Echo, Mine

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  Nodding, Echo spread the aged scroll open. She’d never seen a chart like this one. She rubbed her arms as an eerie sensation slithered through her when she stared at the scroll. It was almost like she could see the entire circle shimmer, and the symbols reform, reaching for her and pulling her mind beyond the doorway, through the veils…

  Her heart clipping hard, she yanked free from its hold.

  “What is it?” Lore asked, watching her closely.

  She shook her head.

  “Very well. You’ll need to understand their magical aspect, how they work, and be able to wield it—but that’s for later—now, let’s get back to this—” Lore tapped the open page of the enormous ancient textbook in front of her, bringing her attention back to the lesson, then he began pacing the length of the desk and back again as he continued talking.

  Pushing aside that eerie moment with the angelic runes, Echo flipped to another page on the history of the angels and their ranks, with details of their capabilities.

  Who knew that her ancestor would turn out to be Zarias, the leader of The Watchers, when she didn't even have any family? But she had inherited his gifts. Now, as the Healer, she alone possessed the ability to repair any rips appearing in the mystical veil, the barrier protecting the earthly realm from supernatural evil.

  As Lore droned on and on about honing her heightened senses to be aware of things she couldn’t see, her attention drifted to the window. Her thoughts turned to her problems once more as the sun dropped below the trees in the distance.

  Aethan had to realize and understand, no matter how annoyingly slender and fragile she looked, he’d made her immortal when he brought her back with his deadly power. She wasn't so breakable now. Nothing could happen to her. Why did he ignore that particular little detail?

  “…Zarias was a great warrior. But he made bad choices.”

  At the sudden change in topic, Echo snapped her gaze away from the window and narrowed them at the angel’s comment.

  What the heck was his problem? Always branding humans as too weak, not good enough to match up to an immortal. It hiked up her ire. “Because he fell in love with a human?”

  She’d been mortal once, and she understood better than most how hard it was, but she hadn’t simply sat on her ass and waited for handouts. She’d fought for every damn thing she had.

  “Indeed. Had he kept to the laws, we wouldn’t have this need to train you as the Healer. You show no enthusiasm, constantly staring through the window.”

  Echo scowled. “You know, Lore, you're simply prejudiced.”

  In a flash, he was in front of her, all six-feet of sunset-hued wings emerging. Hands on the desk, he leaned close, his vibrating wings causing a breeze to flutter the bangs from her brow.

  “No, little Healer”—his silvery-green eyes flared—“I'm a realist. Angels are here to do their jobs, and that is to help humans in need. To guide them when it’s deemed necessary, not to form attachments.” He stepped back. “Right, then. Now that I have your undivided attention, let’s recap what was learned.” A beam of orange light leaped from his hand, hissing toward her like a deadly missile.

  Echo dove sideways, her chair crashing to the floor, and her heart slamming against her ribs. She glared at him. “What the hell, Lore?”

  “Profanity doesn’t become you, Healer.” He circled her. “Did you think I’d treat you like a babe? You need to toughen up.”

  She sidestepped the fallen chair, adrenaline rushing through her, but she kept a safe distance from him. Dammit, now Lore chose to spring this physical session on her without warning? At least it pulled her out of her lethargy and kept her mind occupied. She eyed him warily, all her focus on his hand.

  “Zarias was a great warrior despite his weakness,” Lore informed her. “You daydream of your warrior when you should be sharpening your senses to predict an unexpected attack—and shield. Fighting supernatural beings with vast powers will be dangerous—”

  Before she could blink, another orange beam whistled through the air, striking her dead in the stomach. She stumbled and fell on her ass. Shit! That freakin’ hurt. It took her several tries before she could breathe easily again.

  “Be thankful that wasn’t at full strength or you’d be trailing your guts about.”

  His haughty tone had her blood boiling in fury. Echo jumped to her feet, her ass protesting painfully at the movement. Summoning her obsidian dagger, she flung it with all the anger and frustration raging inside her, nailing Lore in the stomach. “Be thankful it wasn’t your damn groin! And don’t read my bloody thoughts!”

  Lore stared at the weapon lodged in his belly. He removed it, gaping in disbelief at the black blade gleaming wet with his blood.

  What do you know? The sanctimonious one does bleed red.

  Other than the heightened senses she now possessed, and her old talent of seeing auras, she hadn't appeared to inherit anything else since she’d been brought back. She was really glad that she had her mystical weapon though. The one she stole from Aethan when she’d first met him, not realizing it was actually her dagger—the one only his true mate could wield. It only responded to her now.

  Echo willed the dagger back to her. The moment it took form in her hand, she snatched a scrap of paper from the desk and cleaned the blade. “You didn't know, did you?” she asked smugly. “That I can actually call my own weapon?”

  Another bolt of light struck her in the chest. She tripped and landed against the desk, struggling to breathe as pain ripped through her. Her grip tightened on her dagger. God, she was going to carve that damn fiend into tiny angel pieces and then toss his arrogant carcass over the cliffs for the fish to feed on.

  His eyebrow shot to his hairline. “Feed me to the fish?”

  “You’d be lucky if I didn’t dance on your bloody corpse first—and stop reading my damn mind,” she snapped. “Or we’ll find out if my blade can kill angels, too!”

  “It’s good you have that weapon,” Lore continued once more, like he hadn’t just had a blade embedded in his belly. “Your fighting skills are atrocious. You have no coordination, and certainly no clue how to block a psychic attack, let alone your thoughts—”

  Echo pulled back her fist and rammed it into the angel’s jaw. His head snapped back. Aww—crap! That bloody hurt!

  She tightened her shields over her thoughts and shook her fingers, trying to ease the spreading pain. After her earlier gym session with a punching bag, her knuckles had taken a beating.

  Lore touched his jaw and eyed her silently for a long second. “There is hope for you yet, Healer.”

  Praise? That surprised her. “Gee, thanks.”

  Her sarcasm washing over him, he waved his hand over his belly. The bleeding stopped and the red wetness staining his tunic vanished, but the rip remained. “Let’s resume—”

  “No. That’s it for the evening.” Aethan walked in, dressed in leathers and a dark gray dress shirt. That surprised her; he usually wore crewnecks or a t-shirt while on the job.

  Echo cut her man a quick smile and pushed away from the table, her sore fingers and backside forgotten. If he found out she’d engaged in a fighting session with Lore, and that he’d used his powers, Aethan would probably kill the angel. Despite Lore being a pain in the ass, she didn't want that. He was a good tutor.

  Aethan glanced at her and paused. His gaze skimmed over her newly cut hair…heat flared in those stormy gray depths. Oh, yes. Step one seemed to be working. Step two needed a little more planning. She had to drive him crazy—so crazy that he’d stop thinking and just react, like in the rec room.

  He crossed to her, his attention shifting to the toppled chair behind the huge mahogany desk. Despite his hardening expression, he lightly stroked her upper arm. “What’s going on?”

  A light tingle of his power streamed through her, throwing her libido into high gear. The man was tossing out all sorts of aroused vibes but still remained in complete control. Shit. He was supposed to cave, not her.


  “Nothing,” she reassured him. Stepping away, she righted the chair and admitted the truth. Well, some of it. “Lore decided on a practice session—”

  “Which she’s never going to be ready for, Guardian, if there is an urgent need for her gifts,” Lore informed him. “I’ll send her to you when I'm…satisfied.”

  Aethan’s features turned to stone. Divine angels didn't take mates, but Lore appeared to like needling Aethan.

  “If you don’t want to live, just say the word. I can and will end you—”

  “Aethan,” Echo interrupted him before blood splattered the walls. “Did you need me for something?”

  His cold gaze remained fixed on Lore for a second longer, then he looked at her and his expression softened. “Yes. We’re going out.”

  They were? It was so unexpected that she spun to Lore. “We’ll continue tomorrow.”

  A quizzical look on his face, Lore stared at her for a second then shrugged. “Very well, Healer. Until tomorrow but you will have an extra hour to make up.”

  Of course he’d tack on more time. “Okay.”

  Lore waved his hand and the English text in the ancient book became a jumble of strange, unreadable scripts. The book slammed shut. In a shimmer of silvery sparks, Lore and the book vanished.

  So…” She turned to Aethan, curiosity filling her. “Where are we going? To Gran’s?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “No. I thought er- dinner somewhere…a restaurant maybe?”

  Her mouth opened, then shut. That she didn't expect. Aethan and the other Guardians usually kept beneath the radar of humans when not on patrol. “You mean like a date?”

  “I guess that’s the right word.”

  Despite the fact that she’d so rarely dated before she’d met Aethan, and she desperately wanted this, she didn't say anything. She studied him quietly. Nothing showed on his face, but being so intrinsically linked with him, she sensed his uneasiness. “You don’t want to, do you?”

  Instantly, the tension in him vanished. Determination realigned the hard lines of his sculptured jaw. Yup, her mate had a core of intractable stubborn but when he put his mind to something, even if he didn't like it, he’d do it.

  His gaze softened and his hands settled on her hips, his thumb caressing her hypersensitive skin. “As long as it’s with you, I’ll do anything. Now, how much time do you need to get ready?”

  Except trying to treat her like she was normal. Her heart tightened at the thought, then she stilled. Going out on this sultry, romantic evening? Suddenly, the night had endless possibilities.

  Not giving him a chance to say anything else, she sprinted from the library and shouted over her shoulder, “Half an hour! No, wait, make that twenty minutes.”

  There was no time to waste. A little out of breath already just from the sprint into the passage, she skittered to a stop, spun around, popped her head through the doorway, and grinned at Aethan with unleashed anticipation. “Back in fifteen.”

  As she hurried down the corridor toward the grand staircase, her mind flipped through what to wear, and she skated to a halt. Kira. She had to tell her friend first. Pivoting, she ran back to the kitchen and gaped. Pans and bowls littered every corner of the countertop, surrounded with flour dust. A ready-to-topple stack of dishes filled the sink. The faint, suspicious smell of something burnt lingered in the air, despite the open doors.

  Hedori gave her a defeated smile, but his eyes crinkled in amusement.

  Echo wasn’t really surprised at the mess, having lived through them at times.

  Kira beamed. “Hey, you're done? Good—I made biscuits and gravy.” She lifted a spoonful of something lumpy from a pot. “Come. Taste.”

  Echo hastily stepped back. “Er, maybe later. Ki, can I take a rain check on the movies? Aethan wants to take me out to dinner.”

  “Of course!” A wicked grin widened Kira’s mouth. “See? Just have faith—now, you go knock his socks off.”

  “Yeah, about that…” Echo grimaced. She’d be the first to admit, she wasn’t too clued in to dressing sexy. She usually tried to dress as modestly as possible, considering she had her over-working pheromone problem to deal with—a bane in her life that attracted anything with a Y chromosome. Mostly, she lived in her jeans or sweats. But Kira could throw on whatever, even wearing a simple, flowing blue strappy dress and leather sandals, and look like a million dollars. “I need help selecting something to wear.”

  “Yesss.” Kira rubbed her hands in glee. “Finally. Lead on, my friend. Your very own fashionista is here. Let’s go get you all dolled up for this evening’s seduction—”

  The door opened and Týr strolled in. His pale hair a total windblown mess, a smile brought out his masculine dimples. Big and gorgeous, that was Týr. “Echo, could I—” His gaze shifted to Kira, his pleasant tone dissipating like mist. “Fluffy.”

  Kira smiled sweetly, but her tone could cut stone. “Visigoth.”

  Echo had to bite back her smile. Yeah, no love lost there. Scowling, Týr opened his mouth to say something then shut it and glanced back to Echo. “Can I have a minute?”

  “Sure.” She followed him out.

  Three minutes later, Echo stood frozen in the foyer like one of the many armored statues there, staring at Tyr. Floored at what he’d just revealed. “You're kidding me, right? What do you mean Aethan refuses to go to the club?”

  “No, I'm not. Look, if he simply didn't like the club, then that’s okay—but after what happened last fall, we cannot even mention Anarchy to him. I just thought you should know.”

  “Because I was there with Jon? But it meant nothing. I wasn't actually with him. It was Kira’s birthday!”

  Týr shrugged.

  Her heart clipped painfully. She had no idea Aethan still felt that way, or that the incident with Jon had upset him so much. She had to put that right, tonight.

  Chapter 5

  A date.

  Urias. Aethan rubbed his jaw. He tended to avoid humans unless absolutely necessary—like while doing a mind sweep or occasionally healing one. Now a date. His mate had wanted that, he’d seen it in her eyes, and he had no freaking clue. At all. He’d make damn sure her twenty-fourth birthday was one she’d never forget.

  He headed for the stairs, impatient to get the evening started. Echo had gone up over a half hour ago to change. His mate’s idea of dressing was to throw on a pair of jeans. What happened to the fifteen minutes?

  He jogged upstairs and strode into their quarters. Sensing Echo in the dressing room, he made his way there and stopped dead. His heart lurched painfully.

  With her hair back to that choppy way she favored, she looked so much like her old self. He hadn't realized how much he’d missed a style he’d once thought the worst haircut ever.

  She wore a short black skirt and a sleeveless burgundy top that molded to her chest. She looked sleek, hot, and so goddamn sexy.

  Spying him through the floor-length mirror, she pivoted. Her face flushed in excitement. “I'm almost ready.”

  She’d done something to her gorgeous bi-colored eyes, lined them in black, making them even more striking. Her lips shone with a hint of gloss.

  He took a step toward her, wanting to put his mouth on hers—savor her—

  A throat cleared. Kira sat on the wooden chest, grinning at him.

  Dammit! He should have sensed that Echo wasn’t alone. He was a warrior with heightened senses for hellssake! But his mate had twisted his mind into a rope of knots.

  Echo closed the space between them, went on her toes, and lightly kissed him.

  “A few more minutes.” She stroked his chest then calmly turned back to her friend, leaving him with a taste of strawberries and warm, sensual female. And a damn hard cock. Blood pounded in his head, and every molecule in him fired up, wanting to haul her into the bedroom.

  “You sure this skirt length’s fine?” she asked Kira.

  Then his sexy as sin mate ran her hands over the hips of her skirt, and his blood lit li
ke a powered furnace. That matte, black piece of material she called a skirt stopped mid-thigh, revealing miles of toned, tan skin.

  “Or these boots won’t work.” She stuck out her leg to look at the high-heel.

  And he looked too. Black leather. Was she trying to kill him? Fuck! He wanted her legs wrapped around his waist with those damn boots on. He recalled the last time she’d worn them, their first time together…in front of the bedroom fireplace…

  Shit. Better to get out now or this dinner wasn’t happening. He didn’t want to ruin this date Echo was looking forward to. He grasped her hand and yanked her to him. A small gasp left her, her eyes widening in surprise at his aggression.

  “Kira, get Hedori to take you back home, and have a nice trip to Seattle,” he said. “C’mon, mate of mine, let’s do this date.”

  ***

  Two hours later, Echo glanced around the trendy restaurant overlooking the beach that Aethan had taken her to in the Hamptons.

  The sounds of cutlery tinkled against china, and soft voices drifted within the little place. With its wooden walls, plant-filled interior, and friendly wait-staff, she liked the restaurant’s laid-back atmosphere compared to the city’s hectic pace and crowded dining rooms. Despite the place being full, it didn't give off a crowded vibe.

  Dinner had been wonderful. Aethan had settled for a steak while she’d chosen seafood. Now that her tummy was satiated, she ignored her dessert plate with the lush strawberries and two tiny side bowls—one with melted chocolate and the other whipped cream. She wasn't a lover of sweets, but Aethan had insisted she’d try some.

  Aethan sipped his coffee, his gaze on her like it had been most of the evening. He hadn’t bothered looking around the place, but she was aware he’d probably scanned the area for trouble. She took in the restaurant and found several more gazes on them.

  Yes, people would stare.

  Some discreetly, and others not so much, considering whom she was sitting with—over six and a half feet of sculpted, gorgeous man. It didn't bother her though because Aethan was hers. And taunting him in the dressing room had been a stroke of fast thinking on her part. For the first time in weeks, his eyes had burned with pure desire, not a hint of fear or worry.