Dark's Destiny

Chapter 1-2

Somehow that nickname fit. Not just in describing his hair color, either. Self-confidence bordering the edge of arrogance exuded from him. His words were sharp and clear, straight to the point, without a single hesitation or filler. Power radiated from him, both physical and something more. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

She readjusted her earlier assessment of him. The close-up version provided more insight as well as amped up his s*x appeal. French fencer no longer fit. Not with such a large specimen as him. She leaned more toward her second guesses. While the mystery remained, his lineage had to encompass men accustomed to and proficient with armor, battle axes, and swords. Rugged mixed with classical flair. His wide chest and tall stature reminded her of the fabled Viking invaders, though the coloring didn’t quite match. Muscles in his arms and shoulders rolled with each movement as she could easily see under the light material of his short-sleeved shirt. He was built. Ripped. Gorgeous, if she ignored the attitude and snappy demands.

All the beauty in the world didn’t compensate for nastiness.

“Nice to meet you…Dark.” She sucked in a breath. “Perhaps, considering the circumstances, we can start over, with a bit less animosity?”

Amusement briefly flashed in his eyes as he smiled just enough to let her know he appreciated her spunk. For the moment.

She didn’t have any illusions that he would get rather challenging if his promised book wasn’t located, and soon. “Can you describe this book? Give me an idea what we’re looking for?”

“Leather bound. Old English. Drawings of a flower on the front.”

That sparked her interest. “Flower? What kind of flower?”

“I have no idea what kind of flower. Floriculture isn’t my strong suit.”

Her momentary respite from his snapping ended with the strongly punctuated reply.

She raked him with her gaze from head to toe, growing perturbed at his attitude once more. “Yes, of course. Not everyone is into flowers.” Too bad. They could have spent some time talking plants, blooms, and harvesting. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll start in the rare books section.”

Leading the way, Destiny lifted her chin and refused to glance back to see if he followed. The sooner she located his book, the sooner he would hightail it out the exit, leaving her with some material for her dreams.

* * * *

Dark trailed behind the woman, watching her hips sway with each confident step. Her long brunette hair swung with the movement, lapping at her back, and drawing attention to her nicely-shaped rear. He’d seen the determination and tightly leashed anger in her expression earlier, but it was her wit that captured his attention the most. Trying to make peace with a sincere smile and reason. He enjoyed the glimpse of spirit she’d shown. Many women skittered away or were cowed when he let his temper free. This one didn’t. Intelligence and stubbornness broadcast in equal parts from her round face with full lips ripe for kissing. A light touch with makeup drew out an innocence and attractiveness much more than those with a heavier hand could ever accomplish. She radiated natural beauty, a snappy intelligence, and pride. Her green eyes were filled with astuteness and a natural cunning. She was smart, there was no question about that.

All of those appealed to him, especially wrapped into a single pretty package.

He’d briefly checked her hand, found no ring, and considered asking her out. As soon as the idea occurred, he dismissed it. After all, he had a mission to complete, evil to contain, and the world to save. His social life would just have to take a back seat for a while.

He hadn’t asked for this assignment and would much rather be tiling the bathroom of his latest fixer-upper house. No such luck and it seemed the renovations would have to wait a bit longer.

A stooped, elderly man with snow white hair stopped Destiny on her trek. “Where are the westerns?”

She pointed to her left. “Down that aisle.”

“Huh?” He cupped his hand around his ear, lifting his cane to do so.

“Right down there.” She tugged on his sleeve and escorted him to the area. “Right here.”

He grinned widely. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She returned to Dark’s side. “Sorry.”

“No problem.”

For weeks he’d searched for the damn book until he finally hit upon success. He trusted the old woman to keep her word, breathed a sigh of relief, and made plans to dash across the country as soon as he could. As far as he knew, no one else searched for the relic, probably no one else could read it, and for the moment, good and evil remained in balance. It wouldn’t last. Never did. But he thought he had ample days to finish his job, retrieve the item, and get back home before all hell broke loose. Close. Really close. With no time to spare, he needed to get his hands on his ancestor’s writings, find the spells he required, and get to the source. Easy peasy. Then, and only then, could he return to his normally scheduled life without the powers that be breathing down his neck to step up to the plate and do something.

Except the sole woman who knew the location of the book had died, her successor didn’t have a clue, and the subtle sway of flared hips captivated him like nothing else had in a very long time.

“Here is the entire collection of antique books.” She gestured toward one wall. “Aunt Pru didn’t sort by any particular means with these books. Just pushed them in wherever she could find a space and the tallness of the book came close to the one next to it.”

“Sorting by book size?” He shook his head. Many people in his world could be labeled as zany or off-the-wall. Still, he’d never heard of anyone doing such things. To each their own.

Destiny shrugged, the light tan blouse slipping from her shoulder just enough to reveal alluring skin at the nape of her neck. “Aunt Pru did things her own way.”

Obviously so. Unwilling to waste further time, he scanned the shelves, seeing and feeling nothing that remotely resembled the book of magic spells he sought. “It’s not here.”

She frowned. “We only just started looking ten seconds ago.”

“It’s not here,” he repeated. Granted, the last time he held the book in his hands, he was a pre-teen and his powers were only starting to gain in strength. He recalled the warmth, the sense of rightness when he held the old leather, as if the book welcomed him home. None of that greeted him now. Considering he’d had nearly two decades to hone his abilities, the book should have jumped out at him.

The shelves remained as dusty and lifeless as the first time he wandered down the aisle.

Irritation rose. “She said she would hold it. Why wouldn’t she?”

Destiny held up one hand. “Whoa. Don’t go there. Aunt Pru was many things, but never a liar. If she told you she held the book, then she did.”

He glared down at her. “Then where is it?”

She breathed deeply, presumably to gain patience and leash an unprofessional quip sitting on the end of her tongue. “I can assure you, nothing like that has been sold. Yes, the store remained open, but any special novels, especially antiques, are religiously tracked. We keep records on everything. Aunt Pru wouldn’t have left your book sitting around for someone else to pick up. She would have marked it and stored it.”

“Then why are we looking on the shelf?”

She scrunched her nose. “Because I’m a firm believer in covering all the bases.” She turned on her heel and headed behind the counter.

He followed, ignoring common courtesy that would’ve kept most people from crossing the invisible line created by the checkout desk. Boxes sat here and there, along with a few empty wooden shelves. A table and chairs took up one corner next to a doorway, presumably a bathroom. The other side appeared mostly empty, except for a stray broom and one decent-sized refrigerator. Another doorway opened past that.

If his book was in the store, it would have to be hidden away in one of the boxes. Goody for me. He growled in growing impatience.

“This box came in today, so I can assure you this isn’t it. There are a couple of storage totes over there. Feel free to dig through them.”

He did so grudgingly, knowing he wouldn’t find his precious book. Still, he checked thoroughly, just in case. Nothing but romance novels, many with bare-chested men and pretty women on the covers. He found zilch old or magical in the stack.

Dark shook his head in disgust. “Where else would she keep it?” He turned and trapped Destiny with his gaze. He easily read the confusion and concern on her face and understood she didn’t know anything more than he did. Yet, he wasn’t about to give up on his only hope and possible link.

She lifted her chin and chewed her bottom lip for a few seconds. Finally, she seemed to make a decision. “At…another location.” Her hem-hawing didn’t fool him. Most likely the book would be at her house and she didn’t want a strange man to know the whereabouts. Practical.

“Where is that?”

“Close.” She checked her watch and cringed. “I have to get my hair cut in twenty minutes. Not enough time to fetch the book for you.” She lifted her chin once more and met his eyes. “Can you meet me after that?”

“Sure. Where?” He found something interesting in Destiny. The idea of spending more time with her felt right, despite the rush to retrieve the book.

“Ummm.” She worried her lip once more—a tell-tale sign of nervousness and frantic thinking.

“I saw a café at the end of the street. How about there?”

She blinked at him. A slow smile appeared. “That would be perfect. I’ll even buy you a cup of coffee for all the inconvenience.”

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “My treat. I insist.”

“Thank you.” She tilted her head and appraised him as if seeing him in a new light. Hopefully, less jerk and more man. Because just being in her presence made his aura spark with excitement. Something that had never happened before.

I might not be the brightest man on the block, but I’m not totally stupid, either. Destiny possessed something special. He just didn’t know what yet.

In time.

She glanced at her watch once more. “I’m sorry. I have to go or I’ll be late. Trust me, you never want to tick off your hair stylist. Bad things happen.” She shot him a grin and headed to the front. “Shannon, can you please lock up tonight?”

“Sure. No problem.” Shannon waved at her, then went back to standing completely still, blending into the wall. Well, as well as anyone wearing that pastel shade could disappear into a shadowy corner. Odd, for sure. But, she wasn’t the woman who caught and held his attention in the store.

Dark blinked at the girl for a moment more before following Destiny into a tiny office on the other side of the fridge. She opened a bottom drawer, plucked out her purse, and slung the strap over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you in what? An hour and a half at the café?”

“Works for me.”

He watched her stride out the back door like Teddy Roosevelt on his charge up San Juan Hill.

Destiny had gumption and guts. He’d give her that. The rest, including the instant attraction he felt for her, he’d figure out. Eventually.

Right now, he only hoped for two things—one, that his book resided safe and sound at her house. Secondly, that she didn’t cut that beautiful mane off. For he wanted nothing more than to run his hands through the silky strands and inhale the floral scent.