Forever in Darkness (novella) (Order of the Blade #4)

by Rowe, Stephanie

  Honor didn’t mean he was supposed to shrivel in the corner, afraid to look at an auburn-haired woman. It meant he stood tall, faced down that damn curse and defeated it. The curse had come to claim him, and it was time to step up and fight it. He needed to challenge what it threw at him and prove himself stronger.

  He had to face it.

  Ian clenched his jaw and slowly turned his head back to the woman. He steeled himself for the impact of seeing her, but the moment he saw her again, he felt like he’d been sucker-punched in the gut.

  It was Catherine. It was her. It was his woman.

  He would never forget those strawberry-gold highlights in her hair, the upturned slant of her nose, the way her lips pressed together in tension. Her skin was paler than he recalled, but her hips had that same curve of muscles and femininity. He would never forget the feel of her hips beneath his hands when she’d fallen down that damned cliff and he’d caught her. He knew exactly how they felt, precisely how they curved, and he knew just how her jeans caressed them.

  Her hair was tossed over her right shoulder in a tumble of waves, and her white tee shirt hugged her body like it was put on this earth to torment him. The plain cotton was almost innocent in its simplicity, but the curve of her breasts beneath it made Ian’s thoughts go to places that were far from innocent. On her left wrist was a thin gold bracelet that matched the gold hoops in her ears. No other adornment, no other flash. Not even any makeup. Just the pure, sensual beauty of a woman who was simply who she was, and that was more than enough for him.

  She was searching the room now, her face tense with worry as she scanned the crowd. Her tension made his protective instincts pulse deep. Adrenaline rushed through him, and his weapons burned in his arms. This time the urge to arm himself was not to impale himself like some weak-willed embarrassment to his kind, but to protect her. To make her safe. To keep her from the fate she’d already suffered twice—

  Twice?

  Ian swore and gritted his teeth. What was he thinking? It made no sense that this woman was Catherine Taylor, that she was some reincarnation anomaly who could come back to life hours after he’d buried her. What the hell was his problem?

  He knew the answer to that one. The curse was his problem. It was going to keep trying to make him relive the death of his sheva until it finally broke him.

  Well, fuck that. The woman across the bar wasn’t his sheva. He was going to prove it, and then cut himself free from her influence.

  She turned her head and met his gaze. His gut jumped as her green eyes met his, and he felt himself sliding helplessly under her spell. She stiffened, then took a step back and glanced over her shoulder toward the door.

  She was leaving? Unacceptable.

  Urgency coursed through Ian, and he broke from the corner, heading right for her.

  Her eyes widened when she realized he was approaching, and her cheeks flushed. But she didn’t back away. She lifted her chin and waited for him to approach.

  Anticipation roared through him as he neared her, and an urgent lust rose within him as he closed the distance between them. The scent of lilac and lavender filled the air, so subtle, so faint that he wouldn’t even have noticed it if he hadn’t been searching for it so relentlessly.

  Lilac and lavender. Hot damn. She smelled right.

  Her green eyes searched his, and in them he saw pain and fear, so deeply etched it had become a part of her soul. But at the same time, they flashed with defiance and courage, a woman who had not surrendered to the burden she carried. Respect surged through him, igniting his lust even further.

  But it was more than respect and lust. It was a raw, burning need to drag her over to him and make her his, in any and every way that he could.

  She swallowed, and he felt her rising nervousness. “What do you want?” she asked.

  Sweet Jesus. Her voice was like the choir of angels. Desire exploded through him, a yearning so powerful he could barely contain it. He had spent his life fighting the carnal urges that were a part of being a Calydon male, determined not to let them rule him and put him in a position where a woman could bring him down. But with those four words, this woman had unleashed all the raw sexual need he’d held at bay for so long.

  She had to be Catherine. She had to be his sheva. There was no other explanation for the intensity of his response…but Catherine had died eight months ago. Her spirit couldn’t have been reincarnated into a twenty-something body that was already alive.

  What the hell was going on?

  He needed answers. He had to know. He wanted to feel her body against his, to crush her into him and feel their bodies come together. He needed to dive deep into her soul and see who she really was, and he needed it now. The pulsing of music from the band vibrated through him, the deep base thudding in every cell in his body. “Dance with me,” he said hoarsely, his voice raw with lust and need. “Dance with me.”

  Desire flared in her eyes, so quickly and so powerfully that he nearly went to his knees from the force of his response to her. But then she shook her head and started backing away from him. “I can’t,” she said, her voice throaty and desperate. “I have to—”

  “Catherine.” He held out his hand, offering her all he had. “Dance with me.”

  Her face registered shock, and she stopped retreating. “Did you just call me Catherine?”

  Ian went still, stunned by the expression on her face. Son of a bitch. Her name really was Catherine? Raw, instinctive possession thrummed through him, and he didn’t ask her to dance again. He simply reached for her hand and took it.

  The electricity hummed between them the moment their skin touched. Catherine sucked in her breath and tried to pull back.

  Ian tightened his grip. “One dance.”

  She met his gaze, hesitation evident on her features. He steeled himself for her refusal, knowing he could not allow her to separate from him. Not yet. Not until he had answers.

  Sudden determination flared in her eyes, chasing away her fear. Her strength struck him, intensifying his lust.

  She nodded, the smallest inclination of her head, but it was enough. Anticipation hummed through him as he led her onto the dance floor, his hand on her back to guide her and to keep her in front of him where he could protect her. Bodies bumped against them, but he blocked them with his shoulder, keeping them from hitting Catherine.

  He reached the spot he wanted, in the furthest, darkest corner of the dance floor, then he turned her toward him. Wariness flashed in her green eyes, but her cheeks were flushed and he could scent the desire racing through her. Whatever he was feeling, she was experiencing it too. The realization that the intense sensuality heating up between them was completely mutual kicked his lust into high gear.

  Ian didn’t give her a chance to hesitate or change her mind. He simply set his hands on her hips and pulled her against him, and she let him.

  The moment he felt her hand settle on his shoulder, Ian knew that was exactly where she was supposed to be: in his arms. He looked down at her as he slid his hand over her lower back, softening his grip when he felt her resist as she tried to keep their bodies from touching. Her pulse was hammering in her neck, a desperate flutter that he wanted to press his lips against and ease.

  Instead, he took a deep breath to calm his lust. “Who are you?” he asked softly as he tunneled his fingers through her thick hair. Sweet Jesus, it felt unbelievable to have her in his arms. “And how come you aren’t dead anymore?”

  Wariness flickered in her eyes, and he knew before she answered that she wasn’t going to tell him.

  As if he could accept that.

  The woman had died twice already. That wasn’t the kind of thing a guy could let go.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Alice’s heart was hammering, and her skin felt hot as she stared up at the man who seemed to consume the very air he breathed. He dominated the room, his presence so strong and powerful it seemed to diminish everything around him. He smelled faintly of fresh earth and
perspiration, the scent of a man who was sheer, raw male. Her entire body was thrumming from his touch, and she felt as if her skin was on fire where his hand was pressed against her lower back, urging her closer to him.

  His brown eyes were dark and intense as he watched her, moving her gracefully in time with the music as he waited for her answer. She felt as if he was looking right through her, ferreting out all her secrets, unearthing everything she was trying so desperately to survive.

  She knew she should feel terrified of him, with all his strength and power, with the way he towered over her, but she didn’t. She couldn’t take her gaze off his face, off the intensity of his stare, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew him, that she’d met him, that somehow they had crossed paths before.

  He’d called her Catherine.

  Catherine.

  How had he come up with that name? Had it been a fluke? A coincidence? Or was he not the stranger he seemed to be? What did he know? And could it help her? She whispered a silent prayer that this man, that this sensual, alluring male that was awakening such desire in her had answers that would help her. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Ian Fitzgerald,” he said easily, with just the faintest hit of a brogue beneath his words, as if he’d once had it but had lost the accent so long ago that it was no longer a part of who he was.

  His name made chills roll down her spine, and she shivered at the sound of it. But why? She was sure she’d never heard it before. “Who are you?”

  His eyes darkened even more, and a hooded shadow took over his face. “I kill bad guys.”

  The answer was not the truth, not the entire truth. She could see from the tension in his jaw that he was holding back, but at the same time, the pride in his voice told her that there was truth in his words.

  The man holding her so possessively in his arms really did kill bad guys. Sudden hope flared inside her, leaping to life. Dear God, was he her answer? “Are you for hire?”

  Ian’s grip tightened on her, and he hauled her against him. Their bodies smacked together with an impact so intense it sent spirals of heat coiling through her. She tried to lean her shoulders back, to keep her breasts off his chest, but his muscular arm tightened around her, locking her down against him. “You’re in danger.” It wasn’t a question. It was a declaration that he’d figured out her deal, and he didn’t like it. His voice was rough and harsh, and she felt his barely contained fury raging through him.

  Ian’s protective response was like a firecracker, igniting something inside her so powerful she suddenly couldn’t keep herself away from him. For so long, she’d been trying to protect others. No one protected her. Ever. It went against the very essence of what she was. It was literally against the foundation of nature for someone to try to keep her safe.

  And yet, here was this powerful male claiming that right.

  Dear God, it felt amazing. Tears burned in her eyes, and she slid her hands over his shoulders and behind his neck, allowing him to crush their bodies against each other. She could feel her heart hammering against his chest, and she knew he could feel it, too. It was crazy, insane, her response to him, but she couldn’t help it and she didn’t want to.

  This man was so intense, so much more than she’d ever met before. He was strong enough to charge right past all the rules and regulations surrounding who she was and what her role was in this world. And he knew about her. She wasn’t sure exactly what he knew, but he had a history, a knowledge, an intuition…something. She knew, because he’d called her Catherine. Plus, the idea of her being in danger had unleashed something so fierce and protective inside him that it made every part of her respond, and the agony of the shadows in his eyes called to her heart.

  This man was so much, and she wanted him. She needed him. She wanted to throw herself into his safekeeping and climb inside his soul. “Yes,” she said finally. “I am in danger.”

  His grip tightened on her, his eyes blazing as he pulled her so tightly she could barely breathe. “You did die, didn’t you? Twice? That really happened?”

  Alice caught her breath at his question, and she stiffened. “Why do you ask that?” How would he know? Unless he’d been there. Unless he’d been part of it. Sudden fear congealed inside her. Was that why he was familiar? Because he’d been there? Had he been one of those sent to make sure she died? Was he her next ticket back to hell?

  Frantic, she pulled back, startled when he loosened his grip enough to give her space.

  But she quickly realized that he hadn’t actually released her. He was still holding her, still in a position to haul her back into his arms if he chose to. Her heart started racing again, and this time, it wasn’t from heated desire or intense sensual awareness. It was the raw fear that she’d just met her next death.

  His eyes narrowed, and his fingers tightened around her arms. “Catherine,” he said softly. “You don’t need to fear me. I can’t hurt you—” Then something flickered in his eyes, a brutal acknowledgement that he hadn’t actually spoken the entire truth. He could hurt her. He could kill her. She could see it in his eyes.

  “Let me go,” she gasped, trying to struggle out of his grasp. It was too soon to die again. She needed more time! She grabbed his hands and tried to pry them off her. Her hands closed over his forearm, and searing heat burned her palm. She jerked her hand back and saw what she had touched.

  Black brands in the shape of an ancient weapon, burned into his flesh. Stunned fear shot through her and she stared at him. “You’re a Calydon.”

  “Order of the Blade.” There was no mistaking the pride in his voice, but she didn’t care, not anymore.

  She started to back up. “Calydons are part demon,” she said. “You’re demon. You’re demon.”

  Ian narrowed his eyes. “I’m not a demon—”

  “Of course you are! It’s what gives you your powers! Demon magic!” The scars on her chest from the last attack began to ache, a reminder of what she was to the monsters of hell. “I—”

  “Catherine!” He grabbed her just as she lunged for the door. His hand closed around her arm as she tumbled out into the back hallway.

  She tried to twist free, but within a split second, she found herself pinned against the wall by the powerful warrior. His hips were against hers, and her hands were above her head. He kicked the door shut, cutting them off from the rest of the world and isolating her in the rarely-used back hallway of Deliverance.

  Her heart began to hammer, and fear rippled through her. Fear and desire, in some inane mix of emotions. How could she possibly be responding sensually when he had nearly attacked her and pinned her to the wall? How could she be responding to him sexually regardless of what he was doing to her? She didn’t have physical responses to men. Not like this. It wasn’t allowed. What was going on? She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “What are you?” she demanded. “I need answers, and I don’t have time for this.”

  “Don’t have time?” he echoed, raising his brows. “What, do you have plans to die again? Got a date with death you can’t be late for?”

  She hesitated. There was that question again. Why was he asking that? Didn’t he know? Was he not there to hurt her? “Did you kill me before?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You don’t remember?”

  “I—” She paused, uncertain how much to share. Was he the enemy or something else? Something less dangerous? Like her salvation, or something equally impossible and unrealistic?

  “Catherine.” Ian’s voice became low, and it thrummed deep inside her. She became so aware of the heat of his body as he pressed against her, of the cold wall on her back, of the pulse of desire low in her belly.

  He took a lock of her hair and wrapped it around his hand. “I need to know,” he said, his dark eyes searching hers, so full of agony and despair that her heart broke for him. “Did you die on me twice? Are you the same woman I met? Are you the woman I thought I lost twice already? Or am I losing my damn mind?” His grip tightened o
n her hair. “Tell me,” he said urgently. “I need to know.”

  Alice’s heart began to pound at his desperation. It plunged straight into her heart, because she lived with that same desperation every minute of every day, or she had ever since that night five years ago when she’d lost the one person who breached the shields in her heart and opened her soul.

  Ian lowered his head and pressed his face in the curve of her neck, a gesture so intimate and personal that she wanted to cry.

  “You smell right,” he said softly. “You smell like the woman I was born to be with.” Then he lifted his head, and there was such agony in his eyes. “You smell like the woman who will destroy me.”

  “Me?” She laughed softly then, a release of tension like a gift of fresh life. “Ian, I can’t destroy anyone, trust me. It’s logistically impossible.”

  Ian ran his hand over her shoulder, his palm warm against her skin, his dark eyes hunting hers. “Why not? Tell me, Catherine. I need to know.”

  Alice shook her head, her body trembling from his touch. Dear God, how could he affect her like this? She’d never responded to a male like this before. It was terrifying how badly she wanted him, but at the same time, it made her feel more alive than she’d ever been before…which was sort of ironic, given what she was. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m bound to secrecy. I couldn’t tell you what I am even if I wanted to.”

  He pulled back then, his eyes so haunted. He searched her face, and she saw the moment he grasped what she was saying. That she truly didn’t have the ability to tell him.

  To her surprise, he didn’t ask why. He didn’t question it. He didn’t even seem rattled by it. He simply arched one brow and offered a challenge. “Do you want to tell me?”

  As she stared into the face of this powerful warrior who, with a single touch had ignited desire in her that was so foreign to her that she hadn’t even thought it was possible for her to feel it, this male who already knew things she could never explain, this warrior who was so powerful that maybe, just maybe, he could help her… And she knew her answer. “Yes. As God is my witness, I wish I could tell you and then you would throw me on your gleaming white stallion and save the damned day. I need a fairy godmother, and she’s been completely derelict in her duties, so I’d be willing to take a knight in shining armor. I’m kind of outmatched right now, to be honest.” She stared at him, afraid to hope, terrified to put her trust in a man who might be the one to finally do her in. “Can you help me?”