Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Memnon
I was soaking wet and face down in my bed, contemplating the weight required to smother me against these pillows, when I heard the knock on my door. Simbel was at work—hence my long, hot shower—and I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I ignored it.
Maybe it’s Maya .
It wasn’t Maya, I knew that. But the thought of those long legs, and that tousled hair, and the way her lips had curled into that soft smile made my Kteer —and my cock—get involved.
Face down in a bed is not the time you want to get a boner.
Think about something else.
Right. The bloated, gray face of a suffocation victim, his tongue too large for his mouth, his eyes popping out— Yep , there went my hard-on. Remembering various visits to the NYC morgue worked every time.
The knock came again.
I ignored it again.
The third time the unknown knocker pounded on my door, it was accompanied by a yelled, “I’m not going away, Memnon!” At which point, the unknown knocker became a known knocker, and my curse was muffled against the pillow.
Sakkara. Always sticking his nose into other’s business.
By the fourth knock, I figured I was going to have to do something about him. Stupid fucker wouldn’t take a hint and leave me alone.
I knew from experience.
Deciding I didn’t owe him any modesty, I stomped to the front door just as he knocked a fifth time.
“Memnon,” he called in an oh-so-reasonable-voice. “We both have things to do. Come?—”
“What?” I growled, immaturely pleased to interrupt him.
He paused. Then, “Can I come in?”
“No.”
“ Memnon . I’m alone. Your brother is at work. No one is going to see?—”
I yanked the door open.
Look, there are certain universal truths. Taxes, death, the disgustingness of liverwurst, et cetera . And one of the lesser-known truths is: If a wet naked dude opens the door, you’re going to look, no matter how happily Mated you are.
Sakkara looked.
And to give him credit, he didn’t flush, didn’t look away in embarrassment. I was naked, and he called my bluff. His gaze dropped right past my cock and settled briefly on the mass of scars that had once been my right thigh.
Then he skipped his gaze back to mine and lifted a brow, as if to ask, Was that supposed to frighten me away ?
Fuck .
I turned around and stomped back toward my room, muttering under my breath about nosy assholes.
Took my time drying off and getting dressed too. I didn’t blow-dry my hair, but I considered it. My twin brother kept his cut short, and I always claimed that I grew mine out so people could tell us apart…but really, I liked the way it felt like freedom.
Kinda felt like home. Like I was connected to my ancestors in an intangible way. In a way I’d never be able to replicate, because I couldn’t go home?—
Snarling at my reflection, I grabbed an elastic band and wrenched my hair into a wet bun on top of my head. Good enough, and not at all maudlin.
It was a good twenty minutes later when I finally gave up trying to outwait Sakkara. I could hear him out there in the living room—not pacing, not fussing, just being . Being in my space.
I’d shared a womb with Simbel. I’d spent the last decade living in a tiny city apartment with him. I was okay with him being in my space. But other males…?
Scowling, I stomped back into the living room. “What?” I barked.
Sakkara was our D’malk , our chief. He’d led us through the veil to the human’s world—whatever good that had done—and had kept us connected since then. When the opportunity arose to move to Eastshore Isle, he’d reached out to each of us and gathered us here.
And now he’d been elected mayor, which meant even the humans could see his leadership potential.
I had to admit, sitting there in that tailored suit, scrolling on his phone, he looked far more urbane than someone like me would ever want to be. I saw him finish typing something, then he stood, his attention split between the phone and me.
“Sorry,” he said a little distractedly, waggling the phone. “Just finishing up some—I’ve almost finished negotiations with another group. It’ll be good to have more of us here on Eastshore.”
More orcs were coming ?
I wanted to ask, but then I remembered that I was supposed to be irritated at him.
Sakkara didn’t notice my rudeness, or didn’t care. He slid his phone into the pocket of his jacket, then turned his full attention to me with a bright, expectant smile.
As if this were a social meeting and I hadn’t kept him waiting out of spite.
Grow up, you idiot.
Sighing, I stomped—maybe a little less forcefully—toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?” I growled, as politely as I could manage.
Sakkara seemed surprised when he responded, “Thank you, no. I have a dinner date with my daughter and Mate.”
I hesitated at the door to the fridge, staring at the bright light. “How is…is Emmy okay? No…nightmares?”
I didn’t know a damn thing about little kids. But I knew a lot about the dark side of humanity. I’d spent the last decade fishing bodies out of the East River and trunks of SUVs and everything in between.
And I knew about nightmares.
Behind me, I heard Sakkara move quietly to stand in the kitchen doorway. “She’s fine,” he said softly. “We haven’t seen any evidence that she remembers what happened at all or really understood it.”
At Christmas, Simbel and I came to Eastshore. The excuse we gave was Sakkara’s invite, which was handy, but really, we were there following an asshole who’d skipped parole. He was one of the worst—an evil man who thought he was charming—and we knew he was coming after Nikki, Sakkara’s Mate.
Simbel kept Emmy safe while I did my best to distract the perp until Sakkara could show up and nearly rip him a new one.
Unfortunately, I got myself shot for my troubles.
All in a day’s work, huh? At least Emmy and Nikki were safe.
“Good,” I said roughly, and grabbed a beer.
I closed the fridge with my hip as I turned to glare. “Why are you here?”
“Does your downstairs neighbor mind you stomping around up here?”
The question—and reference to Maya—was so unexpected, I reared back, beer bottle halfway to my lips. “ What ?”
“Maya Locklear.” Sakkara tipped his head to one side, as if I didn’t know where downstairs was, and crossed his arms. “Does she ever complain about you stomping? Just wondering.”
From the way his eyes were crinkling, he was trying to hide a smirk as he leaned against the door jamb.
Trying to hide how flustered I was by the mention of her , I sipped my beer.
“Do you have a lot of contact with her?” Sakkara asked, obviously trying some kind of conversation gambit. “You’re her landlord, right?”
“She doesn’t know my LLC bought the building,” I snapped. “Get to the point, Sakkara.”
He studied me for a moment, then exhaled and nodded. “Maya needs you.”
Well that reached right past my throat and down to my chest and wrapped hard around my heart and pulled . I forced myself to settle back against the counter, then tried to convince my cock to stay out of the conversation.
My Kteer was already involved.
Help help help .
If she needed me… “What are you talking about?” I’d seen her last night. She looked fine to me. More than fine. Sleepy, maybe, but damn fine. “What’s wrong with her?”
Sakkara sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You know the big renovation project we’re doing on the public grounds? Eastshore doesn’t really have a parks department, but we have the budget. The Town Council voted to award her the contract to landscape the park, and a few other public spots.”
I knew this. Despite my best efforts to remain aloof from life on Eastshore, Simbel liked to blather at dinner. And Sakkara had been pretty excited about the renovations, seeing it as his way to improve the town.
How does she need me ?
I gestured to him to continue, using my bottle.
“Have you seen her, Memnon?”
Uh… obviously. I saw her in my sleep sometimes. Those long legs, that thick dark hair that reminded me of home, the scent of sunshine and healthy soil… Gods of the ancestors, I was fucked in the head .
But I only growled, “Yes, I’ve seen her .”
“She’s not built for heavy labor.”
My Kteer bristled at the sound of another male noticing how she was built . “She’s built to do anything she damn well wants to do, Sakkara.”
One of his brows twitched, and he inclined his head, as if awarding me a point. “If she has to do this landscaping alone, though, it’s going to take her ages. She has an assistant in the shop, but the longer she’s away…”
“So she can hire someone,” I snapped.
“Someone big and capable of wielding a shovel?” he shot right back at me in challenge. “Some male working with her?” Before I could process why I hated that, he sighed again. “She’s been trying. Haven’t you seen her Help Wanted flyers around town?”
I eyed him cautiously, not sure if I wanted to admit I rarely walked down Main Street. The back alley was private and quiet, good enough for me. Instead of answering, I sipped my beer.
“If you go to work for her—” he began, and I interrupted.
“I don’t want to wield a shovel , for fuck’s sake.” Lie. “I don’t want to be her partner.” Another lie.
He paused, studying me. “You own the building. Not her business, but you own the property her business is on. You could argue that makes you her boss.”
Well I wanted that even less. “I don’t want anyone relying on me ever again. That’s why I quit the force and moved here.
“Where you could be alone, keeping everyone out, even your brother?”
“Simbel lives with me.”
Sakkara shook his head. “He might live here, but you haven’t let him in. Besides, we can all see he’s found his Mate, even if it’ll take her some convincing. Eastshore Oyster Festival is this weekend, and the groundbreaking is Monday. Simbel will be there with his new Mate, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he moves in with her soon after.”
The prediction hit me in the gut, and I drank more beer to cover it.
Simbel. Mated .
I mean, don’t get me wrong; I saw it coming a mile away. The way his eyes would glow whenever he talked about her, the goofy grin he’d wear when she called…yeah, Rissa is his Mate. I hadn’t had any plans to attend the Festival, but maybe I should, just to meet her.
Sakkara straightened away from the door. “You say you don’t want anyone relying on you, but it’s in your nature to protect , Memnon. That’s why you’ve been so miserable.”
That hit a little too close to home.
“I’ve been miserable because I got shot defending your Mate!” I slung back at him.
He inclined his head, awarding me another hit, and dropped his hands to smooth his jacket. “See? You are a protector, T’mak .” Little brother . Sakkara thought of almost everyone else as younger than him, since he was our leader. “And if you won’t be her boss, then you need to be her employee.”
“I don’t need a job.” I’d been shot in the line of duty, so I had a hefty pension, plus the significant investments Sakkara had made for us all after the government paid us that hush money when we left their facilities. “I’m happy as I am.”
“Are you?” Sakkara shrugged, then turned. “I hope to see you at the Festival.”
I didn’t answer.
At the door, he paused and said over his shoulder, “Maya needs you, Memnon. She’s part of your responsibility, and she needs you. You have to help her, because you’re the only one of us who can.”
With those matter-of-fact, oh-so-certain words, Sakkara let himself out of my life.
“ Fuck .”
I resisted the urge to throw the bottle at the door, and downed the rest of the beer.
It didn’t help.
I could still hear his words. Maya needs you. You have to help her
My Kteer very much liked the sound of that. Helping her, saving her, protecting her.
Stupid fucking Kteer . Stupid fucking instincts. They already got me shot once.
Oh, stop being so dramatic. It’s just digging some holes. Planting some plants, moving some dirt and rocks.
I winced, remembering my middle-of-the-night exercises in the back stairwell. I hated physical therapy and the smarmy know-it-all therapist. I was willing to work out, even if it hurt, because I knew I was getting stronger and more agile.
Working in the dirt would help you heal .
And I had to admit, I missed getting my hands dirty, being in nature. My people called it havaant , that burst of energy you got from sinking your toes into dirt and your fingers into something growing, tipping your head back to soak in the sunshine.
I stared at the empty bottle. Ten years in the biggest city in America, and now I was craving some nature?
Well, I knew how to accomplish that.
Besides, Maya needed me.
And I would do a fuck of a lot to protect her, even get shot again. Even shovel some dirt.
Looks like you’re going gardening.
I went to toss the bottle in the recycling bin and find my shoes. I guess I had a job interview.