Too exhausted to fight, she sank into his embrace, into the protective circle of his arms as he tucked her against him and pressed his face to her throat.
The storm was over. Who had won?
Chapter 16
When Reina felt the soft brush of Jarvis’s lips over her hair, she had her answer. She knew that hate had been defeated, at least for the moment.
“You give me peace, Reina Fleming,” Jarvis whispered softly. “Peace I never thought I could have.”
And with that one comment, her tension released, and tears filled her eyes. They’d done it.
“Reina?” Sudden worry lined his face. His whiskers were prickly, making him look rugged and untamed, but his long eyelashes framed eyes that held enough blue to keep the black at bay. He traced his thumb over her cheek so tenderly it made more tears form. “How do you feel? Are you okay?”
Reina cupped his wrist, holding his hand to her face, loving the tenderness of his touch. “Oh, no, I’m fine.”
“You’re fine.” He repeated the words with a breath of awe, of disbelief, of wonder. He traced his finger over her cheekbone, as if she were some fragile treasure he was afraid of breaking. “I really don’t affect you, do I?”
She laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t say that…”
He smiled and kissed her again, but this time it was tender, soft, none of the brutality and desperation of before. A flirt. “I’ve never been able to do this before.”
“Do what?” She was afraid to move, afraid that the moment of intimacy would disappear. It had been so long since she’d felt treasured, but being in his arms, feeling his kiss… it was a moment she would always hold dear in her memories.
“Indulge.” He feathered kisses over her eyebrows. “Touch.”
She closed her eyes as he trailed his fingers down her spine, lightly drifting over her buttocks. “That feels good.”
He laughed softly. “Yeah, you could say that.” He nuzzled her neck, her throat, her breasts, his kisses so gentle and seductive, like a hot wind blowing over her ultra sensitive skin. “You brought me back, Reina. I have no idea how you did it.” He paused. “You don’t have any idea of your strength, do you?”
His words reverberated deep inside her. They touched upon the person she’d wanted to be, but had never succeeded at being. But she sensed his belief in her, his certainty that she was some indomitable force that could knock down any obstacle. Which was just sort of absurd, you know, given how everything had come out at Symphony Hall. Oh… right… She’d forgotten about all that…
Jarvis tangled a lock of hair around his finger. “What’s that look for, rock star?”
“My sickle broke.” She rubbed her hand over his chest, enjoying the feel of his toned muscles. Touching him felt so good. Like he was hers, to do with whatever she wanted.
Jarvis rubbed his jaw, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to remember. The lines around his mouth were deep, but his expression was calm and focused. Determined. The warrior was back in residence, which was good for everyone involved. “Did I break it?”
“Sort if. You were trying to be the hero, which was very sweet. You were trying to kill Augustus for me.” She sighed. “So, yeah, we’ve still got the same problems as before, only worse. I don’t have a sickle, and your brother is turning out to be a bit of a selfish jerk who won’t help you—”
“Cam!” He swore under his breath, set her to the side, and jumped to his feet. His body was lean and lithe as he strode across the cell and grabbed his jeans. But the raw marks on his wrists from the chains were a brutal reminder of what he’d just been through, and where he was headed. “We’ve got a problem.”
His tone was all business and distant, and she stiffened at his sudden departure. Yes, yes, she understood they were in the middle of war, but at the same time, it hurt to have him so easily dismiss her. Hadn’t he felt that tenderness and that connection? Apparently not. Apparently, it really had been just sex for him, which sucked, because the way her heart was aching at his withdrawal made her fear that it had been a lot more than sex for her. “Which problem are you referring to?” She grabbed her own pants, trying not to feel completely naked and exposed, which was kind of hard when she was naked and exposed.
Come on, Reina, pull yourself together. She needed to grab her bra, get some clothes, focus on the mission. He empowered her, he believed in her, but that didn’t mean she had to start really caring about him, right? Of course right.
Except she knew she had. Way too much.
***
Jarvis still couldn’t believe it as he replayed the conversation with his brother in his head. His memories from the time when he’d snapped were returning, a bit foggy, but at least he could recall them. “Cam’s the assassin that I’m helping you find a victim and investors for.”
Reina turned sharply, her lacy thong dangling from her fingers. “I know.”
“And he’s fired up about it.” Jarvis had barely registered the discussion at the time. He should’ve grabbed his brother and bailed right then. But he hadn’t. Shit. He’d been so worried about Augustus killing Reina that he’d deviated from his one purpose in life: to protect the world from hate by containing himself and protecting his brother. He grabbed his boots and shoved them onto his feet, glaring at Reina. “I could have saved him, but you distracted me.”
“Me?” Her hands went to her hips. “For your information, we all sacrificed to get you out of there. Did I stay to try to take Augustus? No. Did Blaine drain himself to protect you long enough so you could escape? Yes. Did Nigel stay behind to try to save your brother? Yes. To help you.” She stalked across the room and poked him in the chest. “So, do not ever use that attitude with me. I do not distract you. I help you, for heaven’s sake!”
He stared at her, warring between admiration for the fact she stood up to him and shock over what she’d just said. “Save Cam’s life? What happened to him?”
“You deflected a pink star into his chest when you were going mad.”
“Jesus.” He didn’t remember that at all. He grabbed his phone to check on his brother, but before he dialed, he saw a text from Nigel. Crisis averted. But your brother got away. Love is powerful shit, man. I like you better. We’re tracking him now. “He’s missing, but okay.” He strode toward the door of the cell. “We have to go after him—”
“We won’t find him.” Reina tugged her jeans over those legs that had been wrapped around him only moments before.
He stopped, unable to stop himself from staring. Shit, he didn’t want to walk away. He wanted to grab her, bury himself in her, and never lose that feeling of peace again.
Reina paused, her jeans halfway up her thighs. “Don’t look at me like that.”
He walked over to her and ran his hands down her bare arms, and lightly kissed her. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “You gave me a gift I’ll cherish for the rest of my life.”
Her eyes glistened. “Don’t be nice,” she said. “I can’t deal with it right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re going to die!” she burst out.
She was right. He didn’t have the right to ask her to care, not after all she’d been through. Even if she made him want to get down on his knees and beg for her heart, ask for the chance to have someone see something in him other than hate. For someone to care when he was gone.
But he couldn’t do that to her. It would have to be enough to know that she could care, if he forced it. If she let herself do it.
“We have to focus,” she said, her voice strained.
“I know.” Regretfully, with a sense of loss beyond anything he’d ever thought he could feel, he grabbed the waistband of her jeans and tugged them up over her hips. “We’ll go find Cam and—”
“Now that Death knows you’re after him, he’ll hide Cam.” She moved out of his reach and fastened her jeans.
He flexed his fingers against the urge to haul her back over to him. “You know all his hiding places—�
�
“No one knows his hiding places.” She pulled her shirt over her head and tugged it down, shutting him out from the last intimate view of her body. “We’ll have to get Cameron at the festival. We’ll work on my stuff in the meantime.”
Jarvis picked up his scabbard and slung it over his back, forcing himself to focus on their situation. “No. I’m not letting it get that close—”
“Death won’t let Cameron kill until the festival, because it will decrease his value if it’s not a virgin reaping.” She slipped her feet into her shoes. “Waiting until then gives us time to put everything in place to save my sister, so we both win. My issues matter too, you know.”
She did have a point, but his brother wasn’t the only problem. Jarvis held out his hands. They were a dark brackish purple. “I can’t afford to wait.”
She pressed her lips to his palm, and the tension eased from his body, like always. “I’ll help you ward it off.”
“It can’t be stopped.”
She pushed his hand away with a noise of frustration. “I am well aware of my horrific track record when it comes to staving off death, thank you so much. But I don’t have the emotional energy left to fight for your life, so I give up trying to keep you alive. I can’t deal with it.”
Something collapsed inside him. “You’re giving up on saving my life?” She’d never given up on her sisters, and he wanted that same kind of belief in him. That he could somehow beat his rap, which, of course, he couldn’t, but shit. Did she have to abandon all hope as well?
But she nodded resolutely. “I’m going to let you die—” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I’m just going to help you hold it off long enough for us both to get what we want.” She gave him a challenging look that didn’t hide the anguish in her eyes. “You believe in love, right?”
“Hell, yeah, I believe in love.” He’d spent the first six years of his life watching Cam bring light, laughter, and love to everything around him. He would kill a flower. Cam would bring it to life. Oh, yeah, he knew the power of love. “Just not for me.”
Reina clasped his hand and set it over her heart. “I’m saving my sister because I love her. If you honor love the way you say you do, you will fight for love in every form, not just your brother.”
Oh, well, now, that was just unfair. Strategically brilliant as well.
His job, as the Guardian of Hate, was also to protect his brother and the love he safeguarded. And Reina was love. He knew that was why she could withstand his hell. Which meant it was his duty to safeguard her and her issues as well, as she’d just so cleverly pointed out.
Shit. Everything she said made sense. It was asinine to spend the next forty-eight hours chasing shadows in hopes of finding his brother, when they knew exactly where he was going to be at midnight on Friday night.
He could keep Blaine and Nigel on the hunt while he set the trap for the festival and entrusted his sanity to Reina. It was the smart plan, and he knew the only reason he could think clearly enough to realize it was because she was touching him so tenderly.
When he saw the relief in her eyes, he knew she’d figured out his answer before he’d even said it. “Hey.” He caught her under the chin, needing her to understand exactly who he was. Not able to live with himself if he disappointed this woman. For hell’s sake, he was already going to die on her, and he didn’t have to be a genius to know how badly that would wreck her, no matter how much distance she claimed to have between them. But he needed her to understand the truth about him, to know exactly what his loyalties had to be. “If it comes down to a choice at the end, your sister loses. You lose. Do you understand? I have to make that call.”
Her smile faded. “And if comes down to it, I’ll sacrifice your brother.”
“And poison love?”
“No.” She released his hand and stepped away from him, taking her space back. “I don’t believe love is dependent on the survival of one suicidal Cupid.” She tapped her heart. “I’ve got enough in here.”
He almost believed she was right. If she didn’t, she would never be able to survive him without being affected by his negative energy. “What about the people who aren’t like you? Who do need my brother? The ones who will have no resistance or protection when I explode? Are you willing to risk them?”
“Yes.” She met his gaze. “Love comes from within for everyone.”
“I’m not willing to take that risk.”
Something flickered in her gaze, something he couldn’t read. “It is time, Guardian, for you to believe in something other than hate.” Then she pushed open the door and walked out.
He stared after her, feeling like he had just missed something important. Something that had been eluding him his whole life.
Something he didn’t have time to worry about.
He grabbed his T-shirt and sprinted after her, swearing he would do everything in his power not to betray the woman who had risked everything to bring him back from the edge, but knowing in his gut that he would do it if he had to.
And with that realization, the self-hate began to fester inside him again. As he ducked under the doorframe, he knew the end was coming.
Fast.
***
Jarvis palmed Reina’s back as he hustled her up the stonewashed stairs to the Our Lady of Help Catholic Parish, according to the carved words over the archway. The stonework was intricate, huge stained glass windows flanked the massive iron front doors, and a gorgeous white steeple stretched up high into the orange and pink dusk sky.
On the left side of the front door was an ancient sign listing the priests who had been in residence a hundred years ago. On the right was an ivory box with a thin slit, from which protruded a delicate lacy material.
Reina eyed the frock. “That seems a little decadent for a Catholic church.”
“Former church.” Jarvis plucked the lace out, and Reina realized the box was actually a dispenser for lace scarves. “The building is now a bar called the Grotto of Sweet Loving. Come here.” He expertly wrapped the scarf around her neck, his touch deft and skilled, as only a graduate of the Den could boast.
“What are you doing?”
He tied a lace scarf around his own neck. “It’s a way to show we honor them.”
“Honor who?” The moment Jarvis had taken ownership in making this festival happen on his terms, he’d hauled ass down the highway to this spot. He’d been on the phone the whole time, relaying to his team her suggestions of possible places Death could have stashed Cameron. His frenzied pace hadn’t left time for explanation other than that it was time to find the investors.
“The Tribe. This is their favorite bar.”
She froze. “The Tribe of Peace and Goodwill? The vampires who have sworn to become harbingers of peace, love, and harmony by declining to kill, maim, or mindroll anyone? The ones who are so deviated from their true calling as vampires that they often snap with minimal provocation and kill anyone who happens to get too close to them?”
“Overrated. Only the lower vampires subscribe to that philosophy. The leaders think it’s a crock and they’re working hard to instill the appropriate bloodlust back in them.” Jarvis shoved open the door. “The floor is yours.”
She didn’t move. “I don’t really have time to be drained right now.”
Jarvis laughed softly, took her hand, and pulled her inside. “Neither do I, babe, so let’s get this right. These guys have money, and they have someone who drives them nuts. I think we can make this work.”
“Or we can die. Always good to have several options.” Reina stopped as over a hundred ashen faces turned toward her. The Bible reading groups went silent, the flute players stopped fluting, the poetry reading in the corner went on hold, and yoga-meisters on the right all dropped out of downdog to stare at her.
The only sound was the rhythmic chanting from a group who were sitting on bamboo mats, eyes closed, palms resting skyward on crossed legs.
Not a single vampire was in black. E
very color of the rainbow, but no black or gray or white. Pinks, yellows, blues, aqua, green… a veritable cacophony of brightness.
And then, in that silence, all the vampires began salivating, a hundred pairs of red eyes fixated on the scarf around her throat. “Um, Jarvis? They don’t look entirely at peace with their chosen lifestyle—”
“We just startled them. Kinda like throwing raw meat to a bunch of wolverines without feeding them first. They’ll calm down in a second.” But he pulled out his sword.
Nice to be with a warrior.
“They’re sensitive to my negative energy,” he said quietly. “I need to stay grounded.”
And not so nice to be with one who could trigger a feeding frenzy of hate.
“Lord Hate?” A young vampire wearing jeans, a tie-dyed shirt, and a silver peace necklace peered around the corner of the altar. “Lord Hate!” His face lit up, he leapt down the stairs, and he raced down the center aisle. “You came!”
He took a flying leap at Jarvis, and the warrior barely had time to catch the kid before he was wrapped up in a teenage bear hug. Jarvis looked so confused and unsettled that she almost had to laugh. “How’s Rocco, Sylvan?” Jarvis asked.
His voice was so concerned, Reina smiled. So she wasn’t the only one in the world who could bring out Jarvis’s softer side. Seeing him holding the youth and listening to his answer so carefully was very sweet.
“Oh, man, Rocco’s in bad shape.” Sylvan tugged Jarvis toward the altar. “You gotta come see.”
Jarvis allowed the boy to lead him, even though she knew he didn’t have time for visiting the boy’s friend. Again, a sweetheart. Dammit. She didn’t need to be liking him right now.
“Where’s Damien?” Jarvis asked. “I need to talk to him.”
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