by Brandi Evans
“She had a heart defect. The chambers of her heart didn’t form correctly during gestation. My doctor spotted the problem during a routine ultrasound and told me to prepare for the worst. Still, I’d hoped, wished she’d be okay somehow.” Her voice hitched. “But she died. Two weeks after she was born.”
“God, Lyn. I-I don’t…” He didn’t know what the fuck to say.
“I was diagnosed with a severe case of postpartum depression, and…shit, Seth, I didn’t think I was strong enough to make it through the turmoil. For a while, I didn’t even want to. I completely gave up. I no longer wanted to live, so I made a plan. And God, Seth, I almost went through with that plan too.”
“Plan?” He hoped she wasn’t talking about what he knew she was talking about.
But she couldn’t answer. Her tears broke free, hot tear after hot tear falling on his shoulder.
“Come here,” he whispered, turning and opening his arms to pull her against his chest.
For a long time, he held her and let her cry. Sweet, beautiful Lyndi, who’d already lost a child, and now, she’d been fated to die, a death that he was supposed to carry out.
A death that was his fault.
Hasn’t she already been through enough? he asked the Divine, the Angels of Death, or whoever might be listening in.
His own tears burned hot behind his eyes. No way could he sit back and let the tragic events unfold, not when they were happening to the woman he loved. Especially not when the tragic events had somehow been organized by demonic forces.
“I went up to the lighthouse that used to bring me so much joy,” she said when she’d regained enough composure to speak again. “It was kinda this last-ditch effort to feel something, but I felt nothing. I felt dead, so I figured I might as well be dead. And I was going to jump, too, but then, I felt this weight on my shoulder, like someone’s hand was steadying me. I turned, but there was no one there. Still, I swore I felt something, a presence telling me that I was important, that my story wasn’t over yet, that there was something vital I still needed to accomplish. I know that probably sounds crazy.”
No, it sounded as if she were saved by a Guardian, and the Divine didn’t send Guardians to protect just anyone. He’d known because he used to be one. Guardians protected pivotal people, the kind who changed the world for the better and effected humanity on a global scale.
If a Guardian had saved Lyndi—and that was a big if—then she was destined to bring about greatness. That would certainly explain why the Dark One was after her.
“But it was so real,” she continued, “that I ran to my car and went straight to my parents’ house. I told them everything, and they helped get me to the right people. I went to counseling. I took the meds my therapist prescribed, and slowly, I started to feel like myself again. I started to paint again. I poured my emotions out on the canvas; it was the birth of my light and dark obsession. My upcoming show was born out of that pain.”
He stared at her, at this amazing woman he was even more convinced was destined to do something great, which made him even more bound to make sure she accomplished that greatness.
“I’m sorry,” she said, brushing tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to lay all that on you like that. You must think I’m—”
“One of the strongest women I’ve ever met.” He kissed her nose, meaning every word. “You survived and rebuilt your life after a tragedy. That takes strength, and when I look at you, that’s all I see. Strength and bravery. Well, that and a kickin’ body.”
She laughed, and the sight of those beautiful eyes filling with life again behind her tears—yeah, he knew he’d said the right thing.
“Oh, Seth, I almost forgot. I made something for you last night. Come here.”
She stood from the bed in all her naked beauty and tugged him with her; he followed willingly. They stopped in front of an upturned easel. What he assumed was a sketchpad of some sort littered the floor.
She righted the easel before plucking the pad from where it lay and flipped through its pages as she said, “I made this last night after I got home. My nerves wouldn’t let me sleep so I started drawing, and this came out.”
She placed the image on the easel so he could see it, and Seth stopped breathing.
The picture portrayed a creature of darkness skulking in the shadows near a beautiful woman, as an angelic being, bright and glowing, hovered above. No, not an angelic being.
Him.
With wings.
He touched the image, a representation for her, but for him, this was the reality he’d been seeking for so long. A reality that would never come to fruition if he didn’t fulfill his obligations to the Angels of Death and let Lyndi die.
Seven
“I call it The Guardian.”
Lyndi examined man versus drawing. She’d definitely nailed his likeness. The square jaw, the broad shoulders, the lines of that magnificent chest. It was stupid, but Seth just looked right with wings. They suited him.
Physically, he made the perfect angel—at least the way she pictured angels. None of those chubby-cheeked little cherubs for her. No, sir. Solid men with miles and miles of rippling muscles—and in Seth’s case, an impressive package to complement that physique. Now, that was what she thought of when she pictured angels.
“I’m going to put it to canvas as soon as I’m sure the image is what I truly want it to be, and if it’s ready in time, I plan to make it a last-minute addition to my Light and Dark showing. I’ll be pushing it, but I think I can do it.” She linked their arms. “This is how I think of you when I look back on how we met. About how you seemed to come out of nowhere, like you’d been there the whole time, watching me to make sure I stayed safe.”
“I wasn’t there for you,” he whispered, his voice so soft that she wondered if she’d interpreted the sounds correctly.
“I know you weren’t.” She kissed his arm. Did he really think she imagined him there, invisible to the world, watching and waiting? Surely not. “You were walking. I know that. I didn’t mean—”
“That’s not what I was talking about.” He turned away from her and, with ground-eating strides, stalked to the opposite side of the room. Dark emotions hardened his movements, his gait.
Pain?
Guilt?
Sorrow?
Something darker still?
“Seth?” She wanted to go to him, but she also wanted to give him some space, like he’d given her when she’d told him about Daryl, Eva, and her resulting depression. “What happened? What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything, Lyn. Didn’t do a damn thing but fall for a fucking bastard like me.”
A bastard like him?
Okay, that didn’t jive with the Seth Jones she’d made love to. On the contrary, he was the furthest person from “bastard” status she knew.
She took two steps closer. Was his self-hatred referring to some criminal act he’d committed in his guarded past, something that made him think of himself as a bastard? He’d said he was here on vacation, but he kept mentioning work he had to do for his boss.
“Talk to me,” she implored. “Tell me what’s got you so upset. If it’s not me, then what? Whatever you’ve done, I’ll understand. I—”
“You don’t want to know, trust me.” Eyes clenched shut, back against the wall, he slid to the floor, looking absolutely defeated.
She knelt beside him. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”
The expression on his face was one of pure conflict.
“Seth, please…” Her heart hammering out a wild rhythm, she cupped both hands around his cheeks. “Talk to me.”
His hands balled into fists. His knuckles turned white. And when he opened his eyes, the pain and self-loathing painting his irises black almost made her heart stop beating.
“You won’t believe me even if I told you,” he said, voice dark and deep.
“Try me.”
He shook his head, unshed tears sparkling in
those pain-drenched eyes.
“Try me, Seth,” she implored. “Talk to me. Please.”
“I’m—”
With no warning, he hooked his big hand around the back of her neck and crushed her into a kiss that almost sucked the life out of her. His mouth moved hard against hers, as if he were funneling every ounce of passion he possessed into the act, and she held on for all she was worth. She didn’t know what secrets fueled his actions, but she planned to find out.
Seth pulled back, tears glistening on the side of his handsome face. “I swear to you I’m gonna make this right. I won’t let you die, Lyn. I can’t. I won’t.”
Die?
Before the shock of his words had time to set in, he pushed on. “Promise me you’ll stay in here where it’s safe.”
“Seth, what—”
“Promise you won’t leave and that you especially won’t go near that lighthouse.”
“What?”
“Promise me! No matter what, Lyn. Don’t. Leave. Your. Studio.” His voice was firm, his face hard.
She nodded. She didn’t know what else to do. She knew when to stop arguing, and this was it.
“Thank you.” He kissed her once more and then leaped to his feet. He was halfway to the stairs before she’d so much as moved.
“Seth!” she shouted after him, pushing herself onto shaking legs. She needed to stop him and make him explain.
“I won’t let you die, Lyn.”
None of this made sense. Was he some kind of dirty cop who’d gotten mixed up with the mob or something? That hardly seemed likely. He was a cop, yes—or had that been a lie?
Or maybe he was deep undercover and his involvement with her had somehow put her in danger? Both of them in danger? He said he hadn’t been in the park for her, and their first night he’d said something about needing to finish some work, even though he was on this supposed working vacation.
Had he been at that park to investigate the creep, like a stakeout or something, to watch him and hope he led Seth to the “bigger fish”? Then she’d showed up and Seth had been forced to reveal himself, putting his life in danger.
Oh, God, what had she done?
“Seth, wait!” Since his clothes still lay scattered on the floor, she grabbed them and the robe she always kept on a hook by the stairwell and sprinted after him.
His voice echoed from the bottom of the stairwell. “Stay inside.” And the door slammed shut.
“Wait!” She ran faster, fumbling with his clothes and the tie of her robe as her feet pounded each step in quick succession. Shit, shit, shit, these damn stairs had never seemed so long. When she reached the exit, she ripped the door open and—
“Daryl?” she gasped.
What the fuck?
Before she let her mind unravel the sudden appearance of her shit-for-brains ex, she bulldozed her way past Daryl and into the tiny parking area behind the building. Seth was nowhere to be seen. Only her little car and what had to be Daryl’s phallic-attempt-at-male-compensation red convertible sat in the parking lot.
Maybe Seth had walked here? The man did like to walk. In the buff though? No way. Still, she had to check.
She ran to the corner of the building. Nothing. As she was sprinting to the other side, Daryl stepped in front of her. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a dick just not big enough to justify his ego, Daryl Williams was the last person she wanted to see right now. Or ever.
“Hey, lover,” he drawled. “Don’t I at least get a friendly hello?”
Her heart pounded like a crazed gorilla’s, but she didn’t know if her need to find Seth or her desire to castrate Daryl was the real culprit. “The man who just ran out the door,” she began, “which way did he go?”
“It’s nice to see you too, Lynds.”
“The man, Daryl! Which way did he go!” She wished she could strangle the bastard right here, but if she killed him, then she’d go to prison. And then, she’d never be able to find Seth.
What if she just maimed Daryl? No, still prison.
“There was no man,” Daryl said.
“What? He must have come outside at the same time you walked to the door. I opened the damn thing before you even knocked!”
“I didn’t see a man. There was a door, and then, there was you coming through it. Nothing more. Nothing less. Now, what do you say we try this again?” He held his arms out toward her. “Hello, Lyndi. It’s nice to see you again.”
Of course, he wouldn’t help her. How stupid of her to even consider the notion. Trying to converse with Daryl was like talking to a brick wall, only the brick wall was smarter and less annoying.
She slapped away his outstretched arms. “Did you get a fucking brainectomy since I saw you last? What on Earth would ever make you think I’d ever fucking touch you again? You’re a piece of dog shit that, despite evolutionary hurdles, somehow managed to learn to walk and talk.”
“So, a hello kiss is out of the question too, huh?”
Red flashed behind her eyes. Murder equals life in prison, she repeated over and over in her head.
She squeezed her fingers tightly around the clothes she still held and pretended the cloth was Daryl’s fucking neck. How dare he show up after all this time and act like he hadn’t done far worse than break her heart? And today of all days!
“Kiss?” She let her anger turn her words into verbal bullets. “You want a kiss? Okay. How about you kiss my mother-fucking ass!”
“Tsk, tsk. I hope you don’t kiss our baby with that mouth.”
She sucked in a ragged breath. He didn’t just fucking go there without even knowing…
“Fuck you, Daryl! Just fuck. You.”
“If that was an invitation, then I accept.” He looked her up and down, lust in his eyes.
She suddenly felt underdressed with only a thin layer of satin between them. She clutched Seth’s clothes over her chest. Maybe if she asked the asshole flat-out what he wanted, he’d fucking leave her alone. And never come the fuck back.
She took a deep breath to steady her voice. “What do you want, Daryl?”
“I missed you, lover. Is that wrong?”
Lyndi resisted the temptation to punch him. “You didn’t answer my question. What. Do. You. Want? And don’t call me lover again unless you want your testicles ripped out through your nose.”
He laughed. “Okay. What I want is you. I thought I’d made that obvious when I said I missed you.”
“Unbelievable! You lost the right to want me when you walked out on me and our baby. And now, I’m with someone else. So go jump off a lighthouse or something. There’s a nice one in Redemption Harbor Bay. Really tall. Your brains would make a lovely contrast against the sea-washed rocks below.”
He smiled at her, cocked his head to the side, looking totally unfazed. “Okay, so I can see we have a little ways to go before we’re jumping into the sack again. Can I, at least, see our baby? I don’t even know if it’s a he or a she.”
Pain chiseled at the wall she’d constructed to hold all the misery and blackness that had invaded her after Eva’s death. Reliving the memories had been hard enough when Seth’s protective arms were wrapped around her. She sure as hell didn’t want to go through that anguish again, not with Daryl for comfort. Daryl, who thought “comfort” came in the form of a blowjob or a good shagging. Still, he had a right to know, though, even if he’d walked out.
She stood straight, shoulders back. “I’m sorry to inform you that our daughter died,” she said with as little emotion as possible. “Two weeks after she was born. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to—”
“Died. Really? Shit.”
Breathe, Lynds. Don’t let him see you cry.
“Yes. She had a heart defect.”
He nodded. “Guess you didn’t want the kid as much as you claimed. What did you do, Lynds? Will the child to death with your anger for me? Or maybe you considered aborting it after I left. The kid knew how much its own mother didn’t want it, and it broke its heart so that it neve
r formed right. Ya know, that’s pretty cold.”
“How dare you! I wanted Eva more than you’ll ever know. I was devastated when I lost her. I loved her. Don’t you dare imply I didn’t.”
Her fierce outburst didn’t stop his hurtful vomit. “Or maybe you went on a fuck-a-thon to ease your loneliness. Too many dicks for your womb to handle…lover?”
“You bastard.”
Remorse and self-accusation closed in on her like the approaching night, steady and unstoppable, pulling her back toward the bottomless void she’d fallen into after Eva’s death.
A darkness that had nearly claimed her life once.
Fists pumping, Seth weaved through the tombstones at one of Redemption Harbor’s many cemeteries and waited for Kaia. Waiting didn’t usually bother Seth, but when Lyndi’s life hung in the balance, all bets were off.
Kaia—more likely her boss—wanted something only Seth could deliver, and they’d used Lyndi to make sure he complied. More like bent him to their will. No fucking way it was coincidence that the day after he’d had his first and only intimate relationship with a human, the same human had appeared on his death list. It was doubly non-coincidental if Lynds had, indeed, been saved by a Guardian at the lighthouse, especially since jumping from that same lighthouse was supposedly how he was supposed to make sure she died today.
Something was definitely fishy.
With a poof of cool air, Kaia materialized in front of him. Behind her, the wings of a sculpted angel headstone stretched out as if they extended from Kaia herself—ironic considering Kaia was anything but angelic these days.
Seth tried to picture his former lover as the young angel he’d fallen in love with all those millennia ago, a sweet Virtue with the stars in her eyes, but he couldn’t. He’d seen her as nothing more than an evil, callous bitch for far too long.
“Sorry I’m late. I was inspiring some sweet young thing with the most decadent dark thoughts I could envision. Mmm, it was sexy.” Kaia smoothed her palms down her man-eater hips. “I hope I didn’t keep you long, lover.”
Seth’s jaw clenched, and he took a deep breath. “Stop it, Kaia, and let’s just get down to it. We both know why I called you here.”