Blade of Darkness

by Dianne Duvall

  When is something bad not on the horizon? That’s life.

  Also true. How many times had bad things happened in her life?

  Too many to count. And her damned gift hadn’t prevented any of it.

  Her damned gift that hadn’t bothered Aidan in the least. Usually when she told guys she was psychic, they assumed she was a flake, or mentally off, or—in a few cases—thought her a tool they could use to win the lotto. And they tended to really hate that she saw things about them that they preferred to keep hidden.

  Aidan, on the other hand, had been refreshingly unfazed by it all.

  And he had made her laugh. She loved that about him. He had a very appealing sense of humor.

  “You still look nervous,” she told her reflection.

  She supposed that was better than looking desperate.

  Aidan hadn’t mentioned where they would be dining, so she had had worn her trusty black dress that could pass for either casual or dressy, depending on the shoes and accents she wore with it.

  She’d add those after she saw what he was wearing.

  A bell dinged downstairs.

  Her heart leapt.

  Switching off the light, she left her bedroom, hurried down the hallway, and skipped down the stairs that led to the shop.

  When she spotted Aidan, she damn near tripped over her own feet.

  He stood just inside the door, his hands in the pockets of his slacks as he calmly waited for her to appear.

  She even liked that about him. People seemed to have less and less patience every day, wanting to have whatever they wanted the minute they wanted it and getting pissed at even a minute’s delay.

  Aidan seemed perfectly content to wait, as though he had all the time in the world.

  A faint smile tilted his lips as he studied the comfortable waiting area in front of the bay window.

  Tonight he wore a dress shirt, tie, and jacket—all black—and looked even more handsome than he had last week. No five-o’clock shadow darkened his strong jaw. His wavy hair had been carefully tamed. Mostly.

  She grinned when she saw a few curls already starting to rebel.

  When he glanced over at her, his smile widened. “There you are.”

  “Hi.”

  His gaze went to her own carefully tamed brown locks and swept a slow path to her toes. His eyes twinkled when he saw her shoes: black Converse Chuck Taylor high-top sneakers.

  “Don’t worry,” she said as she approached him. “I’ll change them before we leave. These are just more comfortable for work.”

  When she stopped in front of him, he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “You look lovely.” He kissed her hand again. “And I’ve seen the shoes women torture themselves with today. I’d rather you be comfortable. The Chucks are fine.”

  She stared up at him, her heart trip-hammering in her breast. “Seriously?”

  “Of course.”

  That was a first.

  The image of a pretty, petite redhead flashed through her mind.

  Fighting a frown, Dana withdrew her hand. “You don’t, by any chance, have a redheaded girlfriend who wears Chucks, do you?”

  His eyebrows flew up. “You saw her when we touched?”

  She nodded, disappointment striking.

  “Do you remember the toddler I told you about?” he asked.

  “The one who inspired you to say caboose?”

  He grinned. “That’s the one. Her mother and father are friends of mine. And her mother does indeed have bright red hair and wear shoes identical to yours.”

  “Oh.” She relaxed. “Good.”

  He winked. “Thought I was a geek and a womanizer, did you?”

  She laughed. “I don’t think anyone would mistake you for a geek, Aidan.”

  “A womanizer either if they knew my past,” he said with a wry smile. “Your gift is far stronger than I thought it would be when I made my first appointment.”

  She shifted, wishing she had pockets of her own. The formfitting black dress left her with no place to tuck her hands when she felt awkward. Like now. “Honestly, visions this strong are pretty rare for me. I don’t know why, but I seem to see things more clearly with you. It’s unusually”—what was the word she wanted?—“effortless.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  Smiling, she shook her head. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Well, let’s hope it is. And I appreciate your candor.”

  She shrugged. “Since I’ll likely see more about you than you want me to, I figured honesty was only fair.” She motioned to the open doorway behind her. “Shall we begin your reading?”

  “As you will.”

  She reached past him and turned the lock on the front door, then led him to the earth-toned room.

  “Should I remove my jacket and tie?” he asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  Why did it feel so intimate, watching him doff them?

  Taking the clothes, she hung them on coat hooks tucked behind the door. When she turned around, she found him unbuttoning and removing his dress shirt.

  She stared. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man wear a black T-shirt under a dress shirt before.” Usually they either wore a white T-shirt or nothing at all.

  He offered her a sheepish smile. “I can never seem to keep my white shirts white.”

  She grinned. “You and me both.” Taking the shirt, she hung it beside his jacket and tried to ignore the appealing scent it bore.

  Aidan folded his large body onto her massage chair with a grimace. “I definitely heard it creak this time. If I keep coming here, I’m going to have to lose a few pounds.”

  “Don’t you dare,” she admonished, then bit her lip.

  He arched a brow, lips twitching.

  A blush heated her cheeks as she laughed. “You have an uncanny way of making me say things I should only think.”

  “I beg to differ,” he said with another wink. “They’d be far less entertaining if you didn’t speak them.”

  Dana moved to stand behind him. “Any new injuries or health conditions I should know about?”

  “Not a one.”

  “Good.”

  She began to stroke his broad, muscular back. Her pulse picked up, pleasure winding its way through her in a way it never did with her other clients. “No long, loud moan?” she teased.

  He chuckled. “I thought I should contain myself.”

  Dana smiled as she worked her way down either side of his spine, then up again. She had wondered if she would again have visions of the two of them in bed. But as the minutes passed, lust didn’t fill her. Concern did. “Something’s happened since I last saw you,” she murmured. “Something that’s troubling you deeply.”

  He said nothing.

  “You’re worried about losing someone.”

  He swore faintly. “Your gift is strong. Did you see that or sense it?”

  “Sensed it.”

  He shook his head. “A friend of mine is ill. He’s struggling.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said softly. “It’s something brain related?” Her gift told her as much.

  “Yes. We’re hoping the doctors will be able to save him, but time is growing short. And he’s losing hope.”

  “But you’re helping him,” she murmured. “I don’t know how, but whatever you’re doing is helping him.” She frowned. “Will help him. It’s something you just started doing recently?”

  Straightening, he looked over his shoulder at her. “You saw that?”

  She shrugged. “More like felt it.”

  He stared for a long moment, unspeaking. And she got the impression he wanted to ask her a question but feared the answer she might give. “Will it be enough?” he asked finally. “Will it keep him going until the doctors can find a way to heal him?”

  Moving closer, Dana cupped Aidan’s face in both hands. His jaw was as smooth as it looked. His skin warm. His eyes tormented. Her pu
lse picked up at the contact, but she ignored it and focused her gift, searching for the answer he wanted.

  A minute passed.

  She sighed. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. It’s just not coming to me.”

  He covered one of her hands with his and held it to his cheek. “Thank you for trying.”

  The room around them fell away into darkness. Now Aidan stood before her, looking down at her while she cupped his face in her small hands.

  His head dipped. His lips met hers, claimed hers in a kiss that stole her breath and sparked heat. He wrapped one arm around her waist and drew her up against his hard form, then slid his hand down her back and over her ass to press her hips into his and let her feel his arousal.

  Gasping, Dana dropped her hands and broke contact.

  The earth-toned walls of the room resurfaced. Aidan still sat on the massage chair.

  While she gaped at him, her heart pounding, body tingling from the vision that had come upon her so unexpectedly, he reached up and rubbed closed eyes with the hand that had held hers, almost as though he had a headache.

  “Everything okay?” he murmured, probably wondering why she had jerked her hands back.

  She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see it with his eyes closed. “Yes.” Forcing a smile, she poured every ounce of normal into her voice that she could muster. “Is your head hurting?”

  “No. My eyes were just…” He shook his head and smiled as he lowered his hand and met her gaze. “They’re fine now.”

  “Okay. Would you like to skip ahead to the reading?”

  He smiled. “Is your gift already warmed up then?”

  Among other things. “Yes.”

  He stood. “As you will.”

  Body burning, Aidan watched Dana cross to the bookshelf and reach up to grab her tarot cards. He could not stop his gaze from following a path down her back to her narrow waist, full hips, and the bottom he had clutched in her vision.

  Once more he felt the heat of her body as he had pressed her against him and ground his hips into hers. Damn, it had felt good. And it had felt so real that he had actually been surprised to find himself still sitting in her massage chair when she broke contact.

  If you don’t stop thinking about it, your eyes will begin to glow again, he counseled himself as he reached over to the coat hooks and grabbed his dress shirt. Drawing it on, he fastened the buttons down the front and left the tail untucked to hide the arousal Dana wouldn’t miss if she glanced at his slacks.

  “Are there any other questions you’d like me to try to answer tonight?” she asked as she claimed one of the chairs and motioned for him to take the other.

  Sitting across from her, Aidan took the deck she offered, cut it, and shuffled it several times. “Not really. Just curious about my future, I guess.”

  The vision had shaken her. But she did a fair job of hiding it as she began to lay out the cards. Her brow furrowed. “Something bad is definitely coming, Aidan. Has anything happened that could give you a clue as to what it might be? The more I know, the more I may be able to see.”

  He shook his head. “No.” He had even spent a couple of days at David’s place, which had become the hub of the Immortal Guardians’ world here on the East Coast, to see if he’d catch any weird vibes as Cliff would say. But Aidan had felt nothing off when he encountered Seth this past week. He had found no clues at all that might help him guess why Seth would apparently soon want to kill him. “Not so much as a hint,” he murmured.

  Frowning down at the cards, she slid her hand across the table.

  Aidan clasped it in his, eager to touch her again.

  How long had it been since he had held a woman’s hand?

  A moment’s thought couldn’t uncover the answer.

  He had taken a lover here in the United States in the 60s. A lot of immortals had. The era of free love and the prodigious use of hallucinogens had, for once, made it easy for them. No need to worry about their lovers freaking out over glowing eyes and fangs when such could be blamed on the drugs.

  But it had been a casual affair. All about sex. No emotional connection. No hand-holding or snuggling. No real spark, not like the one Aidan felt each time he saw or touched Dana.

  “I still can’t see what it is,” she said, raising frustrated eyes to his. “Just that it’s going to be bad.”

  “I’ve seen bad before and lived to tell the tale.”

  Her gaze dropped to his chest. “I guess you have. But you had men at your back you could trust then, didn’t you?”

  He slid his thumb across her hand, loving her soft skin. “You still believe I’ll face whatever is coming alone? That my brothers won’t be by my side?”

  She glanced down at the cards. “I don’t know if you’ll be alone. But I keep feeling like you won’t know who to trust. Or that someone you do trust may turn against you…” Her fingers tightened around his.

  Aidan delved into her thoughts as another vision gripped her.

  Two men, indistinct at first, hacked at each other with swords.

  Him and Seth again?

  No. As the figures swam into focus, Aidan had to clamp his lips together to prevent an expletive from bursting forth.

  Roland Warbrook swung his swords with furious precision. Nearly a millennium old, he was a formidable opponent, matching Aidan in skill. And Roland appeared to be as determined to kill Aidan as Seth had been in Dana’s previous vision.

  What the hell?

  Roland’s mouth moved in a shout that went unheard in the silent vision. But Aidan had little difficulty reading the British immortal’s lips.

  You killed her, you bloody bastard! You killed her!

  Dana yanked her hand back, leapt to her feet, and again stumbled away from the table, nearly knocking over her chair.

  Aidan’s heart pounded in his ears.

  Killed whom? Killed Sarah—Roland’s wife?

  His blood went cold. Who else but Roland’s wife could Aidan kill that would drive the reclusive, antisocial immortal to seek Aidan’s death?

  He swallowed hard.

  Aidan would never harm Sarah, let alone kill her. She was the one who had given him hope again. She was the reason he believed he might actually one day find a woman who would love him and transform for him. Nothing could make Aidan slay Sarah. It just didn’t make sense.

  “Okay,” Dana blurted, eyes wide as she pointed a trembling finger at him, “you have got to stop sword fighting in your spare time. Because that crap is going to get you killed!”

  If Seth and Roland both wanted Aidan dead, there was a damned good chance it would get him killed.

  She drew in several slow, deep breaths to calm herself, then retook her seat. “Aidan?”

  Try though he might, he couldn’t find a lighthearted response.

  Her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry Aidan. I didn’t mean to shout. And I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t really think your reenactment thing is crap. I just—”

  “Had another vision that startled you,” he interrupted, unoffended.

  “Yes, but I didn’t actually see you get killed, if that’s why you look so worried. It was just another vision of you and one of your reenactment friends going at each other with swords. But it was so vivid that it caught me off guard and scared me.” She smiled wryly. “Again.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sorry. I overreacted. I didn’t see you die. I really didn’t. So please, stop looking like I just told you the exact date and time of your death.”

  He wished she could tell him the exact date and time he would die. Then he would know how long he had to head off whatever the hell was going to make Seth and Roland want to kill him.

  He smiled and forced his shoulders to relax. “No worries.”

  Her lips tilted up in a smile as a twinkle entered her eyes. “I don’t know why so many people think men who do the whole reenactment thing are nerds. What I just saw was like something you’d see in the League of Assassins or something. Very impre
ssive.”

  He winked. “Does that mean you’ll still go to dinner with me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good.” He stood.

  Her eyebrows rose. “You mean now? Don’t you want me to finish the reading?”

  He shook his head. “Another time perhaps.” If she saw much more in her visions, she’d know they had nothing to do with a reenactment group. He would like to get to know her better—and for her to get to know him better—before he risked all and tried to explain the whole I’m-immortal-and-kill-vampires-for-a-living thing.

  Rising, Aidan crossed to the coat hooks and retrieved his tie.

  “I’ll go change my shoes,” Dana said as she headed for the doorway.

  “You’re welcome to wear those,” Aidan reminded her, glancing at her Chucks.

  She laughed. “Maybe on our next date.” Her eyes widened. “I mean, if there is one.”

  Aidan winked when color flooded her face. “Too late. You’ve already promised me a second date. I’m going to hold you to it.”

  Laughing again, she ducked out of the room.

  The restaurant Aidan had chosen was owned and operated by the network.

  Chris Reordon apparently was the human equivalent of Seth. The man could do anything and had a finger in everything.

  Aidan had learned in the two years since he’d transferred to North Carolina that Chris was one of those stellar individuals who went above and beyond the call of duty. The network head’s job was to ensure that the existence of immortals, vampires, and gifted ones remained a secret by cleaning up the messes immortals and vampires made, keeping Immortal Guardians supplied with bagged blood (donated by network employees), providing them with new identities each time they outlived their current one, forging whatever other documentation they needed to move from country to country, giving them new homes, safe houses for emergencies, an impressive income, and the like.

  The network head also had to oversee the thousands of mortal employees who aided the Immortal Guardians by studying the virus that infected them, monitoring the internet for any videos or mentions that might out the immortals, posing as emergency-response crews when things got messier than usual, managing the Immortal Guardians’ money, infiltrating certain agencies that were swathed in secrecy so they could gain more intel and provide Immortal Guardians with real-time satellite-surveillance images when the immortals launched the kind of large-scale battles they had in recent years, serving as Seconds (or mortal guards who each served a particular immortal, handled business for them during daylight hours, backed them up in battle, and kept them from living too solitary an existence), and more.