Darkness Undone

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  His brow climbing up, silently, Lucan picked up the lead box and strode from the apartment.

  Chapter 15

  Eve’s eyelids cracked open. The bright sunlight streaming in between parted curtains made her wince. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes tight feeling as if she’d crawled out of a fog…

  Then reality smacked her in the face and last night’s debacle came back in all its ghastly detail.

  Ack, now she’d have to face Reynner.

  So not the way she wanted to start the day. A pity hiding in bed couldn’t be a constitutional right for gut-churning embarrassment.

  Forcing her lethargic limbs to move, she rolled off the bed and stumbled from her room, down the short hallway, and to the bathroom. Eyes half closed, she turned on the faucet, undressed, and stepped into the shower. The rush of cool water beating down on her slapped her back into normalcy.

  No, hiding wasn’t the way she rolled anymore. She’d just have to chalk this up to another of life’s little lessons. Eve took stock of herself. No buzzing or sexual hum or whatever the heck spell the scroll had had her under. All was as it should be with just blood flowing through her veins. She heaved a sigh of relief.

  After a quick shower, she toweled off and pulled on underwear, followed by khaki-green capris and a white cap-sleeves top. She fastened her damp hair in a high ponytail, slipped her feet into flip-flops and headed for the kitchen, the scent of coffee drifting to her.

  She found Reynner alone in the living room, dressed for the day in black jeans and a gray tee, his hair tied back with a black elastic band.

  At her entrance, he turned from the window. She wondered if he ever relaxed. Everything about him was too contained, except for that time in his bedroom when he’d lost control. He may have been furious with her, but that’s how she wanted him. All raw passion focused only on her.

  She met his cool gaze. No, she wouldn’t ever see him lose control like that again.

  Swallowing her regret, she poured a mug of coffee, loaded it with sugar, and took a deep drink.

  Reynner crossed to the small counter that separated the kitchen. “Are you all right?”

  She nearly choked on her coffee. Of course, he’d ask about last night. Her gaze shifted to a bakery box on the counter and clung to it like a lifeline. “I’m fine. You got doughnuts?”

  She lifted the lid off the carton and found an assortment of cakes. Selecting one powdered with sugar, she took a bite. Nope, she couldn’t imagine Lucan trekking through the Village to buy doughnuts. He’d probably freeze everyone with his glacial stare. It had to be Reynner.

  “Where’s the mage,” she asked, licking her lips free of powered sugar.

  “Gone.” At the abrupt response, she looked up. The burn in that indigo stare held her breathless. He looked like he wanted to devour her. And naturally, her treacherous body melted in response.

  But when his expression closed off, wiping out the moment like it had never happened, pain rose from deep within her. Her appetite disappeared. She dropped the doughnut back into the box. If he could pretend there was nothing between them, then she’d just have to try, as well.

  Eve forced her mind back on the job she had to do. “What happens next?”

  “Once the scroll reveals the location of the Stone, we go get it.”

  “That’s it?”

  He nodded. “I asked Lucan to hold off with the scrying since the scroll seemed to be having an adverse effect on you. It would be safer if we went back to Exilum to do the rest.”

  He didn’t have to remind her that their enemies were lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to grab the artifact.

  “We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

  That’s what he thought. Before she took off to another realm, her life on this one needed her attention first. She discarded her coffee and rinsed her mug in the sink. “Not today.”

  “Why not?”

  Setting the cup aside, she shut off the faucet and faced him. “Because I have a life here, too. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. And I can’t have my friends wondering where I am.” At his narrowed-eyed look, she couldn’t resist adding, “You can come over tomorrow, I should be ready.”

  “So you can keep your date with the artist?” The flat words took on a razor edge.

  “That’s none of your business.” It wasn’t jealousy that provoked his reaction, but his determination to not let anything stand in his way of finding the artifact.

  Well, too damn bad. She choked back her anger, swiped her car keys and bag off the counter, and stormed to the front door. And came to a grinding halt when she found him already there. She really hated that he could move so fast.

  It was pointless to say anything, especially when he had that look on his face. One that spelled trouble, all tight lips and hard eyes. Clamping down her frustration, she stalked out of the apartment. When she stopped beside her blue Mini Cooper, he stared at her like she’d lost her mind. Unlike normal people, she couldn’t take public transport because the risks were too great. A crowd meant opening herself to a crapload of emotions. And summer was far too hot to wear gloves all the time.

  Reynner strode over to his Porsche parked on the opposite side of the street. He opened the passenger door and waited. As far as the debate of wills went, she wasn’t winning this one.

  “Where to?” he asked once they were in the car.

  “The gallery.”

  ***

  Eve thankfully stepped out of the ancient elevator when the door finally chimed open on the sixth floor. Being so close to Reynner wasn’t good for her peace of mind. Now with the scroll in hand, it should only be a matter of days before the Stone was located. Then Reynner would be gone.

  She pulled in a deep breath and tried to ease the compression in her chest at the thought as she entered the air-conditioned gallery. The strong odor of linseed oil and paint assailed her nose.

  Eric wasn’t in, but his assistant, James, was. Slender and average height, he slouched at his desk, one hand playing with his spiked brown hair as he spoke on the phone.

  Whereas Reynner was beautiful in a masculine way, James was pretty with his pale skin and sharp features. He looked up.

  “Eve, so good to see you, girl. David swung by earlier—” Then he did a double-take when his gaze landed on Reynner. Hastily, he cut off his call and rose to his feet, interest gleaming in his baby blues. “Eric’s at the warehouse. Let me show you.”

  Eve snorted. As if she didn’t know who had garnered James’s sudden interest in playing tour guide. “Thanks, James. I’m sure I can find my way.”

  “Wait-wait.” he stopped them, his attention still on Reynner. “I saw you at David’s show.”

  Reynner nodded, his expression like stone. Eve was sure it wasn’t because of the subtle, sexy vibes James was sending him, but rather that David had been mentioned. After last night—and Reynner’s reaction this morning—she’d have to be blind not to realize he didn't like David.

  James stopped and stared at them in confusion, then shook his head and went back to his desk.

  “What did you do?” she asked Reynner, because she knew James. He wasn’t one to walk away that easily.

  “I willed him to leave.” Reynner cut her a grim look. “It saves time. Where’s the warehouse?”

  “Fifth floor.”

  Not wanting to be boxed in with him again, she ignored the elevator and headed for the stairwell and took the dimly lit stairs down, Reynner behind her.

  Moment’s later, Eve shoved open the door to the warehouse. The drone of voices and the sounds of wooden lids clattering to the floor, welcomed her, easing the tension building inside her.

  Eric, in tattered jeans and a faded blue tee, supervised several workers unpacking her sculptures. He saw her and closed the distance easily with his quick strides and a smile.

  “Eve, good, you’re here.” He rubbed her arm in greeting then frowned at Reynner who stood beside her, looking all hard-eyed lethal w
ith that edge of anger she still sensed in him.

  “I wanted to check on the sculptures,” she said quickly, pulling Eric’s gaze back to her. “But they seem to have survived the journey. I better reassemble them.”

  “What do you need to do?” Reynner asked her.

  She cut him a quick look as she pulled out the box of clamps from her bag. “It’s a simple procedure putting them together. I’m good.”

  “Eve.”

  He said her name in that low, inflexible tone, which meant he expected an answer. And she really didn't want Eric drawn into whatever this thing between them was. “Okay. Let me show you.”

  “So, Eve, you going to introduce us?” Eric’s dark brow climbed up in a manner that told her there would be questions. She stifled a sigh. That’s what happened when you grew up with someone who knew everything about you—well, almost everything.

  Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she made the introduction. “Eric, this is Reynner—Reynner, my friend, Eric Randall.”

  As was his habit, Reynner nodded. Eric probably took his cue from Reynner and responded in kind.

  Okay, then. She could do without the tension-filled non-bonding going on.

  Eve glanced at the sculpture closest to her, “Trees in a Storm.” The piece was several inches taller than her, the metal branches bent over, blowing in one direction. She set the clamps on the crate. Quickly and efficiently, she reassembled several of the lower branches, showing Reynner how the clamps worked to attach them. The top was tricky, needing a specialized bracket.

  The large, empty crate was still near the sculpture. She kicked off her flip-flops, shook her head when Reynner stepped up to help her, and clambered, unaided and undignified, onto the crate to attach the branch and clamp it into place.

  “It’s really easy,” she murmured and turned to hop off the box.

  Reynner grasped her around the waist. Startled, her hands fluttered to his shoulders. She met his dark, determined stare. Her heart raced around in her chest as he set her on the floor. Despite everything that had happened between them, Eve wished desperately for him to hold her just for a minute—a second. But he dropped his hands and stepped back.

  Eve lowered her gaze and slipped on her flip-flops, disappointment sliding to her stomach like a ball of copper wire.

  “Eve, a word,” Eric said. His expression hard, he nailed Reynner a cold look. Aw, crap, Eric had to have seen that little exchange between them.

  Eric led her between several large crates to the far end of the storeroom. He lowered his voice and got straight to the point. “Who is he? And what are you doing with him?”

  She sighed at the brotherly grilling. When her folks died, Eric’s parents became her guardians. They had been friends since she was a little girl. Several years older than her, Eric had been the one she’d leaned on while she’d grappled with her devastating loss and came to terms with the horror of not being able to touch anyone.

  “He’s a friend, Eric.”

  “Don’t feed me that line. I know you met him at David’s show—I’m not blind, Eve. Are you involved with him?”

  She wished she could say yes. Her gaze flickered over to where Reynner was making rapid progress assembling her sculptures, then glanced away. “Not in the way you think. I’m helping him with something—and, no, I’m not telling you. Christ, Eric, give a girl some privacy.”

  At the concern in his hazel eyes, she relented. “I’m sorry. I like him, Eric,” she whispered. “I really do.”

  “Does he return those feelings?”

  “It’s complicated.” Her friend understood how difficult it was for her to form any real relationships with her disability. Whatever he saw in her face, he pulled her into a tight embrace. Her fingers balled, Eve hugged him back and blinked away the dampness in her eyes.

  He glanced at Reynner, lowered his voice. “He looks…dangerous. Just be careful, okay? You’re my little sister, Eve, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Because then I’d have to hurt him, and he’d probably flatten me—you don’t want that, do you?”

  With a trembling smile, she eased back. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not pushing.”

  He sighed. “Believe me, I want to—but I love you and trust you to know what you're doing.”

  Inhaling a steadying breath, she headed out of their crated forest back to Reynner. Not by a look did he reveal if he’d heard their conversation. But those indigo eyes skimmed over her face.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  His gaze became steel. So he did hear them.

  It was foolish to hope he wouldn’t. Hurriedly, Eve picked up more clamps and began reassembling the rest of the sculptures. Reynner and Eric worked alongside her.

  “That should do it for now,” Eric said a while later. “See you Saturday, Eve. You can check on the final display before showtime.”

  “All right.” Eve picked up her bag from one of the crates. “See you then.”

  “Reynner.” Eric nodded.

  “Eric.”

  A hand on her back, Reynner ushered out, startling her at that possessive move as they headed toward the elevator. Eric followed

  Stepping away from Reynner, Eve pressed the button then swung around. “Oh, Eric, I meant to ask, did that…” Darn, she didn’t want to ask about this in front of Reynner, but could do little else unless she wanted to scurry back into the warehouse to ask her question. “Did that painting sell?”

  “Yes. Same night. I can check my sales record if you’d like?”

  She grimaced. “God, no, I don’t want to know. Thank you.”

  Laughing, Eric rubbed her arm in affection. “I’ll see you soon.” Then to Reynner he said, “I trust you’re coming to Eve’s show?”

  “I’ll be there.” A promise.

  She wasn’t sure if territory was marked, but she wasn’t interfering in this age-old battle for dominance. Besides, she had a feeling she knew who would be the victor. Except, why would he fight when she was the prize?

  “Good. Now, I’ve got to run.” Eric took off for the stairs to the top floor.

  Her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and frowned at the cracked glass. But when she saw the name on the display, she bit her lip.

  “Aren’t you going to answer your call?”

  Eve looked up and clashed with Reynner’s stony gaze. He already knew.

  Last night, inviting David over hadn’t been one of her most brilliant ideas, but the pain of rejection had her doing stupid things.

  Tired of the contradictions when it came to him, tired of hoping and longing, Eve ignored the ringing cell and asked him outright, “Is that what you want?”

  A tic pulsed on his clenched jaw. Silently, he stared at her.

  Well, then, guess she had her answer. Why did she even bother asking?

  As they stepped into the waiting elevator, Eve firmed her chin, ignoring the painful crater opening in her stomach. No matter the attraction that existed between them, point was he refused to do anything about it. The ringing stopped, only to start up again. She answered. “David, hi.”

  “Been trying to get ahold of you—are you okay?” David asked her.

  “I’m fine—I’m sorry about last night.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask awkward questions. He didn’t. But then David’s mind didn’t run along sex like most guys, he probably thought she wanted to talk work.

  “That’s all right. You’re busy now?”

  She rubbed her temple at the headache that had started. “A bit. I’m at the gallery.”

  “Aw, man. I was there earlier. I must have just missed you. Anyway, I’ve been thinking, about dinner. Instead of going out, would you like to… Would you like to come over to my place tonight?”

  Her stomach dipped. Her grip tightened around her cell, and her gaze dropped to the scarred floor. Showed what she knew. David was asking. And especially after her seductive phone call in the early parts of the morning
. It was the damn scroll’s fault she was in this mess!

  “Your place—”

  Reynner moved like lightning, trapping her against the steel wall with his body, palms slapping beside her head. Her cell fell to the ground with a loud clatter.

  “Don’t taunt me, Eve.”

  “Taunt you?” A harsh breath rushed out of her. “Christ, you’re a selfish jerk.”

  Fury tightened his face. “You think I want this? Hurting you this way?”

  “I have no idea what you want.” She shoved him hard, unable to bear having him so close. But he didn’t budge. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to her back, reached out and jabbed the Stop button with a vicious finger. The elevator came to a jarring halt.

  “Let me go!”

  “No.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she cried. When he didn’t answer, tears of despair thickened her voice. “Goddamn you, Reynner.”

  His eyelids squeezed tight for a brief second before they snapped open. Tortured blue eyes met hers. The pain there nearly stopped her heart. “I have been dammed, Eve. So many times over.”

  Then he kissed her.

  Shocked, she remained still for a second. The hand shackling her wrists to her back pulled her close, every warm, tough inch of him pressing against hers. He held her like she mattered. Tears misted her eyes. She’d waited so long for this moment, for him to kiss her because it was what he wanted, too. The kiss at the museum didn’t count. It was just the scroll affecting them. But here, this was all she’d dreamed of.

  Reynner’s lips slid over hers, nipping, tasting, and finally, demanding entry. He wrapped his other hand around her ponytail as he took possession of her mouth. Made it his own. Hot, possessive, he branded her with his lips, his touch and taste.

  Eve moaned. Her head spun as unbelievable sensations tore through her. She tried to free her hands, wanted to hold him, but he wouldn’t let go.

  ***

  Reynner explored the lush mouth beneath his. Her warm, soft body wiggled against him and his sex strained against his fly. The urge to rip off her clothes and slide into her silky warmth grew. The kiss from the museum still haunted him.