Brisa gave herself a mental kick. She had to stop thinking about sex with Darius. Tomorrow, she’d keep herself under control long enough to find out more about the man who’d asked her out. Rushing into intimacy didn’t necessarily mean a relationship would work out. Oh who was she kidding? If Darius put the moves on her again like he’d done back in the parking lot, she wouldn’t be able to resist. He was just too gorgeous and made her want to jump his bones every time she looked at him.
The following morning Darius awoke looking forward to what the day would bring for the first time in a long while. Being immortal, he’d started to lose interest in the people and places around him. He did his job each night as one of Anubis’ warriors, but had long since stopped associating with mortals. Their lifespans seemed too short. Eighty years was nothing to him. And what family he’d had before he’d gone on crusade, he’d never kept track of. Having never married or had children, he’d thought it best to stay away from the land of his birth.
After eating a late breakfast, he took a shower. That done, Darius stood in front of the steamed mirror with a towel wrapped around his hips. He used a small hand towel to clear some of the glass in front of him so he could shave. His gaze landed on the mark the god of the underworld had placed on him once Darius had taken his vow to become one of his warriors. It was situated on his chest, over his heart. It was a picture of Anubis with a jackal’s head. In one hand he held an ankh while in the other was a flail. The whole thing was inside a cartouche, colored black.
Darius picked up his razor and proceeded to shave off the stubble that was a shade darker than the hair on his head. He combed his hair and left it to dry by itself. After stepping into his bedroom, he headed for his closet. He frowned when he found nothing but jeans and jackets that were leather and denim. Without having to look, he knew the rest of his wardrobe would consist of t-shirts and long-sleeved ones. He didn’t have anything that would be considered “dressy”.
Figuring there wasn’t much he could do about it now, Darius pulled out a pair of blue jeans from the closet before he picked a light-gray t-shirt from the dresser. Once clothed, he sat on the bed and put on his shoes. As he did so, he thought of what he wanted to do with Brisa that day, besides thinking about getting her in bed. He’d never “dated” anyone before. When he’d been mortal, there had been no such thing. There’d been more arranged marriages than not. At least that was the case in his station. His father had been a knight, as had Darius. He still had his armor, sword and spurs to prove it.
Before leaving his bedroom, Darius picked up the piece of paper he’d taken out of his pants pocket when he’d changed out of his clothes the night before. He stared at Brisa’s handwriting. It was small and neat, unlike his hen scratching. He’d had a minimal amount of education when growing up. Learning how to read and write hadn’t been part of it. He’d had to learn in the years after becoming immortal.
He headed down the stairs and into his living room. His cell phone sat on an end table, charging. Like Brisa, he didn’t have a landline. He liked to keep a minimal paper trail, since every thirty years or so he had to change his identity. The only pain in the ass side effect of never aging in this day and age. It wasn’t like the old days where he could just move to another city or country and be done with it, keeping his same name.
Darius unplugged his cell and pocketed it, then went to the room that was meant to be a den. Inside, there was a mini-temple he’d created for Anubis with religious pieces to the god of the underworld that Darius had picked up in Egypt shortly after he’d taken his vow. Through worshipping Anubis, Darius kept the link between them strong. That way he could call upon the god whenever he needed him.
After going through his morning ritual, and placing a bit of beer and bread on the altar in offering for Anubis, Darius left the room and closed the door behind him. Back in the living room, he sat on the black leather couch. He took out his cell and the piece of paper with Brisa’s number on it. It was already after twelve.
He added the number to his list of contacts first before he called. Brisa picked up after the third ring.
“Hi, Brisa. It’s Darius.”
“Hi,” she said in return.
“Are we still on for today?”
“Yes. I just have to be at work by seven, since I work until closing.”
“How about I pick you up and take you to my place, then we can go out for an early dinner before you go into work?”
“Sure, I’d love to. What time will you get here?”
“Whenever you think you’ll be ready.”
“In that case, depending on how far you live from my apartment, give or take a half-hour?”
“Sounds good. What’s your address?”
Brisa gave it to him, then ended the call by saying she was looking forward to seeing him again. Darius added her address where her cell number was stored on his phone. He still had a little time to wait before he could leave to pick her up. It wouldn’t take the full half-hour to reach her apartment from his house.
Once he’d let enough time elapse, Darius walked through the door that connected the three-car garage to the house. With a push of a button on the remote clipped to the driver’s side visor, the large door quietly lifted and Darius backed his car out onto the drive.
It only took him about fifteen minutes or so to reach Brisa’s apartment building. It was situated right downtown, no more than five minutes away from the bar she worked at. Darius parked in the visitors parking out front, then went inside.
He found Brisa’s apartment number and hit the code on the panel inside the vestibule to call up to her place. After telling her he was there, she buzzed him through the secured entrance door. A short elevator ride up, and he was at her door, knocking.
Brisa opened it wide. “Come on in for a minute. I just have to grab my purse.”
As she walked farther into the apartment, Darius stepped inside. He looked around, following Brisa with his gaze. She disappeared into what he assumed was the bedroom. The place was light and airy-looking. She’d gone for colors that were closer to pastels, whereas he was more into the darker tones.
She returned with purse in hand. “Just to forewarn you, I have to be back here to get ready for work by six thirty at the latest.”
He nodded. “That’ll be no problem.”
Brisa walked by him to put on her shoes, and Darius took a deep breath. The scent of her perfume, and one that was uniquely hers, filled his nose. His cock twitched with interest. Just being in the same room with her brought his libido to life.
Once she was ready, he guided her out of the apartment, then outside to his car. So used to not associating with others, Darius had a hard time trying to come up with conversation starters. He glanced over at Brisa and found her looking out the passenger window. The only women he’d let into his life were the ones who were interested in sex, then walking away when it was over.
“So,” he said. “Have you worked at the bar long?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brisa turned her head in his direction. “For a couple of years now. I know most people wouldn’t think being a bartender was that great of a job, but I enjoy it. What about you? What do you do?”
“I guess you could say I work for myself.”
“Doing what?”
“I’m a, ah, bounty hunter.”
In a way, that was what he did. He hunted down the bad guys, only he wasn’t after the ones who had run out on their bail. He was sending them to face their final judgment.
“That has to be an interesting job. You must come across all kinds of people.”
He grinned. “Yes, you could say that I do.”
“And you must be pretty good at it,” Brisa said as she looked out the passenger window again.