In Darkness Reborn

by Alexis Morgan

  At least Devlin had offered him a chance. Turning away from the door, Penn flexed his hands and considered the irony of it all. An Other had taken away his ability to fight, and now he had to depend on one to give it back.

  A sense of calm poured through his veins as he picked up his keys and prepared to drive to the Center to be fitted for a new sword. A new weapon, a new life, and an old enemy to face.

  “Hey, Penn, you’re looking pretty clean cut for sitting out on the sidewalk.”

  Penn clenched his teeth. Ben Jackson was at least the seventh person who’d made the same or similar crack since he’d come into the Center.

  “I’m no longer on guard duty.” And if Penn kept moving fast enough, Ben wouldn’t have time to ask if that meant he was returning to the tunnels. The Paladins didn’t bother to ask. If he’d been recalled to normal duty, the news would have flown through the ranks like wildfire.

  “Hey, well, congratulations, Penn. That’s terrific news. I bet you’re thrilled to be back in the trenches.” Ben slapped him on the back a little too enthusiastically. “What say I buy you a beer in celebration?”

  It took some effort, but Penn managed to smile at the IT specialist. “I’ll hold you to that offer, but I’m not back on the roster yet. Devlin has something else in mind for me than sitting on my ass out in the alley, though. I guess that’s good news.”

  Ben’s excitement didn’t dim by even a flicker, making Penn more suspicious than ever. Why had he singled out Penn for so much attention? He’d taken to stopping and talking every time Penn was out on the sidewalk, almost as if he’d been watching for him. Maybe Penn shouldn’t be so distrustful, but he hadn’t been known for having a charming personality even before his injury. Now he could hardly be civil to anyone, including his own sister.

  Ben’s behavior was making Penn’s hackles rise, enough so that he didn’t want to blow the guy off. There’d been rumors about some pretty weird stuff going down lately, what with the renegade guard and all, and maybe Ben was part of it. But Penn wouldn’t say anything to Devlin until he had something more solid than just his gut feeling to go on.

  “Tell you what. If I get a chance, I’ll stop in the bar up the street after I get done. If you’re there, I’ll let you buy me that beer.”

  He managed to dodge Ben’s effort to slap him on the shoulder. “Great! I’ll see you then.”

  Penn walked on toward Devlin’s office, pausing to look back at the man. Yeah, something was up; he only wished he knew what it was.

  Lacey shook her head to make sure she’d heard correctly. “Are you sure he said Penn? As in my brother, the one who hates your guts?”

  Barak looked up from the data he’d been entering into the computer for her and nodded. “Yes, I am to meet your brother in the gym this afternoon after I finish here.”

  “But why on earth would Devlin pick you to spar with Penn?”

  What kind of game was Devlin playing? Did he want her brother to kill Barak for him since he couldn’t do it himself? No, that didn’t make sense. Devlin Bane wasn’t known for his subtlety.

  Barak shrugged. “I would guess it has something to do with your brother’s hand.”

  Oh, no! Lately, she’d suspected Penn hadn’t been very diligent about doing the exercises the therapist had given him, but surely his hand had been improving. Maybe not, if Penn’s increasing anger was any indicator.

  “You’re not a doctor or a therapist,” she said, suddenly realizing how little she really knew about her new assistant. Except he had a way of making her hormones stand up and take notice whenever he walked into the room. Or when he looked in her direction with those spooky silver eyes. Or…

  “No, I’m not.” He turned to face her. “From what little Devlin said, your brother needs to change sword hands if he can. Like Devlin, I am able to fight with either hand. Perhaps that is what he thinks I can teach your brother.”

  “Penn’s not going to like this.”

  Barak tried unsuccessfully to hide a nasty little smile. “No, he won’t.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a disapproving look. “I know he’s been a total jerk around you, but he’s had a hard time with this injury.”

  “What your brother needs is a swift kick in the ass, to borrow one of Cullen’s colorful phrases. Penn isn’t the only Paladin to suffer this kind of injury, and feeling sorry for himself won’t help him get back his sword. Working out against me might.”

  She couldn’t argue with his logic, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “Can I watch?”

  “No.”

  “And why not?”

  “Devlin promised your brother that we would give him privacy, especially at the beginning. At first Penn will be clumsy fighting left-handed. Spectators will only make it more difficult for him.”

  She grudgingly accepted defeat. “Fine. Just make sure that this extra duty doesn’t interfere with your work here. And remember, we’re scheduled for another trip to the mountains tomorrow.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. I’ve heard and read a great deal about Mount St. Helens. It will be nice to meet her in person.” He picked up his clipboard and began writing down more numbers.

  He wasn’t the only one excited about the trip. It was a pretty drive, right up until the moment you reached the highest tourist center and looked right out at that brooding mammoth of a mountain. Mount Rainier and Mount Baker were volcanoes, too, but they hid their anger better.

  It would be interesting to see Barak’s reaction to the lady, as he called the volcano. She watched him work for a few more seconds before returning to her office. Ever since their trip down to the tunnels a few days ago, she’d found herself staring at him far too often.

  Neither of them had mentioned their brief kiss or the phone call they’d shared that night. And Barak’s thoughts were impossible to read. He was the perfect coworker: courteous, punctual, diligent.

  She had nothing to complain about, but she found herself wanting to pick a fight. Yet whenever she criticized his work, he nodded and made the corrections without complaint. His eyes followed her whenever he thought she wouldn’t notice, but she hadn’t confronted him about it.

  He was her brother’s enemy, but not hers. From the first moment she’d met him, Barak hadn’t fit the image of an Other that she’d grown up with. But just as she’d started thinking of him as a friend, the memory of him smiling over the corpses in the tunnels jolted her into remembering he’d probably killed his share of Paladins and Guards.

  “How many of my people have you killed?” The question had been hanging unasked between them from the beginning. She didn’t regret its slipping out; she only hoped that she didn’t regret his answer.

  Barak stared at her with those odd eyes and slowly stood. He walked toward her, forcing her to either stand her ground or retreat to her office.

  She took a step in Barak’s direction and widened her stance. He stopped close enough that she could feel his body heat, and a deep breath filled her senses with his scent.

  “Why do you want to know?” He cocked his head to one side and studied her face.

  “We spend a great deal of time with just the two of us. I think I have a right to know what kind of man you are.”

  “I’ve been here for some time, Lacey. Why all of a sudden are you worried about your safety? Have I in any way threatened you?” His eyebrows snapped together, the first sign of real temper he’d ever directed at her.

  “No, but—”

  “Is this about that day in the tunnel? If I hadn’t killed those men, Trahern or Bane would have. Would that have been easier for you to accept, one human killing another?” He inched closer, his anger coming at her in waves.

  “No, it’s not about that.” But it was, and about so much more.

  “Are you afraid I’ll hurt your precious brother? If you’ll recall, he’s always been the one to start the fight, not me.”

  He started to reach toward her, the sudden motion causi
ng her to flinch. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but he’d been pushed as far as he was going to be pushed.

  His hands clamped onto her upper arms, but not hard enough to leave bruises. “I have given you no reason to fear me, Lacey. You want answers to your question. Fine.” He pulled her closer, staring down at her with his pale eyes. “I have killed until the thought of it makes me sick, and I have seen my people die on your Paladins’ swords for no reason other than the color of their eyes.”

  She wanted to protest the horror of the picture he painted with his words. “I didn’t think—”

  “That’s right, you didn’t think. Nobody does. All our two peoples know is endless death and butchery.” He let go of her as suddenly as he’d grabbed her.

  The grief in his voice melted into her heart. As he started for the door, she said, “Barak, stop.”

  She thought he’d ignore her, but he paused to look back at her. Something in the heat of his expression gave her the courage to say, “Come back.”

  “Why? So you can burden me with more of your questions? Why don’t you seek out your brother instead and ask him how many of my kind he has spitted on the end of his sword, or why he’s so anxious to kill more?” He took a shuddering breath. “At least I walked away from the madness.”

  He resumed his march to the door, but she caught up with him before he could open it. He stared at her hand on his arm. “Touch me at your own risk, Lacey. I have given you time to adjust to what happened between us in the tunnel, but I grow weary of waiting. Either step back or accept the consequences.”

  God help her, she couldn’t retreat. This was the wrong man, the wrong time, the wrong everything, but she wasn’t going to let him walk away.

  She slid her hand up his arm to his shoulder, feeling the strength in his muscles and liking it. Sliding between him and the door, she smiled, even if it was a bit shaky. Some of the tension in his stance faded as he wrapped her in his arms, his mouth crushing down on hers, a warrior claiming his prize.

  His kiss gentled, content to let the heat build at its own pace. Lacey teased his tongue with her own, smiling when he groaned with deep pleasure. She reached up and tugged the strip of leather off his ponytail. He murmured his approval as she fisted her fingers in his shoulder-length hair. It felt like rough silk to the touch.

  His hands were doing a little exploring of their own, trailing down her ribs to her waist and on to trace the curve of her hips. When he cupped her bottom with both hands and squeezed, she thought she was going to come right then. Breathing was becoming difficult. He broke off the kiss long enough to pick her up and set her down on the nearest counter.

  Without asking permission, he parted her knees and stepped between them. The counter was the right height to bring the center of her body in direct contact with his. When he flexed his hips, letting her feel the powerful strength of his need, she moaned and pulled him closer for a long, hot kiss.

  His hand slipped between them to test the weight of her breasts. She was no innocent, but nothing she’d ever experienced had prepared her for such intensity from a lover. She wanted him to take her right then, right there on the lab counter. It was crazy and risky and she didn’t care. But when she reached for the buttons on his shirt, he stilled her hands.

  His breathing was ragged. “Lacey, we can’t, not here.”

  He was right, but that didn’t make it easy to hear. He rested his forehead against hers as he lifted her hands up to sprinkle a few light kisses across her knuckles. At least he was only banking the fire, not trying to extinguish it altogether.

  “I want you, Lacey. I spend far too many hours thinking about how it would be to hold you naked in my arms as I pleasure you every way I can think of. The thought of taking you makes me ache.” His silver eyes held hers prisoner.

  The image had her demanding his kiss again. When she tugged him closer, he came willingly.

  But then he said, “But before we go any farther, you have to make sure this is what you really want. I won’t take a lover who is embarrassed to be seen with me in public, or who only takes me to her bed when she’s sure that no one will know.”

  His words cut through to her heart, even though his intention was to protect them both. He was right. Kissing him in a fit of temper or even to offer comfort was one thing. Letting everyone in the organization—not to mention her brother—know that she’d invited their enemy into her bed would be a disaster.

  He must have read her answer in her eyes, because he stepped away, giving her one more measuring look as he left the lab, letting the door swing shut behind him. She’d done the right thing; she knew that for a fact.

  So why did it hurt so much?

  The gym door opened. Barak picked up the sword he’d chosen from the rack and turned to face his opponent. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or angry that Penn Sebastian wasn’t alone. Evidently Devlin felt that one of them needed a babysitter for this first practice session.

  “Barak,” Devlin said by way of greeting.

  Penn glared at Barak and remained silent. Fine. Barak’s encounter with Lacey back in the lab had left him irritable as hell. There was no better target for his temper than her jerk of a brother.

  Devlin stripped off his shirt and tossed it down in the corner. Penn did the same, so Barak followed suit. The gym was hot and would only grow more uncomfortable as the afternoon wore on.

  As usual, Devlin took charge. “I started Penn on a weight routine yesterday to help build up the strength in his arms. But he’ll also need help learning to respond with his off hand.”

  Barak nodded in agreement before starting a series of stretches to warm up his muscles. After a few seconds Devlin and Penn stopped their own warm-ups to watch. Barak continued, letting the death dance absorb some of his anger. A fighter who let his emotions overrule his concentration stood a good chance of being hurt or killed, even in a practice match. After a bit, the other two resumed their own workouts, leaving him to finish undisturbed.

  Barak ignored Penn and spoke to Devlin. “Do you want him working mostly with his right hand, or should he concentrate on his left?”

  “He needs both.”

  “He is right here, Bane. If the Other has questions about me, I’ll answer them.”

  “His name is Barak, Penn. Use his name or shut up. Barak has moves that I can’t hope to duplicate. Maybe if you’d spend less time being an asshole and more time watching him, you might pick up a few tips.”

  “I know how to kill his kind, Bane. That’s the only tip I need.” Penn picked up his sword in his right hand with a belligerent look on his face.

  Barak didn’t know what kind of game Bane was playing by pitting Penn against him, but he didn’t like it. “I do not need this. I’m leaving.”

  Devlin promptly planted himself in Barak’s path. “I don’t give a damn what you need or don’t need. The deal is that you will earn your keep around here, and the Regents have left it up to me to decide exactly what that means. I’ve decided that it means you’ll teach Penn to fight left-handed. Tomorrow I might decide differently, but you’re not walking out of here until I say you can.”

  Penn sneered, “And if I refuse to work with him? Will you send his ass back across the barrier where he belongs, or kill him like you should have in the first place?”

  “Enough!” Devlin let loose a roundhouse punch that sent Penn stumbling backwards into the nearest wall. “Pick up your sword and do what Barak says.”

  He stomped out of the gym, leaving Barak and Penn to fend for themselves. Did he trust them that much, or had they pushed him so far that he didn’t really care if they killed each other?

  The idea was tempting. But as angry as he was with Lacey at the moment, Barak still could not bring himself to kill her brother. For her sake, and not Devlin’s, he would teach Penn what he could.

  Barak switched his sword to his left hand and held it up in a mock salute. “So, shall we kill each other and simplify Bane’s life, or continue to aggravate him b
y surviving this little farce of his?”

  Penn stared at his right hand as he opened and closed it a couple of times, each time forcing it closer into the correct grip. It obviously hurt him, but he seemed determined to make it work. Then he switched hands and held up his sword, trying to mimic the same grace that he had with his right.

  “Bring it on, Other. I’m ready.”

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  The drinks were cold, which was all Barak could find to like about the dingy neighborhood bar. Glancing at Penn, he wondered which of them was more surprised at ending up sharing a booth and a beer.

  Back in the gym, they’d worn each other out with blunted weapons. It had been some time since he’d served as an instructor, but the old habits were still there. He’d challenged Penn when he’d shown progress, and he’d used the flat side of the blade to correct him when he’d gotten careless or clumsy.

  Afterward, when they’d been leaving the building, Penn had mentioned he was meeting someone at the bar right up the street. The comment hadn’t exactly been an invitation, but when they’d reached the bar, Penn had offered to buy Barak a cold one.

  Barak wasn’t sure what the Paladin was up to, but one afternoon of swordplay did not mean they were friends, especially if Penn ever found out what Barak had been doing with his sister. Barak leaned back in the booth and took another long drink of his beer. The cold liquid slid down his throat, easing his thirst but doing nothing to erase the taste of Lacey’s kiss or the memory of how the fullness of her breast had fit his hand.

  His body stirred in memory of her sweet, hot response to his touch. Maybe he’d been a fool not to take what she’d offered, but she deserved better than a quick tussle on a lab counter. They both did. But if he’d blown his one chance to couple with her, he’d never forgive himself.

  Penn was too busy watching the door to pay much attention to Barak. Who was coming that had the volatile Paladin on edge? Penn’s fingers drummed a relentless beat on the tabletop as he sat up a little taller each time the door opened to afford him a view of the latest arrival. After he slumped back down in the corner of the booth for the third time, Barak drained his beer and set it down.