thought calling it a parlor was ridiculous but her mother liked how grand it sounded. Ingrid, her mother’s long-time housekeeper, stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, an empty tray in one hand. She saw Eden standing there and smiled.

  “Eden,” she said in greeting.

  “Hi, Ingrid, how are you? How is Hugo?” Her husband had been poorly lately.

  Ingrid smiled. “He is feeling better.”

  “That’s great. So, how are things going in there?” She nodded over at the parlor.

  “Handsome man you brought with you,” Ingrid said as she walked over. “Are you and he involved?”

  Eden shook her head. “No, just friends.”

  Ingrid raised her eyebrows. “I suggest you get inside and rescue your ‘friend’ then. They have started on the bubbles and he’s outnumbered.”

  Oh crap.

  “Thanks.” Eden squeezed her arm as she slipped past. She turned the handle, took a deep breath and entered her version of hell.

  He didn’t like what she was wearing. It wasn’t her. It was too formal and the color was all wrong. And she’d pinned her hair back. He liked it down in soft waves. He especially liked the feel of those silky locks against his thighs as she sucked on his shaft.

  His rod stirred, growing thick.

  He drew on his control. This was not the time. Not in this room of people, with her mother close by.

  Marcun glanced down at the tiny female next to him, wondering how she could be related to his Eden. Where Eden was kind and honest and sweet, her mother had a sharp edge. She smiled, but it was fake and her biggest smiles came as she delivered some insult.

  Oh, he knew they thought he did not understand. And mostly, he did not. But he was very good at reading body language. Their words might sound friendly, but the meaning behind them was anything but.

  Eden walked towards him, her hips swaying back and forth. Beside him, he felt her mother stiffen. Glancing down at her, he noticed how her lips tightened with displeasure.

  Eden was waylaid by an older couple and he had to fight hard against going to her. He wanted her next to him, where he could protect her better. Still, it would not take him long to cross the room if necessary, not that he thought there would be a physical threat.

  “So, Marcun,” her mother said. Priscilla. She had insisted he call her that. He had no idea what else he would call her. “Tell me, how do you know my daughter?”

  “I live next to her.”

  “Really?” One of her mother’s friends asked, a thin woman with sharp eyes and bright red lips. It was hard not to stare at her mouth; it looked as though she had painted her lips in blood. “Doesn’t Eden live in some horrible little apartment in Brooklyn?”

  She said the word Brooklyn as though it was dirty.

  “Eden has her own business. She is an entrepreneur,” Eden’s mother said.

  His estimation of her went up slightly. At least she defended her daughter.

  “Oh yes, a donut shop was it not? I couldn’t own one of those. Once on the lips always on the hips.” Blood lips laughed, patting her very narrow hips. She looked frail, breakable. And what did she even mean?

  She reached out and grabbed hold his forearm and he noticed that her nails were as red as her lips. Long and sharply filed, like claws. He had to resist the urge to shove her away from him.

  “So, Marcun, what do you do for a living?”

  “Do?”

  “Yes, how do you make money? Or do you have enough money that you do not have to work?” She squeezed his arm. “What big muscles you have, do you work out?”

  He looked for Eden again. She had been caught up by someone else now.

  “With those muscles, I’m guessing you’re
some sort of personal trainer. How would you like to whip me into shape?”

  She wanted him to whip her? Some creatures liked pain, enjoyed it. He did not realize humans were like that. Did Eden want pain with her pleasure?

  “You enjoy being whipped?” he asked.

  There was a pause then she laughed. The sound was grating, high-pitched, and he winced.

  “Darling, if you’re doing the whipping I could be talked around.”

  “Frances,” Priscilla hissed, although he could see a hint of a smile on her lips. “Your husband is just over there.” She pointed at an elderly man sitting in a chair that hovered off the floor. He was half-turned away from them.

  “Yes,” blood lips said with a sneer. “He insisted on coming. I tried to leave him at home.”

  “Oh, I must go. I just saw Alan and Margie arrive. Will you look after Marcun for me, Frances?” Priscilla asked.

  Blood lips smiled. His body chilled. “Of course, Priscilla.”

  Eden’s mother abandoned him, and Eden now had her back to him. His suspicions stirred. Had Eden’s mother set this up? He had not seen anyone new arrive.

  Frances ran her fingers up his arm. He stood still, knowing that moving away would just set off her predatory instincts. “Why don’t we sneak back to my house for a bit of fun?”

  Fun?

  He glanced over at her husband.

  “Oh, don’t worry about him. He won’t even notice I’m gone. He’s half-blind and nearly fully deaf. We could have sex in the next room and he wouldn’t even notice.”

  She wished him to have sex with her while her mate was in the next room? What was wrong with her?

  “No.”

  “Come on now, don’t be shy.” She pressed up against him, her breasts like two rubbery balls against his arm, her sharp finger nails digging into him. “You cannot tell me that you’d rather be with Eden. Look at the poor girl. Mutton dressed with lamb. No matter how Priscilla tries to dress her up, you can’t hide the fact that she’s fat and awkward and boring. Wouldn’t you rather experience a real woman’s touch?”

  “I would.”

  She smiled, her eyes gleaming. “Good. I knew you had better taste. Just using Eden to get to her mother, are you? You wouldn’t be the first. Priscilla has plenty of money and when she dies it will all go to Eden. It’s why Barry married her, you know.” She laughed again. He wished she would stop doing that. It was damaging his ears. “We’re alike, you and I.” She nodded over at her husband. “You want to get them older, though, darling. You won’t have to wait so long for your pay day, then. Then they don’t demand much more than a cuddle now and then.” She shuddered. “That’s bad enough, but it’s the price you pay for the money you’ll inherit. Now I can introduce you to a few older rich female friends of Fred’s. You can latch on to one of them and then you and I would be free to play.”

  His gaze went to Eden.

  “Oh, don’t worry about her. Priscilla has some rich stockbroker picked out for her. It’s why she brought you to me. I don’t say this to hurt your feelings, darling, but there is no way Priscilla would allow you to marry her daughter. You’re cute, but not connected. Priscilla is thinking of bloodlines. God knows why. I suppose she wants a grandchild to mold into a mini-her after the disastrous job she did with Eden.”

  It took every ounce of control he had to stand there silently and not defend Eden. He stuck his hands behind his back so as not to betray himself as they curled into fists. Not that he would hit the female, not unless she physically threatened Eden. But his anger was leaking out. A shock for someone who was always so cold and calm no matter the circumstances.

  The reason he did not tell the female no or walk away from her was because with each word that came out of her mouth, she revealed something interesting. It seemed almost unfathomable to him that Eden’s mother had deliberately introduced him to this female so she would seduce him away from Eden. She had probably arranged for people to waylay Eden and keep them apart. But how had she managed that? She hadn’t known he was coming and she’d only just left his side now.

  He pondered that for a moment. “Does Eden’s mother do this often?”

  “What? Manipulate her daughter so she gets what she wants? Of course. She got rid of Barry, you know.”

  He stiffened. “What?”

  “Yes, it was a surprise to all of us. But she’d heard rumors about his gambling and whoring.”

  “He cheated on Eden?”

  “Oh yes, numerous times. She’s a real ice princess in the bedroom, by all accounts. Barry had more fiery tastes.”

  “So Eden’s mother sought to protect her by arranging for him to leave. Because he was unfaithful.” He approved of that.

  The female laughed. He wondered if her laugh was the reason her husband was nearly fully deaf.

  “My, you can tell you don’t move in this circle. Of course she didn’t get rid of him because of that. No, it was the fact that he wouldn’t get rid of the bakery. Priscilla wants Eden back here, living in this neighborhood and dancing to her tune.” She grabbed a glass of something filled with pale yellow liquid that bubbled.

  “No, she paid him to leave because he wouldn’t do her bidding. Gave him a wad of cash and told him to never come back.” She took a sip of the liquid. “He’s probably burned through all that cash by now, no doubt he’s found himself some other gullible rich woman to marry.”

  But Eden wasn’t rich. Why didn’t her mother give her the money to help her with the bakery or to move somewhere safer?

  “Eden does not know.”

  “Of course not. It was all done very quietly. I only know because Priscilla is my best friend.”

  They had a strange idea of friendship if she told her friend’s secrets to a stranger.

  “Priscilla hates that Eden works. That she lives in that hovel.”

  “Then why does she not help her?” He looked around at the large house. Everything looked expensive and breakable. It was a far cry from the small, rundown apartment that Eden lived in.

  He preferred the hovel. Although he didn’t like how unsafe it was.

  “Because if she helped her out, she’d never move back here. Oh, I’m sure Pris would give her money if she asked. It would be in bad taste not to. And she does love her daughter.”

  Did she?

  He watched as Eden’s mother grabbed hold of her daughter’s arm and steered her over to the corner of the room where a male with short brown hair stood talking to an older, thin woman. He wore a jacket and pants. He was slightly soft and pale, as though he didn’t spend much time outside.

  Eden’s face closed up as the man reached out to shake her hand. He felt a surge of jealousy as the other male touched her.

  Mine.

  He took a step forward.

  The female tightened her hold on him. “Where are you going, darling? I thought we were just getting to know each other. Don’t worry about Eden. That’s her mother’s latest pick. He’s a boring, plain man but he’s got money. He’ll suit Eden. Just like you’ll suit me. I have access to plenty of money if that’s what you’re worried about. Come on, I’ll head home and you follow me in ten minutes.”

  He glared down at her then drew his arm out of her hand. He stormed across the room, his anger and jealousy growing with each step.

  “Well, I never …” she said behind him, but he didn’t hear the rest of the sentence; thunder had filled his ears.

  When he was next to Eden, his heart rate started to slow slightly, although he still felt unsettled. Unsure. And that was not him.

  Then she turned to him and a smile lit her face. A genuine one, not the fake one she’d worn since stepping into the room. “Marcun, I was trying to get to you.” She reached out and wrapped her hand through his arm and the jealousy started to fade. She leaned into him and his airways loosened, allowing him to drag more air into his lungs. “Sorry it took me so long. Meet Karen and her son, Mark. This is my friend, Marcun.”

  He nodded stiffly
at the male, then at his mother. They both gave him bland, uninterested looks.

  “Marcun, how nice of you to join us,” Priscilla said to him. Her voice said it was anything but nice. Beside him, Eden stiffened. “Karen and I were just going to let Eden and Mark get acquainted. Perhaps you would like me to introduce you to some other people? You seemed to be getting on very well with Francis. I’m surprised you could tear yourself away from her.”

  “It was not difficult. She is a gossip and she has sex with men who are not her ma-husband,” he corrected himself. There was silence around them. He glanced around to find at least half a dozen people staring at them.

  “I’m sure you’re mistaken,” Priscilla said, her face tight and pale. “Can I get you all something to drink, eat?”

  “I am not mistaken. She asked me to go back to her house to have sex with her.”

  Eden gasped. Then she spun towards Francis. “She did what?”

  More people had stopped talking and were listening on, interest on their faces.

  “I’m going to have to have words with Francis,” Eden said through clenched teeth.

  “You will not.” Priscilla reached out and grabbed hold of Eden’s arm. “You will stay here and talk to Mark. He came all this way to meet you and you will not be rude and walk off. You will also not make a scene in my house.”

  “I only live four blocks over,” the other male said. “And I do believe it’s time to leave. Mother?”

  “Yes, you are right.” The other woman’s nostrils were pinched, her face filled with distaste. “This was an interesting party, Priscilla.”

  Priscilla smiled but there was an almost desperate look on her face. “Please, don’t go. We haven’t even eaten yet.”

  “Somehow, I have lost my appetite.” They both sped a hasty retreat.