Danica stood rigid in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. He could see it in her face. She didn’t believe a word he said.
“You saw Mark today. He tried to kill you! Could you smell him? The sulfur?”
Zach watched realization dawn on her face.
“He’s an Immortal. One of the bad guys. He died too, four years ago, and he was headed straight to hell, but he was rescued by—by a dark force that promised him immortality if he fought for the dark side.”
Danica unfolded her arms and stood speechless. Finally she said, “Zach, I’m calling 911 and have them 5150 you.”
“I’m not crazy! I died! I was on my way to hell too! But Michael, he saved me, he gave me a second chance, Dani.” He grasped her hands in his. “A chance to make all of my fuckups right.”
When she did not pull away or interrupt he continued, hopeful she was at least listening with an open mind. “The sword, the scabbard, and the star, they are called the Trinity. They hold the key, the key to a prison, a prison for the watchers.”
Danica continued to stand silently. But he knew from the expression on her face she didn’t believe a word he said. He squeezed her hands. “Tell me this, Danica. Tell me you didn’t feel a connection with the scabbard. And the star? It came to you.”
She pulled away from him. “No, it was—”
“You’re the Starkeeper, Danica, just like your mother before you and her mother and her mother, all the way back in time. The one in charge of making sure the Immortals don’t get it. With the Trinity they can literally unleash hell.”
“Oh, well, I did a fucking bang-up job then, didn’t I?”
“Dani, listen to me. They need all three pieces of the key. They only have one, and we’re going to get it back.”
She shook her head and pulled her hands from his death grip, then stepped back until the stairway landing stopped her. “No, you go get it. I’m going home.”
“You gave me your word at the museum you’d give me twenty-four hours.”
He watched her body tense, her hands ball into fists. She strode right into his face. “You have a hell of a lot of nerve talking to me about promises! You promised me the world and then sold me out so you could keep your job! I went to the wall for you! You lied to me. Used me!” She poked a finger in his chest. “For all I know you hooked up with me in the first place because I was IA, figuring your girlfriend would save your sorry ass when the time came.”
Zach stood silent. He felt gut-punched. She’d hit the nail on the head. And he knew she knew it too. But what she didn’t know was he fell in love with her.
“Danica—”
“You son of a bitch!” She pummeled his chest. “I hate you. I wish you’d burned in hell!”
He grabbed her arms, staying her attack. “None of that changes how I feel about you.”
Danica wrenched free. He could have held her, his strength was superior, but he didn’t want to hurt her. He’d done enough of that for two lifetimes.
In a low, controlled voice she said, “You listen to me, and hear my words, Zach Garett. I don’t want anything—nothing—to do with you and your harebrained story. I don’t care if it’s true. I don’t care about anything but putting as much distance between you and me as humanly possible. Now, I’m going to give you five minutes to get your sword and your scabbard and get out of here. If you don’t, I’m calling the cops.”
She turned and hurried up the stairway, slamming the door to her room behind her and locking it.
Danica threw herself on the bed, thoroughly wrought. Her heart couldn’t break again. It was already in too many pieces. Yet somehow it managed to hurt. Zach had used her! Wooed her as a lover in order to have her bail his ass out in his next inevitable skirmish with IA! He’d even gone so far as to propose! God, she was a fool!
She pounded her fists into the pillows. In a fit, she pulled the case off and tore open the pillow; down soared into the air. She desperately wanted something to hurl across the room, or better yet at Zach.
Zach!
She grabbed the phone on the nightstand.
“You will not call the cops.”
Zach stood in the doorway, filling it with his presence. She’d locked the door!
“How did you get in?” It didn’t matter; she turned and started to dial.
Zach grabbed the phone out of her hand and threw it across the room. It shattered into pieces. And in a blur he was on her. She kicked at him. He flipped her over onto her belly, pressing his body flush against her, quelling her attack.
“God help me, Danica, you will help me. We, you and I, are up to our necks in this.”
“Get off of me! I don’t want to do this! I don’t want to be with you!” she shrieked, trying to move him. Her efforts had no effect on him. He seemed stronger somehow, and it terrified her. She was at his mercy.
Thinking on the run, Danica stilled. Let him believe she would comply. She relaxed beneath him. Almost immediately she felt his body loosen. He rubbed his face in her hair. His hands loosened on her arms. But he didn’t move away from her. She held her breath.
“Dani, don’t do this to me.” He inhaled her scent and she felt his body tighten. His fingers dug into her wrists. Fear tore through her. Would he hurt her? He rubbed his face in her hair again, inhaling her scent. “I don’t want to hurt you.” The words more a plea than a statement. But he didn’t say he wouldn’t…
His instability frightened her more than his lucid anger.
Then he surprised her. Again. Carefully, as if she would break with too much pressure, he rolled her over then pressed her back into the mattress.
She opened her mouth to demand he let her go.
All thoughts of that evaporated when he pulled his head up from her shoulder and looked at her. She sucked in a deep breath. His eyes burned, the intensity searing in its harshness. A vein stood out on his forehead and his neck muscles corded in tension. His lips drew taut, exposing his teeth. She had the dizzying feeling she was witnessing something profoundly inhuman take over Zach’s body. He closed his eyes and groaned. His fingers tightened around her wrists. When his eyes flashed open again, the hard bronze color shocked her. Every muscle in her body clenched and she knew she was in big trouble.
Summoning every ounce of calm she possessed, softly Danica said, “Let me go.”
Slowly he shook his head. Damn him. He never made anything easy. She hesitated to take any action. The expression on his face left her speechless for a minute. While passion edged it, fear and regret filled in the lines. What the hell was he contemplating?
“Give it your best shot, Zach.”
Immediately his features softened. His body loosened. “I could never hurt you, Dani.” He moved off her to sit on the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands.
Slowly, Danica moved off the other side of the bed—her muscles tense, waiting for him to pounce. When she made it to the door and he hadn’t moved, she stopped. For several long moments she watched him, knowing he was pulling another fast one on her. Yet she was unable to keep walking. And he remained silent. Still.
A deep heavy silence hung between them. Danica couldn’t move. Too many uncertain thoughts slammed around in her head.
What—what if he was telling the truth? What if this day from hell really was a day from hell? Danica exhaled loudly. Zach didn’t flinch. She rolled her eyes and stepped back into the room. “I swear to God, Zach, I know I’m going to live to regret this—”
He looked up. Hope sprang into his eyes.
“I have conditions.”
He nodded.
“No sex! No relationship. If you promise me that, I’ll help you get the star back. But that’s where it ends. Period.”
Zach stood and towered over her. “I’ll agree if you agree all conditions are subject to change.”
“No. You need to understand. I don’t trust you. You’ve killed me over and over. I can’t take any more. I want your promise you will not touch me. I want y
our promise you’ll walk the other way when this is over and never look back.”
Zach opened his mouth as if to argue, and thought better of it. He nodded and extended his hand.
“No touching.”
“That’s impossible.”
“A lot is impossible now,” an unfamiliar deep voice said from the shadows of the room.
Danica cried out in alarm. Zach stiffened, and pushed her protectively behind him, then turned to the tall dark-haired man who emerged from the corner of the room. It looked as if he’d come from the deck, but the slider was closed and Danica knew it was locked.
He was dressed in dark slacks and a black tailored shirt. A long dull scar ran from just below his left eye to his jaw-line. In the shadows she couldn’t determine the color of his eyes, but she could see the glint in them.
Danica moved to Zach’s side. While he didn’t try to pull her back, his body language was explicit. Come near her and you are a dead man. “Who are you? How did you get in here?” Danica demanded, looking from Zach to the stranger for answers. Although Zach remained in battle stance he didn’t appear threatened.
The stranger spoke. “Who I am is unimportant.” He reached behind his back and withdrew the sword. “You’re getting careless, Zach.”
“How did you get that?” He’d locked it in the safe with the scabbard.
“As I said, you’re careless.”
Zach strode to him and held out his hand, demanding the weapon. The stranger stepped closer, into the light of the room. Sensing doom, Danica moved back toward the doorway.
In a swift movement the stranger plunged the sword deep into Zach’s chest. Danica stood in shocked silence before her scream pulled her back into the reality of what had just happened. She rushed to Zach, who stood eerily erect and quiet. His hands grabbed the hilt. He looked at her, his eyes wide, incredulous. And Danica died a thousand deaths.
This can’t be happening.
She looked back to his hands. Blood seeped between his fingers where they held the sword. A fast-forward of visions and thoughts whirled through Danica’s mind. She reached out a hand to him, shock making her brain sluggish, her movements awkward, her speech stuttered.
Zach dropped to his knees, grasping the sword imbedded in his chest. “Danica.” He closed his eyes. The soft hiss of his breath escaped, and in slow motion he fell onto his back to lie still on the carpet.
She dropped to her knees beside him, not knowing what to do. In a momentary flash she thought to call 911. But she knew it would be too late. The nearest firehouse was thirty minutes away.
She squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself this was just another nightmare. A dream. She was destined to cry over Zach Garett. Her mother had told her he would give her the greatest joy of her life as well as the deepest pain. Agony slashed her heart to shreds. Her eyes blurred with hot tears. For the second time in three days she knew Zach Garett would die. This time, there would be no miracle.
“Pull it out,” the stranger told her.
She jerked her head back to look up at him, his silhouette distorted through her tears. Her fury knew no bounds. “You bastard! You killed him!”
She looked back at Zach. He lay still.
“You can save him,” the stranger said. “Pull it out.”
“He’ll bleed out faster!”
Slowly she wrapped her fingers around the hilt over Zach’s hand. His color had lightened, his skin deathly pale.
“Now, Danica Keller. Only you can save him. His life is in your hands.”
Danica shook her head. She didn’t want that power. Danica wiped the tears from her eyes and looked down at Zach. He opened his eyes. The tawny light had dulled. He asked nothing with them. No question, just a pragmatic resignation. He did not plead for his life. But it was in her hands.
A welling of hot tears bombarded her cheeks. Danica pushed them away with the back of her hand. She touched the hilt of the sword. Slowly she wrapped her fingers around it. Zach’s life was in her hands, and as much as she thought she wanted him dead, she knew at that moment she wanted him very much alive. Despite everything he had done, despite everything he was, call her the fool of the century, but she wanted him to breathe the same air she did.
His hand wrapped around hers and he pushed the sword deeper. She cried out. “Let me go, Dani,” he whispered.
“The hell I will, Zach Garett! You’re going to live, you bastard! And you’re going to take responsibility for everything you’ve done!”
She wrapped her hand around his and with both hands jerked the blade from his chest. A rush of warm blood poured over her fingers. He fell back onto the floor, silent. Immobile. “Take your right hand and press it to his heart,” the stranger directed. Danica started, having forgotten his presence. She didn’t look up.
Gently, so as not to hurt him, Danica pressed her right hand to the bloody wound on Zach’s chest. Then she pressed her left hand on top. No heartbeat. She felt—nothing. Nothing except the hot sting of tears in her eyes. “Zach,” she whispered. “Wake up.”
He remained motionless. Seconds turned into minutes. Her sobs began to rack her body in uncontrollable waves. She punched him and cried out his name. “Wake up!”
“Put your hands back over his heart,” the stranger demanded.
Danica gave him a murderous look. “He’s dead! You killed him!”
“Do as I say. Now!”
Through her tears she turned back to Zach, and pressed her hands to his heart as her own broke. She knew now she would never recover. Her life was not complete if this man beneath her hands was dead. She didn’t want to live, she didn’t want to exist on any level, if Zach Garett was gone to her.
Long minutes passed, her sobs grew louder, harsher, her throat felt raw. Blood pooled around her hands and her knees, the copper scent of it clogged her nostrils. Every day for the rest of her life when she looked at her hands she would see the stains of Zach’s life blood.
Her hands flinched.
Oh, dear God!
Against all hope she felt it. A beat. Barely discernible, but there it was!
She leaned in closer, her ear to his nose. Breath. Barely, but a breath. A warm breath.
Another heartbeat, stronger this time. Then another even stronger, and another. She looked down at him in wonder, then up to the stranger. Zach’s heartbeat thudded vigorously beneath her hands.
Raiden nodded and said, “Now your destiny is sealed. Go to the lake and retrieve the star.” Then he turned and walked out of the room.
Danica had no idea what had just happened or how to explain it, and at this point she was beyond questioning.
“Dani?”
She looked down at the man she loved to hate and hated to love. “I’m here, Zach.”
His eyes fluttered open. “What the hell just happened?”
“I have no idea.”
Chapter Seven
D ANICA HELPED ZACH UP and onto the bed. Her body trembled with emotion and now her tears were joyful. Carefully she sat on the edge of the bed beside him. “My God, Zach! How do you feel?”
“Like I just got slammed in the chest with a hammer.”
No kidding.
“Are you—okay? Can you breathe?”
Zach nodded and lay back onto the pillows. “I just need a few minutes.”
He needed more than that. There was no way in his weakened condition they could leave the house anytime soon. “Zach, you need time to heal.”
Zach’s eyes softened at her concern. He reached out and touched her cheek. “Thank you,” he softly said.
Her brows furrowed. His soft warm smile persisted.
“After everything I’ve done to you, you saved my life.” His smile widened. “You’re either a glutton for punishment or you still love me.”
Emotion so full, so intense, so hard, mushroomed in her chest. Unsure how to handle it she squeezed his hand and said, “I don’t ever want to experience anything remotely close to that again.”
She ca
ught his soft gaze, and refused to allow the building tears to further expose her vulnerability. She looked at the wound on his chest through the torn fabric of his shirt. From what she could see, for such recent damage it only looked red and swollen. She touched it in amazement. Zach flinched. She pressed her lips to it and kissed him. His body quivered and tightened and when she caught his gaze again, she read desire in them.
Her blood quickened. Her need to reconnect with him on a deeper level took hold of her. She kissed the thick column of his neck, trailing her lips up to his chin. Her lips hovered over his mouth, and she whispered, “Zach, you’re covered in blood. Let me clean you up.”
Gently she tugged at his hand and drew him from the bed and into the bathroom. Carefully she directed him to the bench near the vanity and guided him down to it. She reached past him and turned the water on in the large open shower stall. She turned back to him and her heart twisted. His color had lightened and he was soaked in blood. “Here,” she said, and rolled up his shirt. Instead of having him raise his arms she grabbed the fabric at the neck and tore it down his chest.
She caught her breath at the full sight of his wound. She could see, while it was raw, it no longer bled. Tentatively she reached out and pressed her fingertips to it. Zach grabbed her hand and pressed it more firmly against him. Waves of charged electricity flowed between them. The friction heating. Yet soothing, healing. She felt the energy in his body regroup and build. His fingers clasped her hand tighter, his power built, his chest surged, his eyes glowed. His lips cracked a smile, and she knew at that instant, their bond was sealed. Their fate, their destiny, was forever forged. They would live and die as one.
With his free hand Zach grabbed a hank of her hair and pulled her lips down to his. She melted into him, the fusion of their meeting on this plain intensifying the charge. He stood, bringing her closer into him, and moved her backward and into the shower.
Hot water sprayed their flushed skin. Blood ran in rivulets between them to the shower floor, fading to pink before disappearing down the drain. Zach peeled Danica’s clothes off. She rid him of his jeans.
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