Flirting With Fate by Lexi Ryan

thank you, sir. I’ll stand
until the Keeper joins us.”
    The man chuckled and exchanged a look with the
security men. When he looked back at Bobby his face was hard. “Sit.”
    Bobby swallowed, suddenly realizing he wasn’t
going to get the hero’s welcome he’d anticipated. He lowered himself to the
couch and put the satchel on his lap. He swallowed. “I did as I was asked.”
    The man narrowed his eyes. “Did you?”
    “Yes, sir. I was sent to retrieve the journal and
I did.” He patted the satchel.
    “And did you erase her memory of the journal? Did
you erase her memory of these messages she was finding in its pages?”
    Bobby swallowed. “No, sir. I was interrupted—”
    The man put up a hand. “I don’t take excuses.”
    “Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”
    He leaned forward, studying Bobby’s face. “Do you
know who I am?”
    Bobby shifted his weight, wondering how the hell
he was supposed to answer that question. “No, sir,” he admitted, even though he
was pretty sure that was the wrong answer.
    The man just seemed amused by that, exchanging
smiles with security, but again his chuckle turned to a scowl as soon as he
addressed Bobby again. “Is that it?” he asked, looking at the satchel.
    “Yes, sir.”
    The man ran his hand over his face. “Do you know
why you were chosen for this mission?”
    Bobby looked around, wishing he had a drink of
water. He tugged at his shirt collar. “Because of my ability, sir.”
    “Yes.” The intensity of his glare left Bobby’s
face feeling scorched. “You were not chosen for your brute strength. Had I
known that you had no finesse, you’d have never been chosen for the job.”
    Had I known. Who did this guy think he was?
    The answer came to Bobby right on the heels of the
question. Oh, fuck. “You’re the—? I thought you were supposed to be—” He
swallowed.
    “Old?” the Keeper supplied.
    Bobby knew he shouldn’t respond. “I apologize,
sir, if there was a misunderstanding. I was under the impression that I was to
get the journal by any means—” His words were cut off when the Keeper lifted
his hand and at the same time, Bobby’s airflow was cut off.
    “You risked everything tonight. You understand?
Everything. The Keys are not to be harmed. Without them, forty years of
planning and twenty-seven years of careful, tireless implementation are wasted.
You understand?”
    The grip at his neck tightened, making Bobby gag
as he sought breath. Instinctively, Bobby’s fingers went to his neck, but there
was nothing there to pull away. He couldn’t stop the man from choking him.
    “You had a simple task. Get the journal and make
the girl forget she’d ever had it.” The man stood and released his mental hold.
    Bobby gasped air into his lungs again. It felt as
painful as it did glorious.
    The Keeper flicked his wrist and suddenly the
satchel was in his hands. “You’ve served your purpose,” he said, opening the
bag. His head snapped up and, again, his mental hold was at Bobby’s neck.
“Where is it?”
    Bobby motioned wildly to the bag, but he couldn’t
form words, couldn’t breathe.
    “You failed on all counts,” the Keeper said. “I
don’t tolerate failure.” He turned to the guards and said, “Give him to someone
who can use his power.”
    Free to breathe again, Bobby choked out, “But I—”
The words scraped his bruised throat and security cut him off, dragging him out
of the room.
    Why wasn’t the journal in the bag? He hadn’t let the
bag out of his sight.

***
    When Josie awoke, she was in her bed, and dusk was
falling outside her window.
    She sat up and rubbed her eyes. From a chair next
to the bed, Tanner stirred, bare-chested and beautiful.
    She smiled. Some people didn’t like the word beautiful
for men, but a body like Tanner’s made every other word fall short. He was tall
and lean but sculpted. She wanted to feel those hard planes of muscle under her
hands. She was ready to know what it was like to run her nails