A knock on the bathroom door distracted him. Xever walked inside, looking alert, his eyes back to their usual storm-gray. Good. His warriors were back and had powered up.
Xever glanced at Sebris’s wound. “What happened?”
“Had an encounter with the Empyrean. Call the others.”
Nodding, Xever left the bathroom.
Sebris headed for his dressing room, found a clean white shirt, and pulled it on. He snagged the vodka from the dresser, poured a shot, and took a draft of the drink, relishing in the fiery buzz the liquor gave him. Then he walked into the bedroom, straightening his shirt as Xever, Taegér, and Paxyn entered.
“I’ve seen the foretold one. Taegér will fill you in on her description. If you get a chance, bring her here. I’ll be back in a day.”
His powers needed to recharge.
***
The woody scent of trees and moist earth drifted toward Eve, along with a heat that just wouldn’t quit. She rubbed nervous hands down the sides of her black yoga pants. Her short-sleeve black tee kept her cool, but she wondered if she was dressed right for this. Wearing black was so clichéd, but right now, standing in the fringes of the park opposite the museum, she blended into the shadows and that was good.
Reynner stood beside her, his body motionless. His expression bore the same stillness. She wondered if anything ever ruffled his cool composure because her heart thumped violently in her chest. Surely he could hear its terrified rhythm?
He glanced at her then slid his hand around the back of her neck, his warm, callused touch steadying her.
Oh, yeah, the man was no fool. He knew how uneasy she was about this. He didn’t say anything, but his thumb stroked the rapid beat of her pulse before sliding to her chin and tilting her face to his. “Trust me.”
She inhaled a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with so I can breathe again.”
Amusement tugging his mouth, he slid his arm around her waist then bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. Eve gasped. The air swished out of her lungs, and the world around her swirled and disappeared into a vortex.
Oh, crap, they were dematerializing. She clung to him despite her body having the consistency of air. His arms tightened around her. Before she could get her racing mind to understand that he’d actually kissed her, they took form again in a dimly lit corridor.
“Don’t ever do that again!” She shoved away from him and stumbled, the floor rushing to meet her. He steadied her and raised an eyebrow. “Did you think we’d knock on the front door?”
She scowled. “Very funny.”
Her lips still tingled from his too brief kiss, aware he’d only done that to distract her. Taking a deep breath, she glanced around. They were in a part of the museum never seen by visitors. Reynner must have done a thorough investigation if he knew this maze of passages so well.
“This way.” He led her down the eerily quiet corridor to a door at the end. A second later, a soft click sounded and it opened.
“Know your way around, do you?” she snipped.
“Made it a point to know. Always. On the off chance I found you.”
Eve scrunched her face at his words. But she’d never tell him how glad she was that he could cover their tracks. She dreaded what could happen if they got caught. Ugh! What a lame-head. They wouldn’t get caught, he’d probably just dematerialize them out of the place.
Reynner stepped into the darkened room, grabbed her arm, and held her back when she would have walked past him. The musty odor of ancient objects and wood remained suspended in the air. A shiver ran through her. “What is it?”
“We don’t want to set off any alarms.”
Edgy, Eve shifted on her feet and waited at his side while he scanned the place before letting her go. “We’re good.”
“What did you do?”
“I cast a haze around this room. It won’t interfere with the surveillance monitors as long as no one comes looking.
At the appearance of a glowing white light, Eve spun around, her heart in her throat, and saw the small orb leaving Reynner’s palm to hover above them. The ball immersed them in a circle of light. As they headed for the crates, the thing followed.
Of course, he’d be able to do things like this. First the sword he’d summoned in that alley, now this light. She still had to wrap her mind around the fact that he was an angel, one who was hell-bent on getting her in trouble.
She glanced about, taking in the enormous storeroom. Towers of crates of different sizes loomed above them. “Are you going to open everyone?”
Jeez, they’d be here the entire night—if not the week.
He passed several open crates, avoided the bubble wraps and polystyrene bags, and stopped to look around him. “No. It will take too long. Go—just touch the boxes.”
He had to have lost his ever-loving, ancient mind. “My abilities only work on living things.”
“Eve, there are dozens of crates here. I will have to open each one, but you just need to touch the lids. Even if I do find the scroll, I can’t touch the damn thing, it will disappear again and we don’t have the luxury of waiting centuries for it to reappear.”
When he put it like that… She touched the wooden box closest to her. Waited. Nothing. She tried another.
“Why did it disappear in the first place?” she asked him.
“It’s linked to the Stones. Seems it has to co-exist for harmony.”
“What if the scroll tears or burns?”
He cut her a terse look. “It’s mystical. It will disappear when it senses treachery or danger.”
Okay, then.
“You need to concentrate,” he said, hovering like a menacing shadow next to her, his attention on her hands while she stroked a lid. The brightness from the orb made all the flaws of her puckered skin visible. The urge to hide them grew. Instead, she headed for another crate and laid her palm on the covering.
Reynner followed.
She spun to him, her fingers curling into fists, and snapped, “I can’t do this with you hovering over me.”
He narrowed his eyes at her tight expression. “Very well. I will wait here.”
A half-hour later, she let out a rough breath. This entire venture had failure stamped on it. She felt nothing but rough wood, literally. Reynner would see soon enough that they were wasting time. Heck, he could have just opened the boxes with his mind, but no—
He startled all holy hell out of her, hauling her into a dark corner, her front plastered to his.
“What is it—” His palm shot over her mouth. The orb vanished. The room plunged into darkness. He held her tightly against him. Eve was too terrified to enjoy the contact. She could see nothing, then she heard the voices. Footsteps came closer.
Her grip tightened on his shirt, her heart thumping wildly while his continued its steady beat.
Flashlight zipped around the room and right across where they stood. Eve froze.
“All’s good here. Was so sure I heard a noise,” one of the security guards said.
“Nuh. Probably a rat or something.” Their steps receded, and the door closed behind them.
Christ! Eve collapsed against Reynner.
His arms tightened around her. “You okay?” he murmured against her ear.
Eve pulled in a deep, shuddering breath, nodded, and pushed away from him for the sake of her sanity. A little unsteady from the shock of near discovery but more from being crushed against Reynner’s body.
He summoned the orb once more. She started on the boxes again.
Eve worked her way through several more crates. Except for adding to her collection of splinters, she sensed nothing. And she really, really wanted to get out of here.
“Anything?”
His voice, so close, startled her. How he walked in those heavy boots without a sound, she had no idea.
“Nothing. Not even a hum,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Dammit, Eve, it’s here.” His tone held a harsh bite. “You’ve made up y
our mind it doesn’t exist, so it doesn’t. Do you think I don’t exist, too?”
“Oh, I know you exist, or else I wouldn’t be in here, committing a felony and nearly getting caught.”
“Don’t. My world being in peril is not something to take lightly.”
At his rebuke, she fell silent and bit her lip.
She was ashamed because a part of her didn’t want to believe in this scroll. Finding the Stone would make everything right in his world. Aerén had said it was the only way Empyrean couples could soul-join and have children again. And Reynner would find someone, too.
Her stomach hollowed at the thought. Not wanting to think about that, Eve forced herself to concentrate on her task. Slowly, she worked her way through the boxes, stroking them, once, twice—
“Dammit!” She snatched her hand back.
Reynner appeared at her side. “What is it?”
“Splinter—shh.” Ignoring his raised brow, she rested her palm on the lid again. A tingle darted through her hand, like a low-voltage electrical current. A sliver embedded in her finger wouldn’t do that. She ignored the sharp sting and ran her hand over the wooden surface of the small chest. The hum whizzed through her once more. “Something’s in here, if the buzzing in my hand is what you meant.”
Reynner stared at her, almost in disbelief. Then he moved and she hurriedly stepped aside, she didn't want to be railroaded by a huge Empyrean. He made quick work of unsealing the box. And nodded. “Take it.”
Eve picked up the old lead cylinder nestled inside the bubble wrap. She uncapped the tube and carefully eased out a yellowed, aged, parchment before dropping the tube back in the crate. The paper crackled between her fingers, and the humming whirred through her. Like flames, it spread through her blood and pooled between her thighs.
Whoa—what the heck?
Eve grabbed onto the nearest crate to steady herself, squirmed, and shifted on her feet. Unexplained arousal took her hard. No slow build-up. She sucked in air, tried to steady the rampant pounding of her heart. Clenching her aroused feminine parts just made it worse.
Nothing worked. Her gaze fell on Reynner as he substituted the replacement scroll and resealed the box. The man was dressed in leathers again and so damn hot. She wanted him. Heck, she had from the moment she’d first crashed into him. The scroll slipped from her limp fingers and fluttered to the floor.
Reynner turned and frowned. “Eve?”
She didn’t respond. She simply walked over, grabbed him by his shirt, and yanked him down, kissing him right there in the musty smelling room.
He went motionless.
A heartbeat.
Two.
Then he hauled her into his arms and took over, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. The taste of him was a punch to her gut. White-hot desire tore through her. She rubbed her sensitized body against his, her fingers tangling in his hair.
He picked her up, spun around and pressed her up against a stack of crates covered with sack, his groin grinding into her core as his mouth devoured hers. Her legs tightened around his hips.
Desire burned higher. She wanted his hands on her bare skin.
“More, I need more,” she whimpered against his mouth.
Lost in her need, she pulled his t-shirt free to slide her hands under the cotton fabric to caress his warm, muscled back. “I need you.”
“Eve—”
“Stop talking—” She wrapped his hair around her fists, keeping him there. She kissed him harder.
His hands dropped to her hips, holding her still. Lips lingered. Hands stroked her back, once, twice, and then he broke the kiss and held her in a tight embrace.
“Gods, Eve—” A half groan tore free from him, his erection a hard, tempting length against her throbbing center. “Eve, stop.” He lowered her down to her feet. Easing away, he searched her face.
“Why?” she growled. “I know you want me.”
He rubbed his jaw; a streak of red slashed his cheekbones. “I can't take advantage of your vulnerable state.”
“Vulnerable—vulnerable?” she snapped, unable to think past the need roiling through her like wildfire.
“It’s…the scroll. I would take it from you if I could, but I can’t. Just hang onto it for a little bit longer. We’ll put it in a safe place. And you’ll be fine.”
Panting, she glared at him. “You should have warned me,” she hissed through teeth clenched so hard her jaw hurt.
“I’m sorry, Eve.”
Yeah, he was sorry. Try being a twenty-five-year-old virgin, who was so horny she was seconds from ripping his clothes off. She shoved back strands from her heated face and stomped away in frustration.
After several deep breaths, which did little to ease her, Eve went back to where she’d dropped the scroll. Keeping her gaze off him was the devil’s work. But she did. She picked up the parchment and pushed it back into another lead tube he held out.
“Eve—”
“Let’s just get out of here.” She didn’t look at him, just headed for the door with that stupid ball of light following them.
***
Eve found Lucan wearing a path outside her apartment. And was tempted not to invite him inside. Did he think she’d renege on her promise that he had to make a personal appearance?
She was well aware that he didn’t like her. But right then, she cared little for his reasons because that priest—mage, whatever the hell he was, looked damn tempting, too. Being in Reynner’s arms again as he dematerialized them back, did little to cool her ardor.
Lucan examined the scroll she’d removed from the tube and left on the dining table without touching it. They weren’t taking any chances with the parchment disappearing again. He turned to speak to Reynner.
Whatever he said didn’t register; she had no interest in their conversation.
Good thing Lucan was easy on the eyes. Far better to gaze at him than to long for what was so far out of her reach. Hell, it would probably be easier to get Lucan into bed than Reynner. She certainly didn't want Lucan, but with needs so rampant, she felt like someone else possessed her body.
She rubbed trembling palms down her yoga pants. God, she needed some damn relief…
***
The musky scent of Eve’s arousal tormented Reynner as she paced near the window. His entire body wired hard in response to her needs, his sex rigid and uncomfortable behind his fly.
He shoved clenched hands into his pockets. She didn't understand. If he touched her the way she—hell, he wanted, he’d taint her with the filth roiling inside him —the darkness—and that he refused to let happen.
“Eve,” Lucan called out. “Let’s get started.”
She paused in her restless walking. Desire stroked a flush across her cheekbones. Reynner doubted she actually saw Lucan, but while she was still trapped in the grips of the scroll’s spell, if anyone touched her right now, she wouldn’t care, all she’d seek was relief—
“No.” Reynner intercepted, putting himself between them. “Keep that away from her.”
“Reyn,” Lucan said impatiently. “This is hardly the time to get—” He stilled, nostrils flaring, irritating the shit out of Reynner. Yeah, the bastard could smell Eve’s arousal, too.
His cool eyes shifted to her for a second, then without a word, Lucan set a lead box on the dining table. And waited.
“Eve, come.” Reynner motioned for her to join him.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and shook her head. “I’m not coming near th-that thing again.”
“Eve.” He hardened his gaze so she’d get moving. “Put the scroll back inside the cylinder. We’ll do the scrying later.” When she didn't, he snapped, “Now.”
Scowling, she shot him another heated look, one laced with anger and edged with desire.
But to be the focus of her passion—gods, if that didn’t make his bloody cock stir in anticipation.
She marched over, snatched the scroll off the table, and dropped it into the tube, capping it.
/>
Her cell rang. She dropped the cylinder like yesterday’s trash in the lead box, grabbed her phone off the table, and answered. “David.” A breathy sigh left her as if all were right in her world. Her tone dipped, became throaty. “No, of course, it’s not too late...”
Not too late? At fucking three in the morning?
Reynner walked over. Just because he couldn’t touch her didn’t mean she could saunter on to the next available male.
“Yes…tomorrow’s still on… why would I cancel? All right, see you then.” She wiped her palm down her black pants again. “Er, David, would you—”
No. Fucking. Way. Before he did something they’d both regret, Reynner snatched the cell from her and disconnected the call. “Speak to the artist when you’re less susceptible to the scroll.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I didn’t ask for your advice. And it’s none of your business if David comes over.”
He stepped closer, lowered his voice. “Oh, yes it is, Eve. If you think him to be my replacement—”
Rage flashed in her green eyes, stopping him dead in his tracks, and breathless in anticipation.
“You bastard,” she hissed and shoved him hard in the chest. He barely felt the hit, but he let the momentum take him back. Her hurt and anger lashed at him, pounding him with regret.
She stormed off. Seconds later, her room door banged shut, the sound resonating down the short passage and into the pit in his chest.
A crack ricocheted through the air.
Reynner glanced at her cell he held; the glass sported a spidery crack. Breathing harshly, anger bleeding through his pores, he tossed the phone onto the counter.
“Put that thing someplace it can’t cause any more problems,” he snapped, nodding at the scroll.
Lucan locked the lead box. The tight set of his mouth slapped Reynner with the truth. Lucan was just as aroused.
He didn’t give a fuck. He wanted him gone.
Lucan, however, made no move to leave.
“What the hell are you waiting for?”
“The morning. So we can try again.”
“You think that shit flies with me? Get out, Luc, and take the damn box with you. I’ll bring her to Exilum in the morning.” Reynner stalked to the front door and yanked it open.
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