Dark Desire: Dark Series 2

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Dark Desire: Dark Series 2 Page 17

by Lauren Dawes


  Adrian looked down at the knife in his hand, his blond hair shining dully in the kitchen lights. “I don’t know, but it’s a risk I’ll have to take.”

  Korvain cursed under his breath. “You haven’t thought this through, Ad. We’re good as we are. We’ve survived.”

  “Yeah?” Adrian asked venomously. “For how much longer? You know there are gods out there still hunting us. You’re okay. You can just disappear into the shadows. Taer and I? We have to rely on our wits and fading away … well, I’m sick of running and hiding from those bastards! I want the protection Darrion can give us.”

  Korvain snapped his teeth together in agitation. He had to make Adrian see that Darrion wasn’t all that he seemed.

  “Do you know what I saw tonight? I saw Darrion kill his best Walker because his contract was up. It was his best Walker and he just rammed a knife through his throat, killing him in cold blood. Tell me what kind of master that is. Tell me if that sounds like he protects what’s his.”

  Adrian’s already pale skin blanched. “Maybe there was some other reason he killed him. Maybe he’d disobeyed an order.”

  Korvain shook his head angrily, his hands curling into tight fists. “No. I heard their conversation. It was casual and relaxed. The fucker had no idea it was coming.”

  “It doesn’t change anything,” Adrian said. “I’ve already spoken to Taer. We’re doing this and there’s nothing you can do or say to stop me.”

  Korvain’s black mood caused the shadows in the room to darken the walls, thickening with his growing rage. “He’ll kill you, Ad. He’ll kill you and he’ll kill Taer and everything you fought to protect will be lost.” Frustrated, Korvain left the room. If Adrian wouldn’t listen to reason, there really was nothing more he could say to change his mind. He would just have to take matters into his own hands.

  *

  Darrion sat in the booth of a small diner in downtown Boston, his knuckles drumming against the pale blue Formica top. He’d received a message that an untrained Mare wanted to join his guild, wanted to train as a Walker. Darrion’s ranks were already full, but if the dark elf had potential, he supposed he could make an exception.

  The human female working the diner by herself came over to refill his coffee cup, spilling a little over the side when she realized Darrion was staring at her. He’d always despised humans because of Odin’s fondness for them. They were nothing but bags of flesh and blood. They were weak. They were fragile. And they would all fall beneath his hand.

  Just as the woman walked away, a blond male approached his table, looking nervous. “Darrion?” he asked.

  Darrion looked over his shoulder, checking to see that one of his Walkers was watching the proceedings like he was supposed to. He turned his attention back to the blond male. “Sit down.”

  He did, and Darrion liked his ability to follow orders. The male looked uneasy, uncomfortable with the situation. Advantage, Darrion. He studied the Mare’s features, took in his musculature, calculating whether he could be trained to become a Shadow Walker.

  “Why did you seek me out?” he asked. The Mare had the height of a dark elf, but his hair and eyes were pale. If Darrion didn’t know any better, he could have sworn he was a light elf, but he’d seen a flash of fang when he’d spoken, and that was an entirely dark elf trait.

  “I want to join your guild.”

  “I already know this. What I want to know is why. Why now?”

  He looked Darrion in the eye. “I need protection for me and my sister.”

  Sister? “I’m listening.”

  The male’s eyes hardened, glinting dangerously. “Here’s the thing: Taer is all I have left. Nobody is to touch a hair on her head.” He leaned across the table slightly. “Including you.”

  Darrion laughed, startling him. “Who’s going to stop me?”

  “I will,” the Mare swore. “If you say anything to her, if you look at her the wrong way, I’ll just walk away. I’ll tell your rivals everything I learn about you during my time training with you. Is that something you want to risk?”

  Darrion leaned back into the booth, the vinyl squealing in protest with his movement. He had to give it to the bastard. He talked tough, but he wondered how he would hold up against the strenuous training. If he happened to get killed during the Final Test, his sister would be vulnerable, and Darrion could do whatever he wanted with her.

  The advantages far outweighed the risks. “What’s your name, Mare?”

  “Adrian.”

  Darrion took a sip of his coffee. “My standard contract is one hundred years.”

  Adrian’s shoulders rolled forward with relief. “How long is training?”

  “Twelve months. Maybe six if you excel. If you survive the Final Test, you will become agarwaen—bloodstained. The tattoo you receive when you join my guild will contain my blood. This will be our contract. Do you understand the risks? Do you know what you’re asking for?”

  Adrian opened his mouth to reply, but his head whirled around when someone called his name. Darrion looked up, his eyes settling on a nearly seven foot Mare with shadow-filled eyes and a snarl on his lips. His frame was stacked with muscle, his arms and legs nearly triple the size of most other Mares Darrion had seen. Darrion sensed the power within him, and that made him pay real attention.

  “Korvain, I told you that you couldn’t stop me doing this,” Adrian said hotly.

  “I know,” the Mare replied, turning his dark eyes to Darrion. They stared blankly at each other for a good long while. “That’s why I’m here. I’m joining the guild, too.”

  Darrion smirked at Adrian’s outraged cry. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because we stick together, my brother,” Korvain replied, dragging a nearby seat close to the table and lowering himself into it. “Always.”

  Darrion couldn’t believe his luck. Three Mares for the price of one? Hell, even if Adrian did get killed, it was worth the deal if this one, this Korvain, was part of the package. “So what do you say?” Korvain asked.

  Darrion stared back at this new male, this monstrosity of a dark elf. The power in his blood seemed to flood the air, saturating it. Darrion breathed him in, wondering how he could seal the deal.

  “You ever had any training before?” he asked Korvain, leveling him with a hard stare.

  The Mare’s chin tilted up in defiance. “I’ve defended myself when I’ve had to.”

  “So you have had some training before,” Darrion surmised. “Who trained you?”

  Korvain’s lips tightened. He wasn’t going to say any more, but Darrion didn’t care. He wanted this one. He could see the potential.

  “My standard contract is a century.”

  Korvain’s lip pulled up, revealing his impressive fangs, confirming Darrion’s suspicions that the bastard came from nearly pure blood. “No contracts. I’ll be there as long as Adrian and his sister are.”

  “I won’t have an uncontracted Mare in my guild. You sign my contract or no deal.”

  Korvain looked at Adrian. “You don’t need to do this,” Adrian implored. “This is my decision. It’s what’s best for Taer and me.”

  “And this is what’s best for me.” Turning his attention back to Darrion, Korvain leaned his huge forearms on the table, making the furniture creak beneath his weight. “Fifty.”

  Darrion bared his teeth. “Ninety.”

  Korvain’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Darrion could feel the cold hatred boiling off him. “Sixty.”

  “Eighty and nothing less.”

  The Mare’s hands clenched into tight fists. The leather of his jacket crackled with the flexing of his muscles. “Seventy. Final offer.”

  That was more than enough time for Darrion to take advantage of him. “Deal,” he agreed, getting up and moving away from the table. As he passed, Korvain’s fist shot out, his strong fingers wrapping around Darrion’s wrist, bringing him to an abrupt stop. Darrion glared down at him.

  “Taer stays under our protection,”
Korvain said. “You don’t lay a hand on her … ever. And I do the Final Test with the current quinary.”

  Darrion hated being told what to do, but he wasn’t stupid enough to pass up this deal. “Fine,” he replied through gritted teeth. “Anything else?”

  The bastard had the nerve to smile. “Yeah. To make sure you keep your hands off Taer, she, Adrian and I will live away from the guild.” He arched one eyebrow in challenge, and Darrion had to bite his tongue. This sonofabitch was going to be the fucking death of him.

  “I agree, but on one more condition.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’ll be training you personally, and that’s non-negotiable.”

  Korvain barked a throaty, mocking laugh. “You couldn’t teach me anything new,” he sneered.

  “I bet I could,” he replied coolly. Wrenching his wrist out of Korvain’s grip, he stalked towards the door. “Training starts tomorrow morning,” he threw over his shoulder, not waiting for the response.

  He faded from the diner, completely and utterly pleased with himself. He had just secured perhaps one of the last pure-blooded Mares in the whole of the Nine Worlds—hell, maybe even the last one—and he would make the bastard pay for every single bad decision he had ever made.

  Chapter 24

  Eir couldn’t help glancing up at Mason every few seconds. She still couldn’t believe how their relationship had blossomed. He knew everything about her, about her world, and she was … relieved. She didn’t have to worry about trying to explain things to him.

  She smiled as she looked down at Sophie. She could have sworn the dog had a huge grin on her face.

  “She looks like she loves this,” Eir said, breaking the silence. Mason’s thoughts were obviously elsewhere. He had been distant ever since Korvain had barked something to him on the phone.

  His eyes darted around them before settling on her face. The sun had just begun to rise, the first rays hitting Mason’s face, highlighting the flecks of green in his eyes. “She certainly loves being taken out,” he replied absently, his eyes still troubled.

  “Did Korvain say something to you?” she asked when his eyes made another sweep of the immediate area.

  That got his attention. “When?”

  “Just before, on the phone.”

  There was a beat of silence. Mason pressed his lips together, his jaw tightening up too. “What can you …” he started, looking away a moment later. “Forget it,” he said dismissively.

  She placed her hand on his forearm, slowing his steps. His concern for her bombarded Eir’s senses. “Finish what you were going to say,” she encouraged.

  He met her eyes briefly then said, “What can you tell me about Darrion?”

  Eir’s heart stopped for a moment before resuming its usual rhythm, although it was pounding a little more quickly than normal. She honestly didn’t know very much about the Mare Korvain had called master, but she feared him because Korvain feared him.

  “I honestly don’t know anything about him. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason,” he muttered in reply, still looking around, his eyes never settling on one spot for more than a few seconds.

  “Is that what Korvain spoke to you about? Is that why you’re being so vigilant?”

  He grunted, and Eir thought it was in agreement. She smiled at his protective streak, amused by the idea that he would be able to protect her should Darrion come looking for her. She was a Valkyrie. She could summon a blade that could kill with a single stroke, yet the idea of Mason going into battle for her made those butterflies flutter in her stomach once more.

  They were only a block away from the hospital now, the sun touching Eir’s face, warming her skin. She sighed deeply.

  “A penny for your thoughts?” Mason said.

  She saw that he was staring down at her. “For the first time, I don’t wish to go to work,” she admitted.

  “And why is that?”

  She reached up and hooked a tentative hand into his elbow. “I don’t want this day to end.”

  They arrived at the hospital entrance, where Sophie sat patiently at Mason’s feet while they said their goodbyes. Boldly, he took Eir’s hand in his, bringing it to his mouth and brushing his lips against her knuckles. “I don’t want this day to end either.”

  His words were a steady rumble that sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine. Eir looked into his eyes, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

  “I should get inside,” she replied softly. “Will I see you later on, at the club?”

  A slight smile hitched up one side of his mouth. Eir felt as if there were a million other things that needed to be said, but she found that all the air had left her lungs. Bobbing her head one final time, she turned towards the double glass doors.

  “Eir?” Mason called.

  She turned back.

  “Thank you for being so understanding about … what I told you earlier.”

  She could see it pained him to say the words, but she also knew there was much more buried within him. She had felt his pain when he’d comforted her only an hour earlier.

  “We all have secrets,” she said. Mason’s eyes shot to her face.

  “That we do,” he agreed. Once again he brushed her knuckles with his mouth. “I’ll see you later.”

  Eir entered the hospital in a kind of daze. Never before had a man captivated her in this way, and she hadn’t the slightest idea why.

  “Damn, girl, where do you find these men?” Stacy called out as Eir approached reception. “Please tell me that kiss was more than just a friendly goodbye.”

  Eir couldn’t ignore the flutter of excitement in her chest. She shrugged. “I’m just lucky, I guess.” She moved past the reception desk and into the staffroom before Stacy could launch into another one of her interrogations.

  No sooner had she stepped into her scrubs and put her clothes into her locker than Mark tapped on her opened locker door. “Hey.”

  “Hey, Mark. How’s it going?”

  He looked down at his feet—a sure sign he wasn’t just there for a friendly chat. “I saw you talking to a guy out the front.”

  “Yes?”

  There was a long, drawn-out pause. Eir could practically see him trying to find the words to say to her. “Are you seeing him?” he blurted out clumsily.

  Eir gazed up at him, unsurprised to see a flame of color bruising his cheeks. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  The muscle in Mark’s jaw bounced. “Is he your boyfriend? Are you seeing him?” Eir couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or angry.

  She laid a hand on his shoulder, clearly startling him. “Mark, he’s not my boyfriend,” she said. “He’s just a friend who walked me to work.”

  The light elf looked truly relieved at the news and visibly relaxed. “Right, well, the reason I came in here was to ask you for another favor.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. I want to know if you’d come and see Mr. Adamsen again. His treatment starts today, and he’s nervous. I was wondering whether you could …” He wiggled his fingers.

  She smiled easily at him. “Of course I can.”

  Eir followed the light elf out of the staffroom and to the elevators that would take them up to the oncology ward.

  “So, how have you been?” Mark asked when the doors slid closed.

  “I’ve been busy. You?”

  He shrugged. “Same old, same old, I guess.”

  “What time do you finish?”

  Mark looked down, staring at his shoes. “I finished an hour ago. I was waiting for you to come in so you could see Mr. Adamsen.”

  His answer shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. She really had to nip this infatuation in the bud.

  “Mark, you know that—”

  He waved her words away. “I know, Eir. I just wanted Mr. Adamsen to have the best around him before he went through with this treatment.” He looked away. “I’m really worried about him. I don’t think he’ll be able to pull through this.�
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  Eir placed her hand on his forearm, instantly feeling the fear and concern he had for his patient. This was what made him a great nurse. “I’ll see what I can do for him,” she said.

  She knew from the last time she’d seen Mr. Adamsen that Mark was right—he probably wouldn’t survive this treatment. The elevator doors slid open, and Mark placed his hand on the small of Eir’s back to lead her out and towards the private room where she’d first seen Mr. Adamsen.

  The frail old man lying on the bed hardly moved when she and Mark entered the room. The muted whir and subtle beep of machines filled the space.

  Eir approached the bed her eyes focused on the shallow rise and fall of Mr. Adamsen’s fragile chest. She looked over her shoulder at Mark, who was standing at the door to the room. He gave her a small, encouraging smile, and she turned back around.

  Carefully, she drew the blanket down Mr. Adamsen’s chest, exposing the thin gown all patients wore. Placing both hands on his chest, she closed her eyes and let the power that had always flowed through her veins surge into the human’s cancer-riddled body. The man gasped almost inaudibly, his paper-thin eyelids fluttering, but not opening.

  Eir let out a steady breath and let her power work the way it needed to. With each inhalation, she could feel the cancer in her body like it was in his, spreading through her blood, infiltrating her organs. She pressed her lips together and held on for just a little longer.

  Mr. Adamsen groaned in relief, letting Eir know that her work was done. He would sleep peacefully for a while now, but Eir would need a few hours to recover.

  “Thank you,” Mark whispered into her ear. She tensed at his closeness, but forced herself to relax. Casually stepping away, she turned to face him. “It was my pleasure. I’d better get to work.”

  She moved towards the door, letting herself out and sagging against the wall. Eir flexed her burning hands a few times, trying to work the tingle from her palms.

  Well, one hour down. Only eleven more to go.

  Chapter 25

  Taer felt like death. Korvain had wakened her from a brief, fitful sleep a few moments ago, but it was a mercy, really. She had been dreaming again—dreaming about blood, gasping final breaths and the undeniable stench of death. Taer would rather stay awake than suffer that dark torture.

 

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