by Jasmine Walt
Refusing to think about that a moment longer, I instead turned my attention to Toby. The poor guy hadn’t told us much of anything—it seemed like his brains were just as scrambled as mine. The demon had taken him over so completely that he’d had no control over what he was doing. As a result, he’d basically retreated into a dark corner of his mind to avoid watching the horrors being committed by his own two hands. He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been forced into slavery. All he knew was that he’d been walking to his car after work one day, and then he was suddenly in some kind of basement or cellar, tied up and placed in a circle with candles. There had been blood and pain, he’d said, glowing eyes and shadows dancing on the walls, and a blond man chanting strange words. That must have been when Lucas put the demon into him.
My stomach twisted in revulsion. God, but how could I have ever been involved with someone so vile? I couldn’t understand how my instincts had been so far off that I’d ended up with a man willing to do such despicable things for power. What else had Lucas done that I didn’t know about? Was he doing these things when we were together? Was I part of them? Was that why I was living by myself out in Portland, with no recollection of my previous life? After conjuring my celestial weapon and exorcising that demon with it, I had no doubt that I was what Brodie claimed. I just wished I knew why.
During the twelve-hour drive, I quizzed Brodie about his own upbringing. He told me that he was raised by a healer named Agnid, who lived just outside the Mystic Moors, home to the Druids. His life seemed to be a study in bitter sweetness—the Druid community had acknowledged him and taught him their ways, but had never truly accepted him due to his mother’s indiscretions and his father’s supposed crimes. But even so, he’d had Agnid, who loved him as if he were her own, and taught him all she knew. And he was blessed with Druid magic, which was an honor granted to very few.
“Do you think my parents are alive?” I asked suddenly, sitting up straight in my chair. It had just occurred to me that, since my memories weren’t accurate, they might not have died after all. “Do you think they know what happened to me?”
“I cannae say,” Brodie said regretfully. “’Tis very possible they’re still alive, but the work of a Sentinel is dangerous, and many do die in the line of duty.”
I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat, blinking back tears. Brodie seemed to notice, because he brushed his hand against my cheek even though he was still looking at the road, his thumb somehow finding the lone tear that had escaped.
“Dinnae lose hope, lass,” he said quietly. “’Tis impossible to know what we’ll find when we finally get to that Watchtower. But no matter what, we’re taking a step forward. And no matter what sort of reception you get there, I will be by your side through it all. Ye can count on that.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, turning my cheek into Brodie’s warm hand. I pressed a kiss into his palm, and the sensation of his rough calluses against my lips sent a thrill of desire through me. Brodie turned his gaze to me for a split second, and the carnal need burning in those gorgeous eyes took my breath away. Wicked promises and sinful delights danced in those emerald depths, tantalizingly out of reach, and I had to stop myself from reaching for him.
For Christ’s sake, woman, he’s driving! I scolded myself.
Brodie removed his hand from my face, and returned his attention to the road. But he took my hand back in his again and kept there for the rest of the insanely long drive to Bakersfield, and that was good enough for me.
13
Arabella
“I’m so tired I could sleep for a week,” I groaned as Brodie and I stumbled into our room for the night. This one was a step up from the motel we’d shared the other night—a Holiday Inn with two double beds covered in fresh, crisp linens. The walls and carpets were clean and devoid of stains, and I’d bet the towels in the bathroom were soft and fluffy.
“I ken what ye mean, lass,” Brodie agreed, flopping onto one of the beds. I grinned at the sight of him lying there spread eagled, with his eyes closed and his boots dangling off the edge of the bed. “I dinnae expect to move from here for the rest of the night.”
We’d gotten into Bakersfield about an hour ago, after nearly twelve hours of driving, then went straight to Toby’s house. Brodie had woken him from the enchanted sleep, then had done some mumbo jumbo I didn’t understand to make him forget about us before pointing the man toward his own doorstep. Much as I wanted to wait and see how Toby had been received, Brodie and I couldn’t stick around. It was the middle of the night, but someone might still spot us, and we didn’t want to be swept up into a police investigation.
“I’m going to grab a shower,” I called over my shoulder as I headed into the bathroom. As I’d predicted, the towels were soft and fluffy, and the white-tiled walls and floor were clean. After deliberating for a moment, I put a stopper in the tub, then turned the hot water on. I was going to have a nice, long soak before bed.
After making sure the door was firmly locked behind me, I pulled my shirt off, then let it fall to the floor. My jeans came shimmying off afterward, and I wondered if I should just hand wash my clothes and let them air dry. I didn’t think Brodie wanted to keep buying me a new outfit every day. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror out of habit, then let out a loud shriek at what I saw.
“Brodie!”
Footsteps thundered outside, and the doorknob rattled. “Lass!” Brodie yelled through the door, panic rife in his voice. “Are ye all right?”
“I…” Trembling, I turned away from the mirror, then undid the door lock. I stepped back as Brodie flung it open, charging in like a Highland warrior ready to do battle. Well, if highlanders had glowing green fists. But he stopped short at the sight of me, and his mouth dropped open.
“Lass,” he whispered, his eyes glued to my chest, and I knew he wasn’t staring at my cleavage. “Yer angel wings!”
“Yeah.” Swallowing hard, I glanced down. The unsightly birthmark that had always marred my skin was gone. In its place was a stunning tattoo, done in silver, of a pair of angel wings stretching across my breastbone. I couldn’t believe that this had been hiding on my body this whole time. Why had it chosen to come out now? “It’s…”
“Beautiful,” Brodie finished, closing the distance between us. I sucked in a breath as his larger-than-life presence filled the empty space between us, and inhaled that masculine, earthy scent that was quickly becoming an addiction for me. My body hummed with desire, and I stood stock-still as he brushed his fingers across the wing on my left breastbone, tracing the feathers with a reverent expression on his face. “This must’ve happened when ye summoned yer celestial weapon.”
I nodded, remembering how my chest had burned right before I’d exorcised that demon. The brand tingled as Brodie explored it with his fingers, and those tingles spread throughout my body, filling me with a delicious warmth. My breath grew shorter as heat pooled between my thighs, and my nipples hardened when his palm brushed against the top of my breast.
Brodie paused, and it was that moment when we both realized I was standing here in nothing but my bra and panties. His nostrils flared, his eyes darkening with desire as they traveled up and down my semi-naked form. I licked my suddenly dry lips, and his gaze fastened on my mouth with a longing that took my breath away.
“Brodie,” I whispered, sliding my hands up his chest and over his broad shoulders. My fingers slid into his shaggy curls as he bent his head, and our mouths met in the hottest kiss I’d ever experienced. It was fierce and tender and full of need, his lips moving urgently against mine, as if determined to memorize every line and dip of my mouth. Desire shot through me, blossoming in my core, and my nipples hardened as they brushed against his chest. A tiny whimper escaped my lips, and then his tongue was in my mouth, brushing tantalizingly against my own, coaxing me into an erotic dance. He tasted like herbs and spice with just a hint of honey, and I pulled him closer, wanting more, wanting everything—
“Shite,
” Brodie gasped against my mouth, pushing me away. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes wild as they stared at me. “I’m sorry, lass. I didna mean to.”
“It’s okay,” I said, bewildered at his reaction. His hands had slipped around my waist at some point, so we were still close enough for me to lean in and kiss him again if I wanted.
“No. No, ’tis not okay, lass.” Brodie scooped a hand through his hair, stepping back. Desire still raged in those green depths, but it was tempered with guilt, which I didn’t understand. Why would he feel guilty about kissing me? “I’m yer protector. I should not be touching ye like that.”
“But why?” I stepped toward him, confusion swirling inside me, throwing me off balance. “What does you being my protector have to do with us…”
“Please, lass.” Brodie threw up his hands as if to ward me off, and I recoiled. Was I really that repulsive? “Just trust me on this.”
“Like I’m supposed to trust you with everything else?” I asked, sarcasm filling my voice. Better to sound bitchy than to sound like I was hurting.
“Have I steered ye wrong yet?” Brodie demanded.
“No.” I stared at him for a long moment. “No, you haven’t. You’ve done a good job of keeping me alive. But don’t pretend like this is some noble decision you’re making—” I snapped, shouldering past him. “I know you think I’m damaged goods.”
“Lass…” Brodie said, and the pain in his voice would have made me turn around if I wasn’t so angry. “Lass, please. ’Tisn’t like that.”
But I didn’t want to hear what it was like. I didn’t want to hear anything at all, so I stormed over to the bed, then buried myself beneath the blankets. And only when my face was tucked snugly into the pillows did I allow myself to cry.
14
Brodie
By the time the sun decided to peek her bonny face over the edge of the horizon, I was even more exhausted than I’d been when I laid down to sleep. After the argument with the lass last night, I hadn’t been able to catch a wink. I was a raging mess—my body and soul both aching to climb into the bed adjacent to mine so I could gather Arabella into my arms and tell her that it was all a big misunderstanding. That I didn’t find her repulsive—in fact, she was the bonniest lass I’d ever met. My arms ached to hold her, my lips tingled with the need to kiss her again, and my fingers curled and uncurled restlessly as I imagined what that soft, silky skin would feel like in my hands.
I’d gotten a little taste of that last night, when my hands had rested on her waist as I’d kissed the breath out of her. I’d finally gotten the chance to touch those curves that had been tempting me since the moment I laid eyes on her, and doing so was the biggest mistake of my life. Because now that I’d had a taste, I wanted more. I wanted to spread those legs and take my fill, until she’d forgotten how to speak. Until the only thing she could say was my name, over and over as she begged me to give her more.
Stop entertaining such thoughts, ye daft prick! I scolded myself. Yer never going to be able to keep yer hands to yerself otherwise!
And the thing was, as much as I wanted to take Arabella into my arms and make sweet, fierce love to her, I couldn’t. Because if I did, it would interfere with my powers, and I wouldn’t be able to protect her.
I lay in bed for another few hours, listening to Arabella’s steady breathing. She’d cried herself to sleep last night, and it damn near killed me to stay away, to give her the space she needed, when I wanted so badly to kiss away those salty tears. But once she’d exhausted the tears, she’d quickly fallen asleep. I was hoping that when she woke, she’d be well rested, and in a better mood to listen to what I had to say. Because I couldn’t let us leave things the way she had last night. I needed to tell her the truth.
Her eyes opened slowly, still heavy with sleep, and my breath stilled at the way those golden-brown orbs caught the sun. The lass’s eyes were so expressive—they sparkled with humor, simmered with passion, burned with anger, softened with compassion, all at a moment’s notice. I hadn’t known her very long, but I could always tell her mood by looking into her eyes.
But the moment she caught sight of me staring at her, that expressive gaze shuttered, and she turned away.
“Mornin’ lass—” I began as she sat up, trying not to notice that she was still in her bra and panties. But she cut me off with a sharp slice of the hand.
“Don’t talk to me,” she said, not even bothering to look my way as she stumbled out of bed. “Not until I’ve had at least three cups of coffee.”
I swallowed my words, watching as she made her way to the bathroom. By the goddess, but somehow she was even sexier than she had been last night. The sound of water spraying the tub filtered beneath the closed door, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to imagine the sight of her slipping out of her underthings and stepping beneath the shower spray. Of her taking the bar of soap and sliding it across her damp skin, between her breasts, down that flat stomach, then even lower, until…
Stop it!
She took a long time in the shower. I wasn’t sure if she did it to torture me, or if long showers were her normal routine. But the wait was driving me crazy, so to pass the time, I began to exercise. Sit ups, squats, burpees, anything I could think of that didn’t require equipment.
I was halfway through my third set of one-handed push-ups when the door opened, and Arabella walked out wearing nothing but a thin cotton bathrobe. Her eyes widened, and I caught the briefest flash of admiration in them as she watched me lower my bare chest to the floor. But that gaze shuttered again, and she turned away from me, heading for the sanctuary of her bed.
I finished off the rest of the set, then stood up and wiped the sweat from my brow. Arabella was staring resolutely at the blinds, as if the plastic slats were potential enemies and she had to watch their every move to make sure they didn’t launch an attack. It was absurd. Why couldn’t she just look at me?
Because you’re a blithering idiot, that’s why. Ye handled her with as much tact as a horny bull last night. How did ye expect her to react?
“Lass,” I said, then winced at the hoarseness in my voice. She turned that veiled gaze to me, and I cleared my throat. “I was thinking we’d go get breakfast and fill up on some of the coffee ye asked for after I shower up.”
“That’s fine,” she said, her voice deceptively casual. “Just be careful of my clothes when you get in the shower. I hung them up to dry.”
I nodded, then retreated into the bathroom. Gaia save me, I groaned inwardly as I caught sight of her underthings hanging on the shower rod. The lass really was trying to torture me. Careful as I could, I removed her bra and panties, then transferred them to the towel rack. The cloth was damp against my fingers, and I instantly started thinking what it would be like if they were damp for other reasons. If, instead of pushing her away last night, I’d gathered her into my arms and carried her to the bed. I had no doubt that she’d already been wet last night—her nipples had been hard, and she’d moaned into my mouth with such need that I’d almost given into her. I’d wager her panties still carried a hint of that arousal, and it took everything in me not to press the black cloth against my nose and inhale greedily.
Cold shower. I need a cold shower.
I washed and dressed as quickly as I could, humming an old Gaelic melody Agnid used to sing to me in an attempt to keep my impure thoughts away. Couldn’t very well fantasize about a woman while singing a childhood lullaby. At least, that was my theory. Arabella dressed as soon as I was done. After checking out of the motel, we headed out to find breakfast. The drive was silent and filled with tension thicker than blood pudding, but I didn’t dare break it. Best to get some coffee and food into the lass before attempting to get through that bonny head of hers.
We ended up at a quaint establishment called Black Bear Diner, with wooden furnishings, bear-themed décor, and pillars that were fashioned to look like tree trunks. The hostess showed us to a booth in the center of the room, then left us with
our menus. Arabella immediately picked hers up and began perusing the offerings, studiously ignoring me. Holding in a sigh, I studied the menu myself, searching out the biggest breakfast platter I could find. A man of my size needed fuel, not fruit salads and smoothies.
The wait for our server to take our order, and then for our food to arrive, seemed interminable. Thankfully the coffee came almost immediately, and Arabella and I served ourselves right away. The lass took hers black, I noted—nearly as black as the looks she’d been giving me when she thought I wasn’t looking.
What if she doesn’t understand yer explanation? a meddlesome voice asked.
I blocked it out because I wasn’t sure I could handle it if she thought I was lying, or decided to hate me anyway. I gritted my teeth against the anxiety churning in my gut. Goddess alive, but I couldn’t remember ever being worked up about anything like this in my life! When did I allow this woman get under my skin so? Aye, she was a bonny lass, but she was hardly the first woman I’d ever been attracted to. And when ye had as many willing women to tumble in the hay with as I did, ye were bound to have to turn away a few. Why on Gaia’s green earth was this one so difficult?
Because you actually care about her, the blasted voice in my head said, a little smugly this time. And because you want to sleep with her, despite your better judgment.
“The devil take it!” I exclaimed, banging my fist on the table. This internal back and forth was enough to drive even the sanest man out of his mind. There was no point in chasing my thoughts around in circles. Regardless of how I felt about Arabella, I’d been tasked by Gaia to protect her. And I would see that task through, no matter if Arabella hated me or not.
“Uh, what was that all about?” asked the woman plaguing my thoughts, staring at me as if I’d lost my ever-loving mind. The tips of my ears burned as I realized several others were staring at me—that outburst had been public rather than inside my mind as I’d thought.