Zeke Miller gritted his teeth and inhaled the humid evening air as he crossed the dirty asphalt lot in front of the campus. Just three more days of this hell, then I can return home. No more slackers, assholes, or whiny females. He grinned delightedly at the thought of failing every last one of them and returning to the Peruvian ruins he called home. He abhorred being a professor. The museum demanded he teach a semester of archeology courses or they would pull the funding for his dig. Otherwise, he wouldn't bother with the simpering adolescents he taught.

Not that we've found anything at the dig-site in the last couple of years. That's what I get for signing on before realizing I wasn't going to head up the dig myself. We should have found something by now. Maybe I should leave? I don't do much there except argue with the foreman. Wonder what endeavors other museums are proposing?

"Dr. Miller?" The honey-and-cream voice sent a shiver down his spine as his head jerked up. He realized he was standing next to his truck. He'd been staring at the streetlamp blankly, too. Sometimes, he cursed being the embodiment of the stereotypical absent-minded professor.

Standing on the other side of the hood was a woman straight out of fantasy. Straight, waist-length raven hair, high cheekbones, and lips made for kissing. Dark sunglasses obscured her eyes, and a ruby halter top hugged her curvaceous figure like a lover. He couldn't see the rest of her five-foot frame past the hood, but what was visible screamed sex.

"W-what?" He stuttered, confused.

Why is this goddess talking to me? He wondered as he felt his blood surge and his heart leap. He'd never reacted to a gorgeous woman like that before--and he had met his share of beautiful women.

"Dr. Zeke Miller, the archeologist with an expertise in antiquities? You also have a degree in anthropology, and your father is the renowned archeologist, Dr. John Miller. You are that Dr. Miller, correct?" Her dulcet tone rolled through his veins, lighting them afire.

"Yes..." he said cautiously. Though, John is more infamous than renowned, he thought, eyeing the raven-goddess warily.

A lot of unsavory characters traveled in his father's circles. It wouldn't be the first time one of his old man's enemies tried to use him to get to John. Though, it was the first time they'd sent a seductress.

"My name is Erza Leonidas. I have a proposition for you. Could we go someplace quiet to talk? Perhaps we can have a chat in the University's library?" She turned back to the red brick buildings behind her, not waiting for his answer. Then again, the two hulking guys who suddenly grabbed his arms and towed him after her were probably answer enough.

Damn it all to hell, John! What have you dragged me into this time, you scumbag?

*****

Erza rubbed at a strangely painful spot over her heart as she walked. She didn't speak; she needed time to collect herself before facing the archeologist again.

Dr. Zeke Miller was six feet of muscle packed in a lithe frame. His brown hair brushed his shoulders and emphasized a strong jaw. Broad shoulders tapered to narrow hips and thick thighs. A five o'clock shadow darkened his jaw, giving his features a rugged cast. His silver flecked hazel eyes made her blood...crackle? Sizzle? She didn't know, but it was damned uncomfortable.

The private library's door opened, and Vladimir bowed as she entered the dusty, stale room. She ignored the butler's subservient action, knowing he only did it to piss her off. He was angry because he'd drawn the short straw and had to guard the room while she went off to meet their reluctant guest. Every time Vladimir was forced to be away from her, he spent a week pouting and throwing little fits. After centuries together, one would think the man would grow up a little.

She leaned against one of the many mahogany tables and considered how much to tell Zeke about their plight. Could he handle the whole truth, or should she follow Roderick's advice and keep it simple?

"You know, fellas, I do have working legs. I assure you, I can walk on my own. I've been doing it for nearly thirty years, now."

Zeke's gravelly voice caused her blood to do that strange fizzle-pop again. She frowned as she rubbed the spot over her heart once more, thankful for the room's cool air against her heated skin.

"Forgive me. I'm being rude. Guys, let him go, and I'll introduce everyone," she said, hoping such formalities would give her enough time to decide. She rested her hand on a thin shoulder and said, "This gentleman is Vladimir Vulpiano, Master Butler and hand-to-hand combat extraordinaire. So whatever you do, don't shorten his name unless you want your ass handed to you on a perfectly polished silver platter. He's got one hell of a temper but makes the best lemon meringue pie in the world, and his pot roast is worth murdering for."

Fifteen years her senior, Vladimir looked every bit of his four-hundred and fifteen years...and had since birth. He wore the Victorian styles of a waistcoat and tails and bound his long silver hair in a queue at the base of his neck. He looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over, but he could actually beat all of them in a fight...at the same time, probably.

"I'm only a gentleman when I need to be, brat, and don't you forget it." Vladimir's light voice wobbled with age and affection. Erza never knew when he would act as her annoying older brother, father, or butler. She loved trying to guess which attitude he'd use next. She pinched his arm lightly and chuckled at his resulting glare.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vulpiano. If you would like, I would enjoy sparring with you sometime, though I'm afraid academia has made my skills rusty," Zeke said, extending his hand.

"Okay, on to the next person. You ladies can compare cup sizes later," Erza said, slapping a hand over Vladimir's mouth before he could start an endless discussion on fighting styles. She needed time to think, but they didn't have that much time!

"This guy," she said, jerking a thumb to her left, "is Faolan Hesketh. He's the youngest and newest of our group, having joined us only a few years ago. While a technological genius, his attitude sucks. It's that rebellious teen phase, though he hasn't been a teen in a good many years. Also, he's a vegetarian, so don't offer him a beef stick or anything; he's touchy about it."

Faolan had inherited the position of Warrior after his father, Michael Hesketh, died on one of their missions. Only one hundred and fifty years old, Faolan stood six and-a-half feet tall and sported broad shoulders, narrow hips, and hard brown eyes in a chiseled face. His short, tawny hair fell in a mess over his eyes; she didn't think he'd ever heard of a brush. Erza envied his latté colored skin, though. Her pasty complexion always fried within seconds of going outside.

"What the hell, Erza? You never said anything about sharing our life stories with a human. Screw this, I'm out of here." Faolan's palm slapped the table as he shoved himself out of his chair. Erza heard a whiz and saw a long, thin knife vibrate between Faolan's fingers. She followed the angle of the blade to Roderick's outstretched hand.

"You do not speak to your Regina like that. Sit. Do not question her again; you have not earned that right," Roderick growled. The glares shared between the two men foretold of a coming altercation.

"We will discuss this at home. Behave!" Erza hissed to her Warriors, darting a glance at Zeke.

Zeke didn't seem to be paying attention to their argument, however. His eyes narrowed and focused on something behind her. He jerked. Erza's cheek suddenly stung when she heard a thump just beyond her right ear.

Instantly, Vladimir had Zeke pinned to the wall with a hand on the younger man's throat.

"You dare to attack my Regina? Worthless human, you will die for that."

Vladimir reached for the dagger at his waist, but Zeke snatched it out of the butler's sheath, throwing it end over end toward Erza's left foot. She jumped aside and stared, astonished at the wriggling mass impaled by the weapon. Zeke hadn't been aiming for her but for the venomous Asp. She checked the wall behind her, and sure enough, a cottonmouth hung limp from a knife nailing its skull to the wall.

"Vladimir, drop him," she said absently studying the dead reptiles. The two creatures shared a strange marking on their heads.

"Regina, he tried to kill you. I will not let him go," Vladimir argued.

"That man saved my life twice in the last minute. I order you to release him," she snapped, turning back to her obstinate butler to make sure he followed orders this time.

"He what?" Vladimir's head jerked toward her. Only after following Erza's outstretched finger did he release Zeke. "My apologies, Dr. Miller. Thank you, for helping Erza," Vladimir said, bowing slightly, his voice bland as he stared at the once deadly corpses.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"No problem," Zeke gasped between coughs, "but we need to get out of here before the rest of them show up."

"What do you mean, 'rest'?" Faolan asked, drawing the pistol hidden in the small of his back and studying the darkened corners of the room.

"The mark on their heads, it's my father's. Look, I'll help you with whatever it is you need me to do. If John wants you dead, then I want you alive. Shit, I'll explain later, let's just go before we're devoured."

Zeke shoved out of his crouch and grabbed her hand. Her skin warmed, and her blood sparked in her veins. Erza rubbed her chest as her heart prickled. He dragged her back to the door and carefully glanced down the hall.

"Um... did anyone think to check for a second way out of here?" he asked.

"Why, what's... Oh, shit." Erza didn't believe what her eyes were showing her. Serpents slithered along the stone floor, climbed the brick walls, and fell from the paneled ceiling in undulating waves. It's like some B-rated movie just came to life right in front of me, she thought.

Zeke shoved her back and slammed the door closed as a giant anaconda lurched ahead of the mass. Great, not only are there poisonous snakes, but ones that can swallow me whole, too. Yep, my night just can't get any worse, Erza thought.

"Faolan, time to go to work. We need a House Special, pronto!" Erza called, palming her own daggers and wishing fervently for her katana. The one time I leave home without it. Never again. Hell, if it weren't for my circumstances, I'd sleep with it on, she berated herself.

Faolan studied the conditions of the hall through a crack in the door and shot her a wicked grin. This is going to be messy, she thought.

"This is going to be fun!" the young warrior said, excitement turning his eyes dark amber. He pulled an old, weathered backpack off his shoulder and withdrew a black tube with white caps on either end. "Okay, everyone, stand on the right side of the door. Unless you have a death wish, of course, then feel free to stand on the left," he instructed.

Everyone rushed to obey. Except Zeke, who frowned and looked back and forth from the tube, to Faolan, to the door. Erza grabbed his hand and yanked him over to her. For a professor, he sure was stupid.

"Fire in the hole!" Faolan cackled as he swiftly lit the fuse hanging from one of the white caps and chucked the homemade bomb into the hall. He snapped the door shut, put his hands over his ears, and started counting.

He made it to ten red Ferraris before the entire left wall blew inward with a deafening roar. Sheetrock, brick, and snake chunks scattered across the floor. Concrete and plaster dust choked her and burned her eyes. She couldn't imagine the pain the men were suffering since she was the only one sporting anything resembling protective eyewear...

"That," Roderick gasped, helping Lucius to his feet, "was not a House Special."

Faolan scribbled in a small notebook. He squinted a bit but was otherwise a picture of calm amidst the chaos he'd created. "Nope," he said, "that was a new recipe I needed to test. A little modification is needed before it's ready to use in a live combat situation."

"A bomb? The House Special was a bomb?" Zeke croaked through a wracking cough. Poor guy, his throat and lungs are taking a beating tonight, Erza thought. Breathing shallowly, she helped the good doctor to his feet and smacked the dust off his back.

"That wasn't the House Special. I'm thinking of calling it the Chef's Surprise," Faolan replied, still scrawling in his notepad.

Erza saw Vladimir spit dirt and grime to the floor before stalking toward the Horse with deadly intent. She rolled her eyes and turned away, ignoring the sound of Vladimir's fists smacking into Faolan's soft flesh. Sometimes, it was good to let the men vent their frustrations on each other.

"I forgot to mention. Faolan also loves cars, guns, and he's our demolitions expert," Erza said, straining to see through the dust beyond the large hole in the wall.

"Demolitions expert? You mean he works with explosives? Just who the hell are you people?" Zeke demanded, his face turning an interesting shade of tomato.

"We'll swap back stories when we reach the manor. At the moment, it's the only place I consider remotely safe," Erza replied. "Rick, take point. Faolan, follow him closely. The professor and I will be right behind you. Vladimir and Lucius will watch our backs. Let's move."

They sped down the corridor, glistening ruby blood and entrails raining down on them. Ugh. Not how I wanted to spend my night, she thought.

Erza darted around chunks of giant snakes, dragging Zeke after her. She wasn't letting him out of her sight. She wanted to know how he knew the snakes were from his father and why the man wanted her dead. She wasn't stupid. Those snakes could have gone after anyone in that library, but they'd both targeted her. She knew she'd seen the symbol on their heads before; she just couldn't place it. A circle surrounding a snake forming the letter 'N.' Where had she seen it?

Silver flashed before her eyes, jerking her from her thoughts. A viper's decapitated body writhed on the ground at her feet.

"Pay attention, woman! A single bite from any one of these means death!" Zeke snapped, surging to the fore and dragging her along.

Damn, he's fast with a blade! She thought, feeling a thrilling sensation somewhere deep in her belly.

She slammed into his back when he suddenly stopped; nearly taking them both to the floor.

"Shiiiiiiit..." He drew the word out as he slowly backed up.

That doesn't sound good. Erza pushed up on her toes to glimpse the intersecting corridor beyond his tall frame. More serpents streamed toward them. She was strangely reminded of a tsunami.

"Faolan, I think another Chef's Surprise is needed," she said, searching the hall for a place to take cover.

"Sorry, E. All I've got left are a couple of House Specials and a few Fishing Lures. None of them would even make a dent in that," Faolan answered, digging in his pack frantically.

Erza rolled her eyes. The impertinent Colt was the only one to call her 'E'.... and live.

"So light one and throw the whole pack. If one won't do, then many should at least faze them," Zeke said, still slowly backing them up.

Faolan stared at Zeke aghast, "You really don't want to do that with a House Special in the mix. The resulting explosion could incinerate the building...and us with it!"

Erza's gaze snagged on the shining reflection of the hall in a window fifty feet back the way they'd come.

"Faolan, make the fuse long enough for us to get out of here and gain some distance. Then toss the whole bag. We're taking the window exit, boys."

Snagging Vladimir and Zeke's hands, Erza dashed to the window. Shattered glass rained down upon their heads when her sturdy boots connected with the pane. She threw Vladimir through, glad of his ancient body's slight weight. Zeke, however, didn't wait for her to take another breath. He picked her up and tossed her outside.

Gravel burrowed beneath her skin as her palms kept her from face-planting on the hard path. She rolled to avoid getting a pair of boots implanted in her spine as Lucius landed in the spot she'd just occupied. He shot her an apologetic glance as he hauled her to her feet and brushed the grit from her hands. She shrugged in reply. He grinned and nodded. Sometimes, she loved his silent way of communicating.

Several thuds announced the arrival of the rest of their group. Her gaze touched on each of them, counting. She was thrown for a moment when she counted five, until she remembered that she would make their number six. Sometimes her brain just stopped functioning on all cylinders.

"Don't just stand there, run!" Faolan yelled, already yards ahead of them. Erza stopped, puzzled for a moment when she saw his ratty backpack bouncing on his back. She filed her questions away for another time.

She grabbed a pair of hands and charged across the sloping lawn toward the parking lot. Safety kept running through her mind. Too bad she didn't consider anywhere safe. Terrain she knew was better than a stranger's turf, so the manor she currently lived in would probably do.

A thunderous roar pierced her ears as the ground heaved, knocking Erza to her knees. Suddenly, a heavy weight landed on her back, shoving her face into the dirt and forcing the air out of her lungs. She struggled to take a breath, but whatever had her pinned wouldn't let her chest expand. Wonderful. Will I run out of oxygen or be crushed to death first? She wondered.

She finally noticed the various aches across her body. Her hip and calf stung the worst, though. Absolutely perfect. Not only am I going to die slowly but in agony. I've got to quit thinking my night can't get any worse.

When the ringing in her ears subsided, she realized that the roar of the explosion was gone. The crackle of flames had taken its place. The object on top of her moved, proving to be a person.

The person turned out to be Zeke. He rolled aside, allowing her a lungful of air. She choked on the acrid smoke and coughed. Stupid air, it's supposed to be fresh and crisp and revitalizing, she thought, as the scent of roasting meat wafted to her nose. Curiously, the smell of cooked snake made her mouth water. No freaking way am I eating snake in this day and age. She shuddered.

"Anyone dead better speak up now," she gasped around a mouth full of dirt.

"Not getting rid of us that easily, Regina," Roderick's burr sounded beyond the veil of dust to her left.

"Darn. Guess I'm not trying hard enough," she teased, finally working her way to a standing position.

"We need to get out of here. There'll be police swarming this place any minute," Faolan called from ahead. She saw him shrug his pack more firmly onto his shoulder.

Didn't he toss that thing...? She took a moment to figure it out but decided her brain was too exhausted to tangle with such a mystery as their resident Colt.

"Right. Those who are able, help the injured. Dr. Miller," Erza's voice hardened into her queen's tone. The one she used on argumentative nobles. "Looks like we both have some explaining to do. Please come with us. At this point, I'm afraid saying no is not an option."

Zeke winced as he struggled to his feet. She didn't offer a hand to help him up. After their welcome, she wasn't sure she trusted him.

"I kind of figured that," he said, his face pale and pinched. "Let me just say, any enemy of my father's is a friend of mine."

She wanted to question him, but the distant sound of sirens reminded her of the need for haste. "We can have a tea party and discuss the whole thing," she said, striding away from the debris-riddled lawn. She prayed their car hadn't been fried by the explosions.