“The roof.”
“No. Dead end,” she wheezed. “We’ll be trapped.”
The sound of the door crashing open once more below sent fresh waves of panic storming through her system. They were here. Adrenaline kept her legs moving but each step was excruciating. At this rate, those thugs would get them for sure. Sure, she jogged most weekends and some mornings too, but that was more relaxed. Sprinting full out was a whole different story.
Luther looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes unusually bright in the low light, so vivid and greener than an Irish meadow.
“Trust me.” He paused on the next floor, not at all out of breath. “I need to get to the roof, so I can deal with those half-breed bastards.”
“You’re going to fight them?” Her expression turned to horror. He was one man, alone.
“I said I’d protect you, Thana. I meant that.”
“You think they’re coming after me? Why? I dropped my purse. They’ve got what they wanted.”
“No, they didn’t.”
Those words took a moment to sink in as did his calling them “half-breed bastards”.
He knew. Luther knew those men who were after her. Which meant he’d known they were coming too. She wanted to demand answers, wanted to know the truth of who he was, why he was there, but right now her assailants’ footsteps were pounding closer and closer up the stairs and as much as she felt hurt and betrayed by Luther, she also knew deep in her soul that going with him now was her only option. She couldn’t fight those thugs alone. Perhaps when they reached the roof, she could escape another way.
Luther grabbed her hand again and started running. Thana stumbled after him, keeping up as best she could, her calves cramping and threatening to give out. A warm rush of air burst against her when he kicked open the door to the roof. She kept running with him, one hand clutched in his and the other trying to pin the skirt of her dress down in the wind.
They stopped abruptly as the two men from alley appeared a few feet in front of them, near the edge of the black tarred flat roof.
Impossible.
She looked back at the door they’d emerged from then around the area, pulse pounding and cold sweat trickling down her back, sticking her blue dress to her skin. There weren’t any other routes onto the roof. No ladder or adjoining building. “Luther?”
He stood with his back to her, the warm breeze billowing in his white shirt, his broad shoulders relaxed as though he wasn’t facing two dangerous men. An aura of power radiated off of him, palpable and predatory. Thana stared at him, confused. He still had a hold of her hand.
With his other, he unsheathed a wicked looking dagger and held it at his side.
“Leave,” he said to the two men. “Filthy Nephilim.”
Thana frowned. She’d heard that name before, years ago in Sunday School. They were half-angel, half-human offspring. She peered around Luther’s side and squinted through the gathering moonlight. Maybe she’d passed out or maybe the fear had gone to her head, because now those two guys didn’t look human at all—with their unearthly white skin and glowing quicksilver eyes. They seemed bigger now too, at least a foot taller than before and built like brick shit houses. Both were staring intently at Luther, sneering to reveal razor-sharp pointed teeth.
Her wooziness increased, but she forced herself to remain upright. She refused to pass out in her own nightmare. Her attention returned to Luther. He looked at her over his shoulder, all calm confidence as he released her hand. He looked like something out of a dream. A warrior. Otherworldly. Elementally masculine. Sexy as hell.
Dangerous.
Survival instinct had Thana stepping back, distancing herself from him. Pain flashed in his vivid green eyes before he turned away. He’d taken a life down in the street and would probably kill these two creatures now. Yet, he’d asked her to trust him, had promised to protect her. And she believed him.
She just couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Luther flicked his left hand out to his side and the handle of the blade extended into a long staff that rivalled his six foot plus frame. The silver engraving covering it reflected the moon’s glow.
Thana blinked, and Luther was gone. A boom shook the ground and a hot wave of air knocked her onto her backside. She sat frozen, hands pressed into the tacky tar roof, staring, unable to take her eyes off the battle happening before her.
He was fighting.
For her.
The Nephilim snarled and evaded Luther as he swept around them, his spear gleaming brightly as it cut through the air bare inches from his enemies. The half-breeds gained ground then held out their hands at their sides. Dark swords materialized. She was going crazy. That had to be it. This was like some superhero movie come to life. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
One of the creatures slashed at Luther, forcing him back a step and her heart tumbled to her toes. He blocked the blade with his spear, but the Nephilim caught him hard across the jaw with his bare fist, sending her warrior tumbling across the roof.
Unfazed, Luther hot to his feet, launched himself through the air, and brought his spear down in a swift arc that sliced through the half-breed’s suit coat. An ungodly shriek tore through the night. Blood poured from the wound, creating a slick river down the man’s leg, but the fight continued.
The second man attacked. Luther leapt backward, high in the air, drawing a second blade from the sheath at his waist. It was the same as the spear, short handle with a long gleaming curved blade, but he didn’t extend this one. Instead, he slashed forward, driving his opponent back.
Thana struggled to her feet, stomach clenching whenever the half-breeds managed to get close to Luther. He was incredible as he fought, violent and graceful, his movements swift and fierce, his aim true. He sliced down the back of one of the men then turned and brought his spear up again, twisting it to cut through the second Nephilim’s chest. Their snarls turned into roars, the sound deafening. She covered her ears and shook her head as the first half-breed thundered toward her, heavy footfalls shaking the roof, and time seemed to slow.
Before it could reach her, Luther was in front of her, blocking the attack. He yelled and lunged forward with his spear, slicing straight through the half-breed’s stomach. He didn’t stop, tugging his blade free from the Nephilim’s body only to twirl fast and lop off its head.
“Stay back,” Luther yelled to her before launching himself at his second opponent.
Near her feet, the body of the dead half-breed still twitched, a pool of blood spreading outward from the severed neck toward her feet. She couldn’t move, her legs wouldn’t cooperate. The slick liquid touched the toes of her cream sandals and edged around it, engulfing them. Hot bile scalded her throat, but she swallowed hard, unwilling to be sick while Luther was still fighting for his life and hers.
Luther yelled, and her attention shot back to him. He fought the remaining man, doing all he could to protect her as he had promised. Blood marred his brown skin and stained his white shirt. His movements had grown slower, clumsier, and that scared her. Fear for her own safety became fear for Luther. The second half-breed turned swiftly, raising his sword to cut across Luther’s thigh. His knee hit the roof and he blocked the next slash of the creature’s sword with the staff of his spear. Luther thrust upward, forcing his opponent away again. He was tiring, and the Nephilim showed no sign of stopping.
Dragging the blade of his spear across the roof, scarring the black tar, Luther lashed out again. The blow missed but forced the half-breed back. Breath panting, Luther held out his right hand toward his opponent and a beam of pure white light shone down from the sky, engulfing the remaining Nephilim. The creature roared and snarled, clawing and the bright illumination as he rose into the air and disappeared.
Thana stared at the sky, feeling woozy and wobbly, stuck in some wonky sort of reality vacuum. Then the sounds of the world returned. Heavy footsteps echoed. She looked down to see Luther approaching her, blood splattered across his
chest and face and thighs. Part of her warned her to keep away, that he was as dangerous as those half-breed thugs who’d attacked her. But her heart urged to move toward him, spurned by the weariness in his expression and the warmth in his eyes. She stepped past the body of the fallen creature and wanting to throw her arms around him and cry with relief that it was over, and he was safe. But she stopped short, afraid for once of doing what she wanted. Luther had saved her from those men, those mythical monsters.
He sheathed his two blades, then closed his eyes and hung his head, taking a deep breath. His exhaustion called to her, made her yearn to soothe his pain, to give him respite and comfort. A long gash oozed on his thigh, trailing down the pale denim of his jeans to his shin. He swiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead and looked at her. “Are you all right?”
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She was stronger than this, made of sterner stuff that could withstand whatever life threw at her.
Then Luther smoothed his fingers across her cheek and couldn’t stop herself from leaning into his touch. The weariness in his eyes lifted, and he looked almost as happy as he’d been last night when they kissed. She wanted to feel happy again too, not scared of those things that had tried to hurt her or Luther. He’d protected her, fought for her. He’d done everything to deserve her trust. She was stronger than this. She was.
Her legs betrayed her, though, and her knees gave out. Before she hit the rooftop, Luther’s arm was around her waist, strong and steady, supporting her against his body. She felt the wet slide of his blood on her leg and the warmth of his skin through the think linen fabric of his shirt. Thana stared up into his beautiful green eyes, amazed and transfixed as his irises brightened again.
“Thana?” His voice sounded thicker, richer, and she melted into him, her strength vanishing. This time there was no way she could keep her tears from escaping. Luther gently swiped them away with his thumbs, his expression pained. “Are you okay?”
She nodded mutely. She was alive, and so was he. That’s all that mattered.
“We have to leave,” he said. “This is a lot for you to take in, but we’re not safe here.”
His words caused flashbacks of the man they’d left in the alley.
She didn’t want Luther to fight another one of those things.
He was right. They had to leave.
Luther bent and slid his other arm under her knees, lifting her. She looped her arms around his neck for fear of falling.
“Trust me, Thana,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning her cheek as she stared deep into his eyes. Hope flickered there.
“I do,” she said just before he closed his eyes and mumbled what sounded like Latin.
Rainbow brilliance burst forth around them and then they were hurtling forward through the air, over the rooftops and buildings, at least fifty feet in the air. Thana buried her face in Luther’s chest, holding on for dear life, caught between screaming and bracing for impact.
Moments later they landed on the roof of their apartment building.
Rather than a collision, Luther landed in a crouch with her tucked close to his chest. He straightened, and her heart slowly dislodged from her throat. She hazarded a look around and spotted the roof of the building they’d leapt from in the far distance. Her brain struggled to comprehend how they’d travelled so far, so fast without injury.
Luther stared down at her, frowning, worry lurking in his gaze.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, his silence reviving her fears.
“Nothing,” he said, the words ringing false to her ears. “Let’s get you inside.”
7
Thana followed him back inside the building then down the stairwell to their floor, her focus split. Part of her brain was still struggling to comprehend everything that had happened and make sense of it. The other part was fixed on the man beside her, Luther’s hand gripping hers, steady and strong. She followed him without question, relying on him to help her understand the things she had seen.
She hadn’t lied when she had said that she trusted him. He’d fought for her and she hoped that meant he was on her side. She held on to that belief, using it to keep her niggling fear at bay. Luther wouldn’t hurt her. He’d promised to protect her, and he had done just that. She was safe with him.
No one saw them, thank goodness, not with their clothes a mess and stained with blood. Yet when they passed by a mirror, what she saw shocked her. They appeared normal, clean and tidy and ready for an evening out at a pub or restaurant.
She blinked hard and looked again, but the image didn’t change.
Perhaps it was magic. She’d never believed in stuff like that, but after what she’d just witnessed on the rooftop, Thana was finding it harder to deny the possibility. Those things Luther had fought—Nephilim, he’d called them—were myths, legends. And yet she seen two of them die and another disappear into a beam of white light. Anything seemed possible at the moment, even if she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it was real.
She looked back at him. Reality was they were both still covered in muck, his shirt torn in placed to reveal the smooth dark skin beneath, two deadly silver blades still sheathed at his waist, his expression purposeful and intent. Since they’d left the rooftop, he’d been silent and pensive, tugging her onward unrelentingly. She was glad. He was her anchor in a storm of confusion and whirlwind emotions. Thana clung to him, afraid to let go in case everything turned crazy again. As long as she had a hold of him, she felt safe.
Luther would protect her.
His gaze briefly met hers before focusing straight ahead again.
There were so many things he wanted to ask. Who was he? What was he?
“This way,” he whispered, starting down yet another flight of stairs. With all the running and then the fight, her feet had blistered and were now so sore she couldn’t take another step.
As if sensing her distress, Luther stopped and crouched before her, one knee on the stair as he took her ankle and removed her shoe, resting her foot on his hard thigh. His warmth seeped into her and she stared down at the scratches and cuts visible on his chest through the slashes in his shirt, feeling guilty over making a fuss about a few blisters when he was injured.
The gash on his other thigh was deep, a thick valley that looked black in the fluorescent lights of the stairwell. The blood around it had dried but there were damp spots that sparkled, marking places where the wound had reopened.
Tearing her gaze away, she watched Luther frowning down at her toes.
“What happened?” He looked up and for a moment she felt like Cinderella “There’s blood on your shoes.”
“That thing… the Nephilim. I stepped in its blood after you chopped its head off. I think I was in shock.”
“I’m sorry. I never meant for this—” He shook his head and looked away.
She removed her foot from his leg and knelt before him, reaching out to graze her fingers over the wound in his thigh. He stilled, his breath catching, but she couldn’t stop herself. For some reason, touching him, laying her fingers on his bloodstained flesh, made it all seem real.
Luther was hurt, and it was all her fault.
“You need medical attention,” she her vision blurring with hot tears. Her fingers trembled and what was left of her strength faded, leaving her weak and afraid. She raised her head to look into his eyes, pleading silently for something she didn’t understand. “Luther…”
She was in his arms in a heartbeat, her forehead pressed against his neck, her cheek resting on his shoulder. Thana broke down, surrendering to her emotions and the weight of everything that had occurred in the alley and on the rooftop. She’d always been strong, capable, the dependable one who everyone looked to in times of trouble, but she couldn’t be that woman now. Luther murmured soft words against the top of her head, leaving her quaking and vulnerable in his embrace, afraid the monsters had returned.
He held her close, rubbing her back, easing away her
sobs as she pieced herself back together and slowly found her resolve to face whatever madness had descended on her world.
“Shh, Thana. We’ll be safe soon enough. My place is not far now.” His words were pure comfort to her soul, chasing away the darkness. She wrapped her arms around him, nestled with her back against his inner thigh, and her fingers hooked into the belt loops on his jeans. His embrace tightened around her, drawing her deliciously closer, and she breathed in his scent—coppery blood and the spicy musk of his aftershave—filling her with warmth and happiness until she was no longer afraid. “I’ll keep you from harm. I promise. It’s my sacred duty to guard you.”
She believed him with all her heart. Here in his arms was the only place she felt safe.
Luther helped her to her feet and she cleared her throat, sniffing back her tears. He picked up her shoes with one hand then waved the other, producing a handkerchief appeared out of thin air. Her eyes widened.
Magic indeed.
He handed it to her and she dabbed her nose and eyes, realizing it was already hopeless, considering they both looked a mess. Still, her heart dropped when she looked down to see the white linen stained with blood. Was it hers? His?
Luther took the cloth from her and wiped her face gently. “I’ll do better next time.”
Next time? She’d hoped tonight was a one-time deal but apparently it wasn’t over yet. She touched her cheek, her hands shaking as she looked down at the front of her blue dress, afraid she’d see streaks of crimson there too, but there was nothing.
“We should keep moving. Are you able to walk?”
Thana wriggled her toes then nodded.
Taking her hand again, Luther slipped his fingers through hers and started down the stairs once more. Soon they stood before his apartment door. He muttered something about company arriving, then then opened the door to reveal a handsome tawny haired man on the other side. His broad build almost filled the doorway as his golden gaze settled on Luther.
Scion's Redemption Page 6