I was pretty much running on adrenaline alone at this point. That, and hormones.
Damian’s butler, Flint, appeared in the doorway. “What would you like for lunch, Miss Cross?”
I narrowed my eyes at Flint and glanced over at Damian, who had sat down at his desk. Either the butler was eavesdropping, or he and Damian communicated via telepathy. My stomach grumbled. “I’ll have a cheeseburger if that’s on the menu.”
“Certainly, Miss Cross. Would you like french fries and a chocolate milkshake with that?” the butler asked.
How did he know I liked chocolate milkshakes with my cheeseburgers? I raised an eyebrow at Damian, but he’d turned to his computer and appeared to be totally engrossed in whatever he was looking at. Convenient.
“Sure, that’d be great. Thanks, Flint.”
“Your belongings are still in my room. Make yourself at home,” Damian said to me without looking up as Flint disappeared from the room.
Damian was playing this way too cool, like it was no big deal that I’d used his shower and slept in his bed earlier. It made zero sense because since we’d returned from Bulgaria, he’d been doing everything to push me away. I waited another beat, but Damian didn’t look up from the monitor.
“Right. I’ll see you shortly.” I left him to his business and walked down the hall to his bedroom, suddenly feeling exhausted beyond reason.
Closing the door, I shucked off my shoes and ambled to the bathroom. A shower sounded like the best thing since sliced bread right about now. I stripped my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water ease my tension away.
This felt like heaven.
The only thing missing was Damian. I knew that sounded crazy, but something had changed between us, and I couldn’t help it. I picked up Damian’s loofah and began scrubbing my body.
He’d said that being close to me made his cravings for my magic more intense. That should have filled me with unease. But the painful truth was that his nearness calmed the frenzy of emotions that had, as of late, threatened to break my mind.
Damian grounded me, and as much as my rational mind had warred against my body, I felt safer with him than anybody else.
Ironically, it was that feeling that scared me the most.
I absently scrubbed my body while my mind spun around and around. After about twenty minutes, my skin felt like I’d scraped away my upper epidermis, but my thoughts had finally settled.
Stepping out of the shower, I climbed into a fluffy white robe that was hanging on the back of the door. Because why not?
I brushed my teeth and wrapped my wet hair in a towel, then strolled into Damian’s bedroom. It was immaculate, and Rhia’s weekender bag was on a wooden suitcase rack beside the armoire. I frowned at it and jumped at the knock on the door.
Fates, for someone who’d recently chosen not to live in fear, I was pretty jumpy. “Yes?”
“Your lunch, Miss Cross.” The familiar voice of the butler was muffled through the door. How had he timed that so perfectly?
“Right. Thank you.” Adjusting my robe to make sure nothing was peeping out, I opened the door.
The butler was gone. I glanced down at the tray that had been set before the door. A silver, domed plate cover rested beside a fork and knife, a bottle of ketchup, and a crystal glass filled to the brim with chocolatey goodness and a dollop of whipped cream. My stomach roared.
I scooped up the tray, closed the door with my toe, and beelined to the bed. I groaned as I bit into the cheeseburger. This definitely tasted like heaven. After scarfing down lunch, I barely made it under the covers before falling into a food coma.
I was exhausted but safe and full. I could let myself have one moment.
Snuggling into Damian’s pillows, I breathed in his scent and drifted off as sleep took hold.
16
Damian
I pulled up across the street from Eclipse. In a few hours, there’d be no parking as the city came to life and the bar’s patrons filtered in.
Alastair, the Dockside Boss, had texted me that we needed to talk. In person. If he wanted me to pay his men more money, a phone call probably would have sufficed, so it had to be about the attack.
Either way, I was glad to put some physical distance between Neve and me to sort out my mind.
My feelings for her were clouding my judgement, and it was fucking hard to be in the same room without her signature stirring the beast inside of me.
Sliding the keys in my pocket, I crossed to the single black door that was marked with a white circle and the bar’s name above it. It was famous, but I’d been there only once for a game of poker in one of the private rooms.
Generally, I kept my business out of Dockside.
The hulking bouncer at the front nodded and opened the door for me. The calmness of his signature indicated that he’d recently shifted.
The space smelled of amber and spice and was warmly lit with no windows. A man was setting up the stage for the evening’s show, while another was placing candles on the tables that filled the space.
Clanking bottles drew my attention to the illuminated bar. A woman with a bared midriff was inventorying the rows of liquor bottles stacked three high behind the bar. She spotted me in the mirror and turned.
“I’m here to see Alastair,” I said.
“Malek?” She leaned on the bar top and narrowed her eyes. “He’s waiting for you in the office.”
I followed her gaze to the door with a No Entry sign. I nodded thanks and strode over, opening it.
The alpha looked up from a stack of papers on his solid oak desk. “Damian, thank you for coming on such short notice.”
His hair was peppered gray, and though his signature displayed the alpha status, he looked more tired than when I’d last seen him. He’d led his pack for several decades. That could grind on you.
One reason I preferred to be a lone wolf, so to speak.
“Alastair.” I dipped my head. “Your shifters have proven to be excellent bodyguards. I’ll give them a bonus at the end of their contract. What can I do for you?”
“Good to hear, but that’s not why I’ve summoned you. My wolves caught several demons skulking about our warehouse this morning. And I’ve heard they’ve been active around Magic Side. Am I correct to assume these creatures are related to why you called in my debt?”
I’d helped Alastair negotiate a trade deal with a pack in Turkey last year. He’d repaid the favor by permitting me to hire six of his best guys for Neve’s security detail. The shifters rarely worked with outsiders, but he’d made an exception. They’d be loyal to Alastair, and I knew he wouldn’t work with Matthias – a half demon.
“Correct. To be frank, Magic Side is fucked. The veil to the underworld is weakening and demons are slipping through. The Order caught several this morning as well, and they’ve abducted at least one agent. I’m working on a way to stop this, but it’s a long shot.”
Alastair leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “You smell like you’re telling the truth, Malek. What the hell is going on?”
I gave him some of the details. Nothing about Neve, though I was certain the security team was feeding him plenty of information. He’d work things out sooner or later.
“I see,” Alastair said, after I finished my explanation. “Maybe the pack can help. I don’t want the Dens overrun with hell’s scum. We’ve got enough trouble with the demons up in Midway. I’ll call a meeting with my council and put my wolves on patrol.”
His cellphone vibrated twice, and he answered. “Son.” Anger flashed across the alpha’s face as he listened, and his eyes turned a honey color as they bore into me. “Hold them. We’ll be there in five.”
Sliding his chair back, he stood, his irises now back to their normal blue. “Seems like you’ve got good timing. My son has picked up another two demons, alive this time. How about we take a drive down to the docks?”
Five minutes later, Alastair led me between a series of shipping containers o
n the old docks. The Dockside pack ran the largest shipping business in the Great Lakes, in addition to their establishments in the Dens.
I hadn’t met his son before, but I’d heard he was something of a rogue, preferring to oversee the pack’s ventures outside of the city.
We headed for a gray container sitting on a concrete platform. Its doors were splayed open, and a man stepped out, his signature rolled off him in waves and smelling like pine and forest.
The alpha’s son.
His signature radiated strength. I cast a side glance at Alastair, wondering why he permitted his son to match him in power.
“Jaxson, meet Damian Malek. Damian, my son. Show us what you’ve got.”
I dipped my head to Jaxson. “Nice to finally meet you.”
He stepped off the container’s edge, landing on his feet. He nodded and turned his attention to his father. “Galan and Claire just nabbed four more near Gigi’s. I picked up these two in the Flats. They haven’t said much.”
“I don’t expect they will,” I said. “Some of them might be informants, but most are slipping through the veil from the underworld. They have no real agenda.”
Jaxson’s eyes narrowed in on me as a phone rang nearby. “How do we put a stop to that?”
“Malek’s working an angle. In the meantime, I’m calling a council to assign shifts around the Dens,” Alastair said, climbing into the shipping container and disappearing inside.
A brunette in jeans and a tank top jogged toward us, worry written on her face. “Boss.” She stopped beside Jaxson, and her eyes darted inside the container. Her face flushed when she recognized the alpha inside. “Uh, I mean, Jaxson. Claire just called. Reagan’s been kidnapped.”
“What?” A low growl ripped from Jaxson’s throat and his full signature released. “Who took him?”
The wolves froze. He was going to be one hell of a force to be reckoned with once he became alpha.
Alastair strode forward, seemingly unfazed by his son’s show of power or by the female wolf’s slipup. Perhaps the alpha was preparing to hand over his title soon.
The she-wolf frowned. “Don’t know. Some guy. He showed up out of nowhere, grabbed Reagan, and then disappeared.”
“What did this guy look like?” I hardly had to ask.
The woman took my measure and glanced at Jaxson before proceeding. He nodded, though I could tell none of them trusted me. “Medium build, dark hair, well-dressed, with thick hipster glasses. Not bad looking, but sketchy as all fuck.”
“Matthias.” I tightened my fist until my knuckles cracked. Matthias was going to make the wolves pay for protecting Neve. Or use captives as leverage against them. Either way, it was a message.
“What do you know about this fucker?” Jaxson growled.
“More than I’d like. He’s our target. I’ll do what I can to get your people back.”
“What do you need? The pack will help.” The rage in his voice made my neck hair stand on end.
I glanced at Alastair who stood stoic. “I need to arrange a few things first. Prepare your pack to double-down on the Dens. I’ll be in touch in the morning.”
With that, I left.
Now all I had to do was convince the Order of Angels to work with us. Bile rose in the back of my throat. Would they agree?
No doubt, but the cost would be high.
17
Neve
“Neve.” Damian’s voice drifted through my mind, a warm and fuzzy feeling.
“Mmmhh.” I rolled over and reached out, but my arm flopped onto the empty mattress.
An irrational spark of disappointment panged in my chest.
I peeked an eye open. Damian sat at the foot of the bed in a black long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his forearms. His signature wrapped around me, and I groaned, pulling a pillow over my face. “Were you watching me sleep again?”
“You look so peaceful when you sleep.”
Yeah, when I’m not drooling.
I tossed the pillow aside and sat up. Looking down, I noticed I was still in the bathrobe and naked underneath.
“What time is it?” I said, pulling the collar of the robe closed.
Damian’s eyes tracked my movement. “Just after six p.m.”
“Six!” I threw the covers off and swung my legs over the bed side. “I thought you only had to put a few things in order.”
“I did. But you were sleeping so soundly, I figured our meeting with Nathaniel could wait a few hours.”
Leaning forward, I fumbled through Rhia’s bag and pulled out some fresh undies—not a thong, thank fates—and a black sweater. Not that the clothes I’d had on earlier were dirty, but I didn’t know when I’d have a chance to change again. “Nathaniel, huh?”
Damian was silent, and I knew that conversation was going nowhere.
“An archangel. He was once a brother to me, but I haven’t seen him in decades. Not after I gave up on the cause and parted ways with Matthias.”
My jaw dropped like a brick. He’d actually offered up information about his past, willingly, without torture. Who was this man?
“Will Nathaniel be open to talking?” I asked.
“He’ll likely try to kill me when we show up. But I should be able to strike a deal with him.”
A tightness I didn’t recognize settled in my chest. I shook my head and stood. Damian was way too calm and collected about all of this.
“Should be able to strike a deal? Isn’t defeating demons in the best interest of the angels?”
Damian sighed. “The Watchers take their right to interfere in the world very seriously, and are often reticent to act, preferring to let things play out unless there’s an emergency.”
“But we have an emergency. An army of demons is going to invade Magic Side!”
“Magic Side hasn’t been invaded yet. The problem will be convincing the Watchers to help us strike first. They may consider whatever is happening in Matthias’s Realm of Chaos as outside their jurisdiction.”
“That seems short-sighted.”
“If it’s not already evident from the state of the world around us, angels care little for what is good for people. They’re dispassionate Watchers who simply uphold the laws, content to let the world suffer. It was one of the reasons I rebelled so long ago.”
What exactly had happened to make him fall? I deeply wanted him to open his past to me. I could feel the rage and regret in his voice, and it drew me to him. I placed my hand on his broad chest, desperate to connect with him and soothe his pain.
His eyes dimmed, dark like the raging sea. They penetrated straight through me, leaving my soul naked before him. Heat stroked my nerves in a painfully delightful way as his eyes focused on my lips. “Gods be damned, Nevaeh. When you look at me that way, I could lose myself.”
My heartbeat skyrocketed. I wanted to push him onto the bed, wrap my legs around him, and sink into his arms. But he tore his gaze from mine and turned toward the door. “We should be on our way.”
“Damian.” I grabbed his arm, and he stilled.
I didn’t want to become like my grandmother—alone and afraid of getting close to anyone. Though I hadn’t realized it at the time, embracing my heritage and becoming a full djinn had been the first step in a long and painful process. Choosing to meet Matthias head on and not run was the next step. And this—coming to terms with my feelings for Damian—was the final step. “I made a promise to myself in the Realm of Air.”
“Don’t say it, Nevaeh.” Damian’s gravelly voice raked my skin, and fear clenched my chest. Being honest made me vulnerable.
I took an unsteady breath. “I promised that I would stop living my life in fear—of myself, Matthias, and you. I was terrified of my power for so long, but I just had to embrace it. You and I are good together, Damian. I can feel it in my bones. I always have.”
Damian’s jaw tensed. His eyes blazed, and he stepped back. “I’m sorry Neve, but no matter how much I want it to be true, we’re not good t
ogether. Being so close… its torture. Every second, I have to fight back the monster in my soul. If there were any way to change that, I would. I tried with the djinn, but that wish didn’t work. He told me I couldn’t change what I was—not even with a wish. I don’t see a path forward that’s safe for us. Once this battle is over, and you’re safe, you won’t hear from me again. I’m truly sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.”
His expression had turned to stone. A man alone in the waves, content to drown in the sea.
Hurt, regret, and anger bloomed inside me, and my chest felt like it was splitting open. I swayed as Damian slid his arm free from my grip and walked to the door. He turned back, his stance cold and steady. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Meet me in the study.”
He left, and I stood with my heart collapsing in on itself like a dying star.
I hadn’t planned this conversation, but I had expected it to go differently. Shit, I’d read everything wrong. I’d let myself think we might actually have a chance.
Straightening my spine, I took a few deep breaths and steadied my emotions. Now was not the time to let them get out of control.
No matter how things turned out with Damian, I would be okay.
What did my heart matter, anyway?
My soul was on the line. My freedom. My life.
I had to fight for that. I had to focus on what mattered. Until this battle was over, I had to be ice.
Ten minutes later, I strolled into the study, collected and calm.
At least, that’s what I’d aimed for.
Damian was leaning over his desk, looking at the Atlas of the Planes. Flipping the book closed, he looked up and met my gaze. Something flashed in his eyes. Sadness? Regret?
He rounded the desk and stopped several feet from me. “Ready?”
His shoulders were tense and his eyes dark. A man preparing to lay down his blade and stand before his enemy.
Anxiety settled on me like a smothering cloth. The Watchers were no joke. An order of beings above the laws of both Magica and humankind. Damian’s ancient foes. Emotionless and cold, they were known for their ruthless sense of justice.
Broken Skies (Dragon's Gift: The Storm Book 4) Page 11