Absolute Surrender

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  He nodded. There was no apology in his expression as he came closer. “The moment I found out you were my mate, I wanted to learn everything about you. I think Lila must have understood that. It’s probably the only reason she showed me.”

  “Showed you?” The spasm worsened. She pressed down on her tummy. “Everything?”

  “No. Just your time in foster care.” His expression hardened. “It makes me angry to know they got away with what they did to you. Gods help them if I ever find them.”

  “Don’t, Aethan.” She set her mug down, understanding that his anger was for her, for the way she’d been abused by her foster family. “It happened a long time ago.”

  “How old were you when you left?”

  “Nine.” Echo rubbed her arms again, unable to stop her shivers, despite the heat from the fire. She remembered every terrifying minute of the night she’d snuck out of her foster family’s house in the dark hours with her meager possessions, never to return.

  “It wasn’t easy living on the streets, but I got by. Then I turned thirteen, entered puberty, and my pheromones created worse problems. Pimps, hustlers, anything with a Y chromosome came after me. I didn’t know why back then and I lived in terror whenever I saw a man. That’s when I met Tamsyn.”

  She smiled, remembering her friend, how fast she’d whipped out her stiletto and nicked the pimp in the throat, forcing him to let Echo go. “Tamsyn had already acquired a badass reputation on the streets. She was older, street savvy. She taught me how to defend myself. Of course, being so young, fighting wasn’t always a good idea. Running and hiding was better, but she never left me alone.” Echo pressed the scar on her forehead, easing the headache building behind it.

  “One night Tamsyn went out. She had to. We hadn’t eaten in two days. I was ill so I remained behind. Then I saw him, the demonii standing in the basement where we slept. He stood there sniffing the air. The other kids scattered, hid, but he wasn’t interested in them. He came for me. He–he tore my clothes.” She squeezed her eyes closed at the horrific memory, her voice a whisper. “I’m just grateful Damon found me when he did.”

  When warm hands covered hers, her eyes flickered open. Aethan sat on the coffee table, opposite her.

  “Tell me the rest. What happened?”

  She swallowed her tears and forged on. “After Damon adopted me, Tamsyn and I remained friends through the years. Five years ago I met Tamsyn in Chinatown, had dinner, and was heading for my car, when Tamsyn grabbed my arm and hauled me into an alley. She said we were being followed by demoniis, she’d handle them, and I had to get the hell out of there. She shoved me toward the back entrance of a bakery and ordered me to run because she couldn’t be bothered to worry about my ass in a fight. But I knew why. At eighteen, I still had no idea how to use a dagger or fight.”

  Echo pushed to her feet unable to sit still. “I was half-way out of the bakery but I knew I couldn’t leave. I had to make sure she was all right. I hurried back. She’d already killed one of them. But the other, he was stronger. He’d disarmed her—his mouth on hers as he siphoned her soul, then–then he tore at her neck.”

  “You can’t blame yourself,” Aethan said quietly.

  “You don’t understand. Tamsyn was wearing my sweater.” She choked on her words. “He didn’t want her. He wanted me, was drawn by the scent of my pheromones on my sweater. He said she smelled delicious.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Aethan stared out the kitchen window as he waited for the others to come in from the night patrol. He hoped Echo would rest and get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. The depth of her despair had him pacing the length of the kitchen. He understood her anger, her need for revenge, but he couldn’t let her put herself in danger again.

  Gods! He pulled out a chair and dropped into it. Shutting his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. What a mess.

  Footfalls echoed in the corridor. The door pushed open and Blaéz came in, followed by Týr.

  “Damn demoniis must be taking a break,” Týr complained, crashing into the chair opposite him. He looked at Aethan, his eyes sparking with his old amusement. “The highlight of this evening was watching Echo make you run around in circles. It damn sure made my night.”

  Aethan let Týr’s near-friendly dig slide, grateful the male chose to speak to him again. Not that he deserved it. Besides, they’d dropped everything and came to his aid when Echo went missing and that meant a great deal more than the jabs from Týr.

  “She’s okay, then?” Blaéz asked, as he shrugged off his trench coat. He tossed the garment on a chair and ran a hand through his hair.

  “If you mean unharmed, yes.”

  “Why did she leave the protection of the castle in the first place?” Týr asked. He pulled out his pack of M&M’s, ignoring the snacks on the table, and dumped several on his palm.

  Aethan ignored the question. Like he was going to tell them the reason. That he couldn’t claim his mate. Unloading his crap wasn’t happening.

  “Echo lived on the streets as a child.” Yes, that got their attention off why she left.

  Týr paused in his selection of all things green. “You mean homeless?”

  “What other kind is there?” Blaéz asked.

  “She was too young and an older girl befriended her, watched out for her, especially when puberty hit. Kept her safe from the Y’s—”

  “The what?” Týr asked, confused.

  “It’s what she calls the males.”

  “Damn, I like her,” Týr said, grinning. His shoulders lifted in a shrug at Aethan’s cold stare. “Don’t go getting all fired-up again. I know she’s your female.”

  He dropped the rest of the candy into the package.

  The Norse’s annoying habit of eating his sweets according to the Pantone Color Chart made Aethan growl, “Why can’t you eat the damn things straight?”

  “They’re all the same beneath the fancy colors.” Blaéz pointed out.

  Týr glanced at them, his expression serious. “It’s art. Each spectrum has to be enjoyed, savored, especially green.”

  And the shit-eating smirk was back. Made Aethan realize he’d missed the bastard. “After Echo was adopted,” he continued, bracing his arms on the table. “She kept up her friendship with Tamsyn, until five years ago when the demonii attacked them. Here’s the thing: the demonii said she smelled delicious. Tamsyn was wearing Echo’s sweater.”

  “Ah hell,” Týr murmured.

  “Damn hard to live with that kind of guilt,” Blaéz said.

  The door opened. Michael entered followed by Dagan.

  The Sumerian warrior had finally shown up in all his menacing glory. His black hair, longer than the last time Aethan had seen him, had several warrior braids woven into it. Slitted, yellow eyes flicked over them before settling into a look of indifference. Týr, he didn’t even glance at.

  The smirk, which slipped off Týr’s face when they entered, was replaced with an expression one rarely saw, except when looking at the Celt. His gaze was like a void.

  Michael tossed his shades onto the table. There wasn’t anything angelic about his tough face and forbidding appearance tonight.

  “Your female, she is well?” he asked Aethan.

  A flash of surprise brightened Dagan’s eyes, before they resumed their remoteness.

  “Yeah.” Aethan filled Michael in on the latest developments and about the demon Echo was after.

  “It’s not unusual for a demon to fixate on a human, especially one with pheromones at play,” Michael agreed. “It’s normal to want to avenge a loved one.”

  Aethan cut him an annoyed look. What the hell did he know? Archangels were created for war. Love wasn’t part of their make-up.

  “Whatever. They won’t get another chance at her,” he growled. “Can someone explain to me why her apartment would have protection wards? Like the ones we use. It’s not the oracle or her guardian, both are mortals.”

  “There’s one,” Blaéz said, reaching for a choc
olate chip cookie. “A’Damiel.”

  Aethan shook his head at the name. “No. He may be immortal but he’s too self-involved, can’t see one like him wanting to protect a mortal.”

  “I’ll have a look at the wards,” Michael said, heading for the fridge. He snagged a can of coke. “Your mate will be protected here. But as to her safety, make her understand the seriousness of this. She needs to know about the demons hunting for a psychic mortal who ties into a prophecy. Since she’s psychic too, she’ll be high on their list.”

  Like he didn’t know that? It wasn’t frightening Echo that worried him, but what she’d do when more restrictions were placed on her. Restless, he pushed to his feet and headed for the fridge. Raiding it, he found a can of juice. He popped the tab, and was sucking back the orange nectar, when he remembered something.

  Shit! With everything that had happened, he’d forgotten about the information he’d received from Riley.

  “Michael?” Aethan flipped his chair and sat astride it. The Archangel glanced at him, after taking a long, thirsty swallow of his addiction. “I met with my contact a few days ago, but never had a chance to bring this up before. He said the scroll the demon has is a prophecy relating to the angels. Care to share?”

  Every sound in the kitchen drained out.

  “Yes, Michael, care to share?” Týr reiterated, his voice lowered to glacial levels. “Wait, I get it. Latrine cleaners aren’t good enough to know the truth, right? Meeting’s over.”

  He pushed to his feet, but Blaéz grabbed his arm and yanked the hothead down.

  Michael never flinched from their accusing looks. Nor was there any apology in his expression. “The Celestial Realm doesn’t care to have its messes revealed, but no longer.” His words were as hard as his expression. He set the coke on the table. “Zarias was the leader of the highest level angels and the last to fall. His dying words became this prophecy. He cast an ancient spell protecting his bloodline, prophesying a female would rise again. And the very ones who annihilated them would be responsible for her safety. She cannot come to harm. If that happens then every evil ever known will have free excess to this world and others. In short, Zarias made sure his spell would cause us endless trouble.”

  A mortal Healer would guarantee them the endless trouble, Aethan knew. Demons would be on her like damn flies.

  “Who was Zarias for this kind of shit to happen?” Blaéz asked.

  “The leader of the Watchers.”

  Aethan stilled. “You’re talking about the powerful angels who were chosen to watch over fledgling mankind, instead they fell for human females—the reason why the unspoken laws became Absolute?”

  “The same.”

  “Who killed him?” Dagan finally broke his silence. He pulled a narrow black case out of his biker jacket pocket, selected a thin cigar, and popped the thing between his lips, but he didn’t light it.

  “I did.”

  At Michael’s disclosure, a hush descended over them.

  “Why?” Dagan asked around the unlit cigar.

  A flicker of a shadow passed through Michael’s gaze. Regret? Perhaps staying on the mortal realm had rubbed off on him.

  “They broke the Absolute Laws, took mortal females as consorts, and bore offspring with powers no human should possess. Demons came out in droves, killing the offspring for that power, which enraged Gaia. Mortals are under her protection, and one does not anger a Being like her.”

  The similarities between himself and the Watchers didn’t escape Aethan. He’d nuke any fucker who dared to even think of touching Echo. He looked at the other warriors around him and hoped to the Heavens they didn’t suffer Zarias’s fate.

  “Now, about the female,” Michael said. “Once she’s found, she will ascend to the Celestial Realm.”

  “You’re talking about a mortal,” Blaéz interrupted, pushing away from his seat. He rattled through cupboards, found the bottle of Blue Label, picked up a squat glass, and sat down again. “You imagine she’ll happily go someplace and leave her family behind?”

  “She will. That is why whoever protects her must make her understand this: demons will always be on the prowl for her. She will not survive long on this realm.”

  ***

  Aethan stepped out of the shower and hesitated, his body twitching. Why the hell couldn’t his unruly sex behave? The cold water had done little to help settle his dangerous needs. And Echo would be in the bedroom—

  Jaw tight, he swiped a towel off the rail, hitched it around his hips, and strode into the bedroom, sweeping back his damp hair. He stopped when he saw her in the lounge. Ready for work. Dressing could wait. He had to talk to her first.

  This wasn’t going to be easy. After Michael’s disclosure, he’d be damned before he let anything else happen to her. So far he was doing a helluva job of keeping her safe.

  She smiled and handed him a steaming mug of coffee. “You look far too serious this early in the morning.”

  He didn’t answer but took the mug and sat on the couch beside her.

  “What time did you come in?” she asked him.

  “I didn’t go out.” He set the cup on the table, turned to her, and realized there was no easy way to do this.

  “Echo, I want you to take a leave of absence from the gym.”

  She stared at him, like he spoke a foreign language. “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  She uncurled her legs and got off the couch. “I understand why you’re asking me this. But I’m not running from some demon. I fought too hard to live a normal life. My guardian wouldn’t let me move out of the loft until I was twenty-one,” she said, her expression tightening. “No. I won’t be locked up.”

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?” Edginess crawling through him, Aethan stood, too. “You experience dreams that haunt you, leave you screaming in the night.” At her betrayed expression, he snapped, “Yes, Kira told me. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

  “It’s just a dream.” She glared at him. “And now you’re gift-wrapping a cage. I won’t be a prisoner.” She stomped into the bathroom and shut the door. The locks engaged, spiking his anger.

  ***

  Her chest heaving, Echo leaned on the counter and stuck her clenched fists under the running water. She couldn’t—wouldn’t be trapped, held helpless again.

  The bathroom door flew open.

  She spun around. “I’m done talking.”

  “Then you can listen.” He grabbed her by the waist, dumped her on the cold countertop, and shut off the faucet.

  Furious, the towel riding low on his lean hips, he leaned over her like some wrathful angel. His palms were planted on either side of her hip, his muscles rippling beneath his tawny skin. His minty breath caressed her face. She struggled to regain control of her thoughts and settled for glaring at him and holding onto his thick biceps, since she was almost sprawled over the counter.

  “Let me up, Aethan. I’m in no mood for a repeat of the same conversation”

  “That’s too bad. I’m worried about your safety and you think this is a prison?”

  Her resentment rose. “Call it whatever you want. Keeping me here with restrictions makes it a prison, no matter how you dress it.”

  “There’s a demon after you. There’s a damn army of minions after you. But you don’t care how I feel about this, do you?”

  “That’s not fair—”

  “Nothing in life is fair. Your foster father locked you in the basement because he’s an ignorant son-of-a-bitch. But this is not a damn cellar. You’d have run of the entire damn castle, barring the other warrior’s apartments. I won’t lose you to some evil fucker.” He bit out the words, his eyes blazing silver. “Tell me, what do you think would have happened had I not found you in that subway?”

  She scowled, hating that he was right.

  The ringing of a cell phone cut through the thickened air of fraying tempers. He didn’t move, only continued to stare at her when she didn’t answer. What coul
d she say? Because deep down Echo knew she would have died in that tunnel.

  His point made, Aethan let her go and strode from the bathroom, a nerve ticking furiously in his jaw.

  Echo stared at the empty doorway. She didn’t want to fight with him. Dragging in a deep breath, she took a moment to calm down before hopping off the counter and following him to the dressing room. There had to be a way out of this, a compromise.

  She drew to a halt. The sight of him, yanking on jeans, had her riveted. He didn’t wear boxers, briefs or whatever, and the man made her blood soar. He took a tee from the shelf of a wall-to-wall closet and tugged it on. Then he snagged a thong from a drawer. Raking back his hair, he tied it into a short tail.

  “If you have to go to work,” he said, glancing at her, “then I’m not taking any chances on your safety. The night shift is completely out of the question. It’s all I’m prepared to concede on. Or else Hedori stays with you as your bodyguard.” He sat on the wooden chest and tugged on a boot.

  The fact that he relented meant more to her than anything else. Still—Argh! She certainly didn’t want Hedori trailing after her every minute of the day. She went over and sat on the chest next to him as he pulled on his other boot.

  “Aethan, how you feel matters to me. I never meant to brush off your concerns. It’s just the thought—” She sucked in a deep breath. “Being locked up is too painful.”

  “I know, me’morae.” He reached out and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “That’s not my intention. I only want you safe.”

  “I know...what was that you called me?”

  His gaze held hers. Quiet. Intense. “My love.”

  Happiness flowed through her at his words. She rubbed her cheek against his arm. “I can arrange for someone else to cover my evening clients.”

  “I’d appreciate that. I’m on the edge where you’re concerned,” he admitted, brushing his lips against her hair.

  She drew back, frowning at his tone. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

  He let her go, braced his elbows on his knees, his gaze still on her. “We not only keep the realm safe from evil but also from unfolding prophecies.”