The reprimand sounded more amused than chiding, but the big guy ducked his head, a blush coloring his cheeks. “On it.”
The all three guys vanished out the door, leaving her gaping after them. “What the fuck just happened?”
“Welcome to the team.” Nikos’s voice startled her so much, she jumped.
She’d completely forgotten he was still in the room.
“Let me see your injuries,” he said.
He reached for her arm, and she jerked away from him with a glare. “I’m not taking my shirt off in front of you.”
Instead of flashing her a rakish grin, he shook his head, every inch of him somber. “Just give me your hand.”
Not trusting him an inch, she searched for something—anything—she could use to defend herself. Unless she wanted to smother him in the blanket or bash him over the head with the dresser drawers, there really was nothing she could use as a weapon.
A slight spark entered his dead eyes, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Huffing out a breath, knowing that she really didn’t have a choice, she flung out her hand with all the grace of a pouting two-year old. Humor danced in his eyes briefly, then faded as he got a look of her mangled fingers.
It was like she’d shoved them into a wood chipper.
“Stupid,” he muttered under his breath, acting as if he actually cared. He glanced up at her, any sign of the psycho tucked away for now. “When I touch your wrist, you’re going to feel a sting as the slivers work their way out of your body. Then you’ll feel heat, a tightness as your flesh knits back together.” He waited until she looked back up at him. “Ready?”
Octavia took a deep breath, then nodded. “Just do it.”
She wasn’t afraid of pain. While physical pain sucked and could drive a person batty, she’d become accustomed to it over the years.
His hands were warm and firm as he wrapped them around her wrist, his grip surprisingly gentle. Callused fingertips brushed along her pulse, sending a slight shiver down her arm, then his hands began to glow amber, along with his eyes. Energy swarmed around him, like he was drawing it from the very air, the room temperature dropping drastically.
As she watched, the wooden slivers puncturing her skin worked their way out of her body. Blood welled and dripped from her fingertips, and it felt like she’d wrapped her hands around a steaming mug of coffee. Her joints ached for a few seconds, the sensation of her flesh tugging and knitting itself together was more than a bit disconcerting—then it was done.
He ran a single finger down the center of her palm, and her fingers twitched at the slightly erotic sensation. Unsettled by the stolen caress, she snatched her hand away from his, narrowing her eyes in warning.
“I’m just checking to make sure you didn’t lose any tactile sensations.” He blinked up at her innocently, but she wasn’t buying his bullshit act.
He held out his hand toward her. “Your other arm.”
She flexed her healed hand, unable to feel even a trace of the injury lingering. Knowing she’d need all her strength and wits about her in the upcoming confrontation, she flung out her other arm, but refused to place her hand in his.
But before he had time to grab her wrist, something deep in her bones cracked and warmth slithered along her insides in welcome, like coming home. Everything inside her settled with a hum. Cinders swarmed over her fingers, glowing under her skin.
It felt different from the first time, the healing sensation like sharp little needles were being pounded into her flesh, and she hissed at the unexpectedness. Tiny shards of wood pinged on the mattress, her skin bubbling up and smoothing out until all signs of injury were gone.
Everything happened too fast for her to process any of it in detail.
The sensations, much like static, arced down her arm, crackling across her torso, before licking across her hips, bathing her skin in a wave of heat. It was like a giant cat’s tongue scraping under her skin. She flinched at the slightly uncomfortable feeling, but it was over before she could protest.
The extra heat faded back into her bones like it had never been.
No matter how she searched, it was gone.
She rubbed her newly-healed fingers together, unable to sense even a lingering ache. She brushed her hand down over her hipbone, but the skin felt just like new. Any lingering headache and stomach pain were gone, too.
“Thanks,” she muttered it grudgingly. “You could’ve just done that in the first place instead of putting your mitts all over my hand.”
She backed off the bed, standing opposite him. When he didn’t move, she glanced up to see him staring at her with a funny look on his face. She self-consciously flipped her hair back over her shoulder and glared at him for making her nervous. “What are you looking at?”
He snapped to attention, then gave her a small, formal bow that left her feeling even more uncomfortable. “I’ll let the others know to expect you shortly.”
He backed toward the door and stepped into the hallway, watching her with a slightly stupefied expression. “Don’t try to run. Warrick might be harsh, but he will honor his vow…even if he has to hunt you down to do it.”
Satisfied with his warning, Nikos looked both ways down the hall, as if confused to find himself standing there, then turned left and vanished.
Something about their reactions rubbed her the wrong way.
Last night none of them could wait to get rid of her, despite the promise of protection. This morning they gathered around her and clucked like a bunch of mother hens. She didn’t believe it was because of some silly oath.
They were up to something, and she was determined to find out what before the shit they were shoveling got so deep she drowned in it.
Chapter Five
Keegan
“She’s immune to your powers.” Which shouldn’t be possible. As far as Keegan could tell, she had been human last night…and now she wasn’t. He paced the floor of the library, counting his steps as he went back and forth. Being inside his domain usually soothed him, but today he found the mystery of their unusual guest much more intriguing.
“Do you think Eldon knew?” Warrick stood at the sideboard and poured himself a glass of whiskey, ignoring the early morning hour.
Keegan cast Warrick an incredulous look. “Of course he knew. He gave his dying breath to bring her here. He considered her someone special. Someone important. As much as you might want to leave the daemon world behind, you are and will always be daemon elite. Can you honestly wash your hands of her and your oath?”
A growl rumbled out of Warrick, and he downed his drink in one gulp, his mouth twisted in a snarl.
“She came to us, injured and bloodied, at the request of the old man.” Keegan leaned against his desk, crossing his feet at the ankle. “She’s Eldon’s beloved Valkyrie. If the rumors are true about her—which I believe them to be—she’s a protector of the innocent. How can we do any less?”
Warrick set down his glass with a measured movement, the clink of it on the metal tray the only sound in the room. “And if she’s not innocent?”
Warrick glanced at him over his shoulder, and Keegan’s face hardened to granite. “Then we kill her.”
Everything inside Keegan rebelled at the thought of harming the girl. Though Warrick grunted in agreement, there was a tightness around his eyes that said he found the thought just as distasteful.
Eldon told them she was their savior or their downfall.
Only time would tell.
Until they learned more, they couldn’t let her out of their sight. The tightness in his gut eased slightly now they had a plan. He refused to admit it had anything to do with the primitive need to keep the girl with them.
Octavia tugged at the ill-fitting clothes they gave her. The shirt was new, but she had to roll the sleeves up several times to get her hands free. The sweatpants were almost worse. The pant legs were rolled up, while the waist was rolled down, making her look like a kid dressing up in her
parents’ clothing.
She looked worse than any of the homeless people who inhabited her domain. She didn’t mind the clothes so much, but she felt naked without her boots, blades, and gun.
Atticus led her down the stairs, and she recognized the entryway from last night, immediately looking for the spot where she last saw Eldon.
And discovered a black burn mark staining the floor like a bomb had gone off.
What the fuck happened last night, and why couldn’t she remember?
She tore her eyes away from the disturbing spot while Atticus led her deeper into the house. She cast a longing look at the door but resisted bolting. Eldon brought her here for a reason, and she felt compelled to wait until she knew what she was dealing with first. Besides, she didn’t doubt her ability to vanish without a trace, she’d gotten good at it over the years. Kronos and Eldon had been very thorough when teaching her how to survive but something made her stay.
“We can have some new clothes ordered for you soon.” Atticus gave her an earnest smile over his shoulder, like a large puppy eager to please.
She frowned at his back, not liking the way his comment made it sound like she would never be returning to her old life. People were counting on her, both the ones who lived in the abandoned city and the young daemons who had no one to protect them.
Apparently it didn’t require two daemons to produce a daemon child. Two humans with the right bloodline could do the same. And until they matured and came into their powers, daemons had no use for them. The tender care of their young was shoddy at best.
To her, all children deserved to be protected. Eldon managed to track down a lot of the kids through their bloodlines and get them help, but some kids fell through the cracks and had no clue about their heritage.
She didn’t tell anyone else, not even Eldon, but she could sense the presence of a daemon even before they gained their power. Eldon usually had to be within touching distance to sense them.
It was like when two magnets were next to each other…she was drawn to them…or even repelled if they were dangerous to her.
Atticus disappeared into the room ahead of her, and Octavia slowed her pace.
“I wouldn’t advise it.” Keegan strolled out of the shadows and came to a stop next to her.
“Advise what?” Octavia played dumb, keeping her expression carefully blank under his sharp regard. This one was almost more dangerous than Warrick. He saw too much, things she wasn’t ready to share, especially with strangers.
Humor made the shards of green in his golden brown eyes sharpen. “Warrick isn’t a man you want to cross.”
It wasn’t a threat, it was a warning, and she took it as such. “Understood.”
She was well and truly fucked.
For now.
At least until she found a safe way to escape without being tracked back to the meager hole-in-the-wall she lovingly called home. Dodging both daemons and Kronos soldiers was going to be a bitch, and a nearly impossible task. She very much feared she wouldn’t be able to traverse the tightrope without someone cutting it out from under her.
Taking a deep breath, she followed Keegan into a spacious kitchen. The guys were seated around a large table, a giant mound of food in front of them.
They appeared to be waiting for her, and her stomach fluttered wildly having all four of them watch her with different expressions on their faces. She’d lived under the radar for most of her life, avoiding drawing attention to herself.
Working with these men went against her every instinct.
They would drag her out of the shadows and shine a light on her life—and get her and themselves killed in the process. Or worse, if the daemons found out she’d ever been a part of the Kronos project, she might as well slit her own throat so they wouldn’t have to bother.
“Have a seat.” Nikos pulled out the chair next to him, and she couldn’t help but look at him suspiciously.
She hadn’t known him long, but he didn’t strike her as the gentlemanly type.
She let out her breath slowly, reminding herself she needed to play nice with them until she could discover what they really wanted before it came back to bite her on her ass.
She took her seat, propping her foot up on the chair, and hugged her bent leg, giving herself only scant protection from their invasive stares. As soon as she was seated, the guys went into action, piling food on their plates. They weren’t like ravenous hyenas, but it was close. There was an order to their chaos…until Nikos swiped a piece of bacon off Atticus’s plate.
The redhead lashed out with his knife, narrowly missing lopping off Nikos’s fingers in the process. The psycho only grinned and shoved his prize in this mouth, his cheeks bulging like a greedy chipmunk.
No one even blinked at the violence.
Warrick watched her from under his hooded eyelids, then gave a sigh of annoyance, as if her presence in his house was a thorn in his paw. “You’ve probably picked up on our names. Nikos sitting next to you is our healer. Atticus is our combat and weapons expert. Keegan is our strategist and historian as well as my second in command. I’m Warrick, and while you are under my care, you will follow my rules.”
Her hackles rose at his dictatorial attitude and a little spark of rebellion flickered to life deep in her soul. She was never really one to follow orders, even when she joined the cadets or when she was transferred into the Kronos project.
When he narrowed his eyes at her, she squashed the devilish smile that wanted to escape. Since he seemed to be waiting for an answer, she gave a negligent shrug and grabbed a piece of toast, the only food that seemed to be relatively safe and wouldn’t make her lose a hand in the process. “Understood.”
The tense set to his shoulders relaxed, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The fool actually believed that her understanding something meant she would obey. Delight bubbled up at the thought of all the fun she was going to have driving them crazy.
“Eldon trained us when we first came into our abilities.” Warrick took a sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim like he expected her to try and steal something when he wasn’t looking. He set his cup down in a precise way, then gave her his undivided attention. “Why don’t you tell us how you met Eldon and came to be at our house last night?”
It wasn’t a question, and the bite of toast in her mouth tasted like dust. She took a sip of water to stall for time as she gathered her thoughts. He wouldn’t like the truth, it would be too much of a coincidence for him, but she decided against lying, sensing it would only piss him off more.
She set her glass down, tracing the condensation on the smooth surface. “How much do you know about Eldon’s special projects?”
She refused to give away his operation, uncertain if he had someone ready to take over for him if anything—
She took a shuddering breath and pushed the image of his lifeless body out of her head.
Warrick’s eyebrows rose slightly, as if she’d taken him by surprise. It was obvious he hadn’t expected her to know so much about Eldon. The rest of the guys stopped eating, their eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them.
“He didn’t share much of his personal life with us. We know he champions certain causes, but not how he selects them or why.”
His eyes became shuttered, and she didn’t have to guess what he was thinking—she was one of Eldon’s causes—one he didn’t approve of.
He was half right.
“I was on my way home, taking a shortcut and passing through the abandoned buildings on the northern edges of town when I heard the sounds of fighting. I went to investigate and found Eldon under attack.”
A lump formed in her throat as images of the battle crashed into her consciousness. She picked up her toast, shredding it into tiny pieces as she remembered the slaughter. “He was saving the life of a young boy when he was shot. I was laying down cover fire for him, but there were just too many. I managed to get the boy to safety and whisk Eldon away, but…” She shrug
ged.
She’d been too fucking late.
She was supposed to be his Valkyrie, his savior, and she couldn’t even keep him alive long enough to get him help. She tossed down the rest of her toast and dusted off her fingers, then lifted her head and glared at him. “Anything else you want to know?”
As a wicked gleam entered his frosty blue eyes, she wanted to curse her rash offer.
He leaned back in his seat, clearly the lord of the manor, as he rested his ankle over his knee. “Since you offered…what are you?”
Chapter Six
“A female,” Octavia snarked, raising a challenging eyebrow at Warrick, ignoring the choked guffaws from the rest of the guys. Internally, she stilled at the pointed question, the sensation of a trap closing around her was like hands tightening around her throat.
When he only raised an eyebrow, she sighed.
Well, shit.
Since she didn’t exactly know, she wasn’t sure how to answer. She didn’t think he would be satisfied with the truth. “I’m sure you would have a better idea than I would. Eldon said I was special, but when I pushed him for answers, he refused to elaborate.”
She straightened in her seat, placing her feet on the floor. “What the hell happened last night?”
Knowledge lurked behind their eyes, but no one spoke.
She pursed her lips, then slid back her chair and stood. “I guess Eldon was wrong in thinking you could help me.”
She reached the door before Keegan broke the stalemate, and she suspected he was the mediator between Warrick’s abrasive attitude and everyone else. “What do you know about daemons? You obviously know about our world.”
She did, but not in the way he thought. The things she was taught by the Kronos trainers was nothing like the real world. They weren’t monsters any more than humans were. She’d picked up a lot on the streets by watching and even more once Eldon took her under his wing, training her and sending her on small missions. He kept her away from daemons for a reason…until now.
Daemon Grudge Page 4