Shattered Dawn (Fallen Guardians Book 5)

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  “Nik?” She touched his tense, powerful forearm. “Talk to me.”

  He stepped away as if he didn’t want the contact. “There’s nothing to say. You’ve made your decision. Let’s go. “I’ll take you back to New York—”

  “Darn it, Nik, stop. Don’t shut me out. Not now. What did you mean, they too, cared? I would never deliberately hurt you. I only said what I did because I am terrified of you walking away when my need to feed becomes too much for you to witness.”

  Still, he didn’t look at her, his focus fixed on the endless vista. Thick, dark clouds gathered, concealing the warm glow of the setting sun. The breeze picked up.

  “Do you know what I am, Shadow?”

  She frowned at the change in conversation. “Yes…you’re an immortal and a Guardian.”

  Finally, his light gaze flickered to her. “And?”

  “And you’re from the Greek pantheon. Kira told me,” she said, heat seeping into her face. “I asked.”

  “Yes and no.”

  Frowning, she shoved back the freed strands of hair flying into her face. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m a half-breed who never really belonged in any pantheon,” he said, tone flat.

  “What do you mean? You’re a Greek deity.”

  Needing to get his focus back to her, she grasped his callused hand and inched to his front, trusting him not to let go, considering she was only a foot away from a deathly fall off the mountain.

  “Was,” he corrected, a cold smile flickering and vanishing, reminding her of how the Guardians lost their godhood.

  He blinked, his stare focusing on her then dropping to the edge. He hauled her into him, flashing them back to safety near the eroded step. “Why do you always risk your life?” he snapped. “You could have fallen to your—dammit.” He let her go and rubbed a palm over his unshaven jaw.

  At least it broke the icy wall he’d retreated behind.

  Arms folded beneath her boobs, Shadow remained in front of him, refusing to let him withdraw into himself. And waited.

  “My mother,” he finally said, “is the Moon Goddess from the Indian pantheon. Beautiful, graceful, and most of all, untouchable. Men desired her but could never have her. My sire is one of the old, primordial entities, Eros, the God of Procreation. On a hunting expedition in the godly realm, he saw her at a river she sometimes visited. Rumor was, she desired him but refused his pursuit. In the end, she must have succumbed, because here I am.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I was never meant to happen since only lust drove them…” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, staring past her to the cliffs behind. “Among immortals, only destined pairs can have a young, but with my sire being one of the few ancient deities, the rules didn’t apply. He didn’t claim my mātā as mate, either, despite spawning me. I stayed with her for the first few years of my life. She might have cared for me, I don’t recall. There were always servants around to see to my needs. When I turned five winters, she sent me to my sire.”

  “Why?” Shadow asked. “You were so young.”

  His flat gaze came back to hers. “She couldn’t handle the dishonor she’d brought to her pantheon since she’s also the Goddess of Purity, and had broken her vows of chastity. So yeah, I became a constant reminder of her fall from grace.”

  “But that was cruel. You were only five.”

  “It mattered little. To redeem herself, she sent me off to my sire in some subterranean place. He decided he couldn’t keep me, either, and I was packed off to the Greek pantheon. It’s why the warriors sometimes call me Greek.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t really care what they call me. I squired with Zeus, who reigns over all the gods there. But I didn’t fit in anywhere, I grew up adrift. My search for purpose led me to sign on with Ares’ army. It wasn’t enough, either, then I joined the gladiators. It was bloody, brutal, and suited me—”

  “Those weren’t death fights, were they?” she asked, a chill creeping through her at his violent way of life from such a young age.

  “During a match, they were. All powers became nulled in the arena, and it made the fights more interesting, I suppose, but I didn’t care. It made me brutal beyond compare. Despite my growing status as a deadly fighter, it wasn’t enough…” Mocking laughter now. “I don’t know what the hell I was hoping for. Thank fuck, I’d gotten past that pathetic stage.”

  The longing for acceptance? Anger and hurt for him warred within her. “I’m so sorry—”

  “Don’t be. It’s all in the past. It no longer matters.” He pivoted, pacing toward the edge of the mesa.

  “It does to me,” she whispered to his rigid back. Because I feel the pain in you.

  The winds carried her voice, and he wrenched around. “You want to hear the sordid truth about the aberrant no one wanted? Is that it, Shadow?” he demanded, retracing his path to her.

  “No, Nik.” She held his glare. “I want to know because you matter to me.” More, she didn’t want the old wounds bolted inside him to fester like it obviously was.

  “Right. I had females like those who cared back in the pantheon. All they wanted was to tug a predator’s tail, or in this case fuck a rabid fighter—”

  “Nik, stop.” Her stomach twisted at his self-deprecation. More, it hurt that he thought she would just up and leave him at their first hurdle.

  “You want the ugly truth, Shadow? Very well. I’m a half-breed, a mongrel in their purist eyes. So what do you think happened?” he asked, a tic pulsing on his jaw. “Before my gladiator days, I was a stray, yearning for scraps of affection. To belong somewhere. My powers of cryokinesis seemed equally pointless. Who the hell needed ice? Hell…” He shook his head and rubbed the snakehead inked on his neck.

  She frowned. But your powers are lethal. You can kill—

  “Yeah, I hadn’t come fully into it back then,” he answered.

  Wait…he heard her?

  Before she could ask about that, he continued. “Except for this…” He touched the serpent again. “My mother put this protection spell on me as a babe, and I could take on its smoky form since childhood. It can kill through suffocation, but that’s about it.”

  Whoa. Shadow gaped. Thank god he didn’t morph into an actual snake. She preferred her man on two legs, not slithery.

  “No, I’m not a shifter.” He cut her a sardonic look. “Anyway, I’d just turned twenty-one when the missive arrived conscripting younger sons as protectors to the Goddess of Life. I signed on anyway. Might as well be useful elsewhere. And there you have it, my amazing past.”

  Shadow ignored the droll tone, stepped closer, and slipped her arms around his hard body, hugging him. She had no idea if her family had loved her or missed her since her disappearance. But more than anyone, she understood loneliness. She saw it in him, saw it behind all the layers of hardass. Chains still bound him to his past.

  After a second, his hold on her tightened like a vise and he buried his face in her hair.

  Heck, breathing was overrated anyway. But she was grateful she had him back. God knew they had a tough road ahead of them, but she would never walk away. Not now.

  “You’re not leaving?” he asked as if sensing her thoughts again.

  “No.” She inhaled his scent, soaking in his warmth.

  His head lowered and pressed his lips to her throat, the brief kiss sliding a tingle of heat through her. “Then there’s something I must ask you.”

  She eased back. The sun had long set, and beneath the flashes of silvery light from the moon hidden behind the dark clouds, he was all chiseled angles and sharper planes, and far too somber. “It sounds ominous…” she teased, trying for levity.

  “Hardly.” A smile started, lighting his hard features to one of amusement, then it faded. “But it is the Arc’s rules.”

  “The Arc?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “The archangel, Michael. The Guardians’ leader.”

  “
The man I met outside the abbey?” Disbelief stole her breath. “And-and you didn’t tell me?”

  He frowned, tucking back strands of her wind-blown hair. “I did. I said he was our leader.”

  Men. Shadow shook her head. Heck, she’d met several otherworldly beings recently, so encountering the archangel shouldn’t shock her. Right?

  She bit back a snort.

  But at Nik’s dark, intense stare, she waited warily and hoped it wasn’t as bad as her thumping heart implied. “What is it?” she asked.

  “You know how I feel, Shadow. I want you with me. For always. But you are human and have free will, so I must do this. If you say yes now, no matter what happens after, I won’t let you go.”

  She heard the caveat. “Are you trying to scare me?” She arched an eyebrow, determined not to let a smidgen of worry take hold. Gently, she stroked his stubbly jaw. “I want us, Nik. I want you.”

  She felt his immense relief more than she saw it, and it settled in her like a warm glow. He removed her hand from his face and kissed her palm. “Good. You are mine, lígo machitís.”

  “What does it mean?” she finally asked.

  “Little fighter.”

  She laughed at the name.

  Smiling, he held out his hand, the air above swirled in a tiny mist, and several ice-crystal flowers on stalks formed on his palm.

  Her eyes widened. “That’s amazing.” She held back her breeze-tossed hair from her face and accepted the frozen blooms. “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

  “Then I’ll fill up our quarters with flora for you,” he said softly, removing her hair grip. He scooped up her mane and refastened it.

  Shadow put a hand to his chest, unable to stop touching him while staring at her flowers. Her heart thumped hard, emotions crowding her.

  A low growl splintered the intimacy enclosing them. They both pivoted to the sound.

  Shadow gasped as an agitating mist as tall as a house appeared out of nowhere. “What is that?”

  Nik cursed and pushed her behind him.

  Beneath the moonlight, the massive, foggy apparition bounded toward them like rolling mist.

  Another form took shape alongside Nik. The silver-haired Guardian. Race. “Sense something—shit! That’s a—”

  “A damn hellhound,” Nik growled.

  “Why the hell here?” Race snapped.

  “Who the fuck knows? Shadow.” Nik shot her a warning look. “Stay behind us!”

  Terror pounded in her head, and her symbionts throbbed as if sensing the approaching entity’s dark energy—

  Oh, hell no! Nope, not that thing. She wasn’t touching it, not even if she were dying. Like she’d even want to take on a humongous vaporous demon dog.

  Nik flung out his hands, ice spears rained on the hellhound, but they sailed right through the creature’s misty shape, as did Race’s fire blasts.

  Both men’s black swords appeared in a smoky gray flash, but the creature dissipated, dodging each swing of their weapon.

  “What the fuck now?” Nik bit out, bracing for another attack. “It won’t take on corporeal form.”

  “And our abilities are voided on the hellscum in that shape,” Race growled.

  Expression like granite, Nik’s entire focus fixed on the agitating fog. In a fast-moving tornado, the creature leaped at them, taking physical shape. Black as night, eyes like burning coal, with a car-size head and a mouthful of deadly fangs.

  Oh, shit. She stumbled back, her ice flowers falling and shattering. No way could she fight this horror and hope to win.

  Dammit, she needed a blade. While her satiated symbionts made her stronger and her senses sharper than a human’s, she couldn’t summon weapons. If only she had a dagger—

  Something warm and solid took form in her hand.

  She gasped, staring in confusion at the obsidian dagger in her palm, the one she’d seen in Nik’s closet. How…?

  He must have willed it to her. Her fingers clenched around the hilt.

  Nik slammed his fist on the ground. A crack echoed, and deadly ice shards ripped through the surface. Shadow scrambled backward as the ice formation, taller than a house, rushed toward the creature. The hound yelped, a deadly long spike spearing through its body. The ice broke, blood poured, and the demon hound dissipated into mist again.

  Aaand then it reformed a second later, fully healed.

  Nik cursed. Both he and Race flew into the air, their weapons coming down in deadly arcs, but the beast dove into them, ramming them hard and sending both men flying some distance away.

  Leaving her alone to face the colossal monster.

  Chapter 19

  Oh, God, oh, God!

  Her heart jammed in her throat, Shadow braced for attack. The hellhound sailed past Nik’s tall, dangerously sharp ice spears, landing a short stretch of space from her. It prowled closer like a living hell. Eerie red eyes fixed on her.

  “Shadow!” Nik’s terrified cry came from afar as the hellhound’s gait gathered momentum.

  The dark shape leaped. Oh, shit!

  With only survival instincts driving her—heck, she was dead either way—she charged it, went in low, sliding between its massive forelimbs, thrusting the dagger upward with both hands. She shut her eyes as its heated, furry belly grazed her hands, and a river of something hot, thick, and coppery splattered her.

  A guttural howl exploded, claws scraping on the granite surface reverberating in the quiet.

  The sounds of ice crackled. A roar resounded. Shadow swiped the gore from her face, then cursed as a tsunami-like wave rolled toward her.

  Crap! She grabbed onto a rocky outcrop, and the huge breaker crashed into the creature, sending the menace sliding away from her. Caught in the flood, Shadow fell, hitting her head against the rocky ground, water cascading over her, into her mouth and nose—

  “Shadow!” Hands grabbed her, palms pressing on her chest.

  She coughed and spat out water, lungs burning. Groaning, she pushed Nik’s hands away. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she croaked, her gaze darting about her. “Where’s the—?”

  “Vanished.” He scooped her into his arms, his heart pounding like a runaway freight train against her ear, and dematerialized them back to the monastery.

  They reformed moments later in their room. The lights brightened. She gripped him tight around his neck, refusing to let go of her only safety net, shuddering, still caught in her terror at being so close to an evil entity that could have killed her, or worse, dragged her to Hell.

  “Are you all right?” He pressed his mouth to her ear, his arms equally tight around her.

  Too shaken to answer, she shook her head then nodded, shivers wracking her body. Her teeth clacked. “H-hold me.”

  “I have you, Starshine,” he whispered, sitting down, keeping her on his lap, his chest rising and falling impossibly fast against hers, palms stroking her back.

  After several minutes, he drew back, expression dark with worry. “I can’t pick up anything, are you hurt?” he demanded. “You’re bleeding—”

  “N-not mine, the hellhound’s.” She trembled, staring blankly at the watery, reddish-black blood covering her hands, her arms, and soaking her clothes. “Why is it here?”

  “We fight supernatural evil, we always have pests after us. That damn thing could have torn you apart!” He started patting her again, checking her everywhere, his normally olive-tan skin chalk white.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she reassured him, even though her heart still struggled to find its way back to her chest. “I hurt it…” She grimaced at her blood-coated fingers, surprised to see she still held onto the gory dagger. More watery red dripped from her hair and clothes, and it now smeared Nik.

  “How did you do that? Create that wave?”

  “I have the power of cryokinesis. I can command all forms of liquid. Create ice weapons, etcetera,” he said, swiping her bloody hair stuck to her cheeks.

  “Thank God for that.” She gave him a trem
bling smile.

  “Unfortunately, it can’t always be used while on patrol with humans around.”

  “Here.” She handed him the obsidian dagger, her mind still caught in the deadly confrontation. “Your weapon probably saved me from the hellhound.”

  Nik stared blankly at the blade in his hand, then his gaze flashed to hers. “Did you have the dagger with you?”

  She shook her head. “No. It just appeared in my hand, and at the right time, too. Thanks. Ugh, I’m a mess. I stink of sulfur. I need a shower.”

  “Shadow, how did you get this blade?”

  At his statue stillness and x-ray stare, she frowned and got off his lap. Wait. Did he think…? “I didn’t steal it, okay?” She scowled. “I only ever stole money when I had to. For food.”

  “I’m not accusing you.” He rose to his feet, towering over her.

  “And I already told you it just appeared in my hand.” She stomped into the bathroom. Honestly. So many questions over his blade when they just fought off a darn hellhound.

  As she dragged off her wet clothes, Nik appeared, dagger in hand, his eyes flashing an eerie shade of green. “Please, Starshine, tell me exactly what happened. How did you get the dagger?”

  Still mad at him, Shadow hauled a navy towel from the rail and wrapped it around her body, swiping a blood-wet strand from her cheek. “When the creature appeared, I wished I had a dagger, and that weapon formed in my hand. Yeah-yeah, I know, I’m human, and we can’t do things like that, but it happened. I thought you willed it to me.”

  “I didn’t,” Nik rasped, looking like someone had whacked him in the head. “When did you first touch this?” He held up the obsidian blade.

  “Early this morning, after you left to go on patrol. I took a shirt from your closet to change into and saw the dagger. Look, I was only admiring it,” she said, a thread of defensiveness creeping into her voice again. “I didn’t do anything, but something about it drew me.”

  “And?”

  Man, what was with the grilling? But he appeared as if he stood on the edge of the precipice, a wrong foot, and he would plummet. Her fingers tightened on the towel. “The blade glowed when I picked it up. I thought you had a protection spell on it.”