He looked up. She stood there, her blond hair falling around her face and down her back like a waterfall, and her blue eyes like two beautiful jewels glowing at him. She was so beautiful, she seemed to shine from the inside out. She stood in front of him, palm curving around the nape of his neck so gently. She leaned down and then she was kissing him. Taking his breath. Taking away the worst thoughts, forcing them out of his head to make room for her. She tasted sweet—so sweet. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down onto his lap. He took over kissing her, letting the fire consume him, knowing it was dangerous to both of them when they were in public, but he needed her. She gave him everything.
The front door was just to the left of the lobby and it opened, the breeze from outside slipping in to ease the heat rising so fast between them. Or maybe it fanned the flames further. Malichai deepened the kiss, his tongue dueling with hers, a tango of fire—
Amaryllis cried out, the sound pouring down his throat, a scream of fear, of pain, of despair. Her body jerked backward, off of him, onto the floor. A huge man stood over her, his face a mask of pure anger, twisted into something evil as he pulled her backward toward the door by her hair. She had both hands up around her hair to try to ease the terrible pressure on her scalp as she scrambled to try to get her feet under her. Her assailant was dragging her too fast.
“What the fuck, you cheating bitch? You think you can run away from me? I told you I would find you anywhere. I’m not alone this time, and your little fuck buddy is a dead man.”
Malichai knew immediately who he was dealing with. He had known Owen Starks before he ever went to work for Whitney. He sent the appropriate SOS to his teammates, especially in light of Starks’s declaration that he wasn’t alone.
He sprang from the chair, using enhanced strength, uncaring who might see him. Both knees bent to his chest, he flew across the room. At the last possible second, his legs shot out, his boots slamming into Owen’s chest, with the force of what had to feel like a freight train. The blow drove the man back so hard he hit the wall, actually splintering the wood. The thud was loud, the force of the jolt shaking the entire house. Two pictures came crashing down, glass shattering across the floor.
Amaryllis staggered to her feet and rushed to Malichai, trying to drag him away. “We have to go. You can’t fight him. Really, you can’t fight any of them. They have some kind of armor.”
Malichai was well aware that Whitney had been experimenting on his supersoldiers. Owen had a thin steel-like plate either beneath his clothing or beneath his skin, but the armor was much like Cayenne’s silken shield. When he’d kicked Owen, he’d felt the shock of it rush right back up his body. He’d luckily landed on his feet, but his leg was shaky.
He’d run into Whitney’s supersoldiers before. They rarely lasted long, certainly not the five years Amaryllis had said Owen had worked for Whitney. They were tough and they were jacked up. “I want you to go to Trap and Cayenne. Stay there until I come for you.” He made it an order. She’d told him there was some kind of reason she couldn’t kill Owen Starks. She didn’t know why, but he was fairly certain Whitney had made it impossible.
“Honey, if you stay here and fight, I’m staying with you.” Amaryllis didn’t look at him, only at Owen as he lumbered to his feet, shaking his head and rubbing his chest.
He barely glanced at Malichai. His gaze kept straying to Amaryllis as if he couldn’t help himself, or as if he didn’t think Malichai was any threat to him. That puzzled Malichai. They knew each other. They’d met. He would have known Malichai was a huge threat.
“Come with me now.”
She shook her head. “You hurt me. I’m not going anywhere near you.”
“You deserved what you got. Whitney wants you back. You belong to me and you know it. If you care for one single person at this place, you’ll come back; otherwise, there’s going to be a lot of dead people here.”
Malichai knew most of the guests would be returning in another hour if they kept to their usual patterns. He took a few steps to his right to see if that would draw Owen’s full attention. So far, Owen didn’t seem to recognize him. Owen had always been a smart man. Quick on his feet. Huge ego. He would take in everything and everyone. He wouldn’t miss the fact that his opponent was Malichai Fortunes. They had a past. Malichai had a reputation—an even larger one than Owen. Something wasn’t right.
The door banged open hard enough that it rocked on its hinges. A very large man filled the doorway. He looked first at Amaryllis, and then his gaze shifted to Malichai. Amaryllis made a single sound of distress and caught at the back of Malichai’s shirt, tugging, trying to drag him backward away from the two huge men—men who appeared to be twins. Men who looked exactly alike. Owen Starks didn’t have a twin, but this man was an exact replica, right down to the tiny little scar that dissected his eyebrow.
“This isn’t good,” Gino said, as he joined Malichai. “Are there any others?”
“I’ve got that feeling in my gut that says yes,” Malichai said.
Gino turned, his gaze running over Amaryllis. “You should get to Cayenne and Trap.”
He made it sound like Cayenne might need Amaryllis, and Malichai was grateful for that. In truth, Cayenne was lethal as hell and she would protect Amaryllis.
“I’m not leaving Malichai. In any case, have you noticed, I’m a bit of a distraction? I’m betting when the real deal walks in, I won’t be. That’s how you’re going to know the difference.”
Malichai wanted her gone, but he also wanted to get Whitney’s clone supersoldiers out of Marie’s beautiful home before it was destroyed. He had to get past the goon filling the doorway. She was being stubborn, refusing to retreat. He took another step to his right, sliding his bad leg and struggling to keep from wincing. His opponents would find out soon enough that he had a weakness.
“Amaryllis, come here,” the soldier in the doorway said and snapped his fingers at her, as if that would make her mind him.
“That’s not going to happen,” Malichai said very quietly. “Amaryllis is engaged to me. We’re getting married in a few days. You need to tell Whitney to back off.”
“Fuck Whitney. Amaryllis is mine. She had no business running off. You need to mind your own business before you get hurt.”
Owen the first continued to shake his head and rub his chest. He didn’t look at Malichai as he took several steps toward Amaryllis. His brows came together, and his mouth twisted into a frown. “It doesn’t have to be this way, Amaryllis. No one has to get hurt.”
“I’ll take this one,” Gino said. “He looks bigger and I haven’t had much to eat today. You can have number two in the doorway.” He cracked his knuckles and grinned.
We need to get them outside of the house if possible. This is going to get nasty, Malichai said. If any more show up, we’ll need reinforcements.
He nodded at Gino, skirting around Owen the first, who barely glanced at him. Owen the second continued to be conflicted, not moving from the doorway but going back and forth between staring at Amaryllis as if his life depended on it and flicking his gaze at Malichai from time to time.
Malichai heard the thud of fists as Gino attacked behind him, galvanizing him into action. He hit Owen the second much the same way he’d done Owen the first, wanting to knock him out of the doorway. As his boots hit the second supersoldier square in the chest, he heard Amaryllis cry out. It was a gasping, mewling sound, not loud.