A heavy sigh left him. “Why, Echo? Why him?”
She opened her mouth to respond but Damon shook his head and turned away. Hands on his hips, he paced around the room then stopped in front of her.
“He’ll hurt you. He won’t stay. He can’t.”
She didn’t think so, not when Aethan made a point of telling her he’d never let her go. “I’m his destined-mate, Damon. But whatever happens in the future, I’ll face it when the time comes.”
He squeezed his eyes shut at her revelation and shook his head. A long sigh left him.
“Why did Aethan hit you—why does he hate you?” she asked, unwrapping the dishtowel from her burning palm. Maybe it needed a Band-Aid or something. She examined the cut, hadn’t realized it was so deep. Blood still oozed out of the wound.
The next moment Damon came over and took her injured hand in his. She looked up, meeting unreadable violet eyes.
“Because of something that happened in the past.”
Before she could continue her questions, he laid a finger on her open wound. A pale blue light streamed out. Warmth surrounded the injury and, before her very eyes, the skin knitted together.
No! Her chest constricted in denial. Damon, he’s like Aethan—he’s immortal?
She exhaled harshly, shaking her head. “No!”
“Yes, Echo,” he said quietly, his grip tightening when she would have pulled away. “I am immortal. But I’m not as self-sacrificing as the Guardians are. I like my life the way it is. Centuries ago...” He frowned. “This world was different back then. The humans call it the Dark Ages. It had been dark, all right. Demoniis roamed all over Europe, destroying humans and spawning demonic offspring with the females. I could have helped them...” He shrugged, staring at her healed palm. “Many lives were lost, including a Guardian who protected that region. They’ve never forgiven me.”
“You let another warrior die?” She stared at him in shock. “How could you?”
His expression flattened. “I’m not a Guardian. It’s not my fight.”
She snatched her hand away. This wasn’t the man she knew and loved. Aethan put his life on the line every night that he went out. But how could Damon, who she thought of as family, be so callous?
But hearing his cool, detached words, she wondered if she’d ever really known him, except for what he allowed people to see.
“Echo, in some things...we don’t have free will.”
“Free will be damned,” she snapped. “There’s a thing called compassion.”
A sigh left him.
Fisting her healed hand, she stared at him long and hard. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about you?”
He shrugged. “It didn’t seem important at the time. You were a child, had nightmares, and hated anything to do with the supernatural. It surprised me when I found that I didn’t want you to hate me, too. So I chose not to.”
How could she believe him when he’d kept so much from her? She opened her psychic sight and searched for his aura but, like all the times before, it remained hidden.
“Why can’t I see your aura?”
He sighed again, as if he didn’t want to do this. Too bad, because she wanted to know who the hell she’d been living with all these years.
“It’s there,” he said. “Look closely.”
She turned disillusioned eyes to him, forced her anger down, and opened her mind once again. It was almost transparent, like Blaéz’s. Her breathing hitched. “What are you, Damon?”
“Someone who cared enough to adopt you.”
Damn him for that cheap shot. “Was that even real? The adoption?”
“Yes.”
“Why? You couldn’t be bothered to save a Guardian but you saved me?” she asked him dully.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, a gesture she’d rarely seen him do, as if to contain his restlessness.
“Nothing is what it seems, Echo. Some just ask for trouble, with others, it finds them.”
“If I was trouble, then why did you kill that demonii in the basement and take me?”
“Not trouble, Echo. You were all that was right in my life.” His steady gaze held hers. “I was in the area. I heard a scream, one I couldn’t ignore.”
She shook her head. “But I didn’t yell. I couldn’t. I was paralyzed by fear.”
“I felt you on a psychic plane. That’s why I couldn’t ignore you. I traced the scream to the basement. Just in time, too. When I saw what that bastard would do to you, I killed him.” His gaze softened. “You were so traumatized. I looked into your eyes and felt something I never felt before.”
“What? Pity?”
“No. Concern.”
A small part of her wanted to hold onto the only family she’d ever known, to forgive him. “I guess I should thank you.” Her words came out harsher than she’d meant them to.
“You already did.” Violet eyes held hers. For a fleeting second she saw something move in them. Tenderness? She couldn’t be sure because it disappeared.
“You kept me a little human.” He traced a finger down her cheek, the usual easy-going smile no longer evident. “Be happy.”
He shimmered and dematerialized right in front of her, shocking her again.
How had she missed the signs? She looked at her healed hands and remembered. After she started living with Damon, if she got hurt, her injuries would mysteriously mend in a few days. He’d said it was because she was a fast healer.
Another memory filtered through. When he first brought her to his home, he had no idea what to do with her. Her mind had been so fractured from her ordeal, she barely hung onto reality, but she remembered the warmth surrounding her, unbelievable warmth that pulled her back to life again. Damon had set her in front of the fireplace and wrapped her in a blanket when she couldn’t stop shivering.
Then he made her cocoa—no, he’d phoned someone to find out how to make cocoa because he didn’t know how. He always made her that chocolaty drink when nightmares troubled her. If things got too bad for even cocoa to fix, then he took her to Gran and Kira. She sniffed as tears fell and her anger faded.
He’d been patient, waited for her to trust him enough to open up. Years later she’d told him about her past. And he was there, when the latest nightmares started.
No, nothing else mattered, she realized then. He’d been the only one to take her in when no one else wanted her. The secrets were no longer important. He was her family.
She pulled out her cell and dashed at her tears as she called his number. She wanted to tell him she was sorry. It went to straight to voicemail. Her stomach dipped at the horrid feeling taking over and more tears sprang to her eyes.
Damon had said goodbye.
***
Halfway to the castle, Aethan reached for her hand and saw the wound on her palm had healed. He wasn’t surprised. He stroked his thumb over the new scar. The tears that ravaged her face gnawed at him. He didn’t like to see her this way, and more, he wanted her to talk to him.
Night had fallen when he finally drove across the bridge and through the thick fog to reach the gates of the estate. Once he parked the car in the garage, he turned to her unable, to stand the silence. “What happened?”
“Please, Aethan, not now.”
She got out of the vehicle and headed for the door that led to the basement.
His temper, already on a thin leash after that encounter with A’Damiel, fired up. He went after her. “Don’t brush me aside, Echo.”
Echo raised anguished eyes to him. “I know you can’t understand my relationship with him. But he matters to me. I was angry with him for keeping me in the dark about who he was. But how can I hate the one person who cared enough to take me off the street and give me a chance for a different life? The only one who didn’t ask me for anything in return? It took a long time but he earned my affection, my trust.” She swallowed her sob. “Now he’s gone because of my harsh words, and I don’t know if I will ever see him again.”
; Her pain hit him hard. He hated to see her so torn apart.
“Do you still want him in your life?” he asked, despising the words.
She stared at him, her mismatched eyes dark with unhappiness. “Will you accept him as someone I care about?”
No. “Yes.”
She blinked at his answer.
Aethan couldn’t blame her for her suspicion. Hell, he couldn’t believe it himself but, for her, he’d do anything. She came over and pressed her damp face against his chest. Her tears, like the scent of rain, enveloped him. Yes, he would chain the bastard to their side if it made her happy.
***
A’Damiel opened a portal to the Dark Realm and went straight to the lower levels. Once in the strata of Hell, he headed for Andras’s chamber.
The upper levels where the Otium demons resided were far better than this shithole. The dank walls of the passageway gleamed wet as the coppery scent of blood hit him. Screams of the damned echoed through the tunnel lit only by veins of amber flickering behind the rocky walls.
He moved swiftly through the cravens until he reached a black granite wall. He flicked his hand and the door to Andras’s chamber opened. It wasn’t the ruined furniture or the sheer evilness that resided in this place that had him clenching his jaw, but the fact that Andras dared to take on the role of the Sins. He punished the so-called damned souls in his abode. In that bloody Wall Of Screams.
The chamber was silent, empty, except for the cries coming from The Black Wall. He stared at the thing in disgust.
‘Admiring the decor?’ Belphegore waddled to his side still in his animal form.
The demon had made a good protector for Echo, by taking on her pet’s shape, when A’Damiel had had to leave the mortal realm on business.
“Just say the word and you can be Bob,” A’Damiel said.
Quick as a wink, Bel shook free of his fat, gray feline shape. The young demon straightened and raked back tousled, steel-colored hair from his face.
A’Damiel ignored the wall. He sent his senses out, scanning behind the chamber for the fucker he came for.
“Doubtful it’s him,” Bel said. “Place looks deserted. So are you going to release these souls?’
“Why? They chose their path. Not my business. But Andras is.” After all, he’d bound the shithead to this place.
A’Damiel’s heightened hearing picked up a reedy moan. Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the wall on his left. A wave of his hand and the marble slid open to reveal an inner chamber, so dark he couldn’t see a bloody thing. But in seconds his eyes adjusted to the blackness all around him. He found a table with papers strewn on it and there, in the far corner, he saw a figure cowering.
Female. The ripped tunic she had on barely covered her thin body. Blood trailed down her cheek from a deep laceration, and more slashes crisscrossed her arms and chest. She scooted away as he came closer. She appeared to be around sixteen. The scent of fear thickened the dank air and skyrocketed when he crouched in front of her. A’Damiel pushed aside her greasy hair, surprised to see her neck untouched. Just as well because he wasn’t in a mood to clean up Andras’s mess. This female would have turned into one of his minions.
But looking at her took him back to when he first found Echo in that basement. She’s been so young, traumatized, and almost in a catatonic state. He pushed away images of a charge who no longer belonged to him. “Let’s go,” he told the girl.
Wary eyes looked out at him from between chunks of dirty brown hair as he rose to his feet. “I can’t leave. He’s put a spell over the doorway. It hurts when I try.”
A’Damiel walked back into the main chamber, his gaze flat. “You can either attempt this again or stay here.” He turned to leave.
“Wait.” The girl lurched to her feet, stumbled, and grabbed the table to steady herself. She scooped up the papers on it, clutching them to her chest, before shuffling to the door. Then she just stood there, dread in her pale eyes.
A’Damiel reached out, grabbed her skinny arm, and hauled her out, ignoring her screech of panic. The instant she passed through the opening, her fear abated.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
A’Damiel didn’t respond. He opened a portal and sent her off to the mortal realm. Once the gateway closed, he headed out of Andras’s hole of depravity, Belphegore trailing behind him.
“Report on what happened while I was away,” A’Damiel ordered, heading toward Greed’s dwelling.
“What can I say? I miss sleeping on Echo’s bed, since she’s moved to the castle.”
A’Damiel stopped and glared at him.
“Just saying,” Bel said, grinning.
“If Echo ever told me otherwise, I would have to kill you. Where’s Bob?”
“I sent him back in all his pudgy glory since I can’t enter the island. Anyway, I did a little snooping when I got back after Echo got hurt in the subway.” Bel stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “Where were you anyway?” he asked. “I tried to get a hold of y—”
“I had business to take care of,” A’Damiel said, cutting him off. His hands fisted, easing the pain in his palms. No one could ignore a summons from one of the Ancients. Least of all, him.
Bel nodded. “Lazaar acted on his brother’s behest. What is wrong with that stupid fuck? Andras is bound and a damn demonii. Why would Lazaar risk the wrath of the Ancients?”
A’Damiel hadn’t liked it at all when he was ordered by the Ancients not to kill Andras, but to bind him. The bastard was up to something. “What else did you find out?”
Bel shrugged. “Not much. Lazaar ran off when that warrior of Echo’s flashed into the subway. She got hurt and the oracle patched her up. But her mate refused to leave her behind with Lila. That’s about it.”
“About that mate thing. Why didn’t you warn me?”
“You said keep her safe when you weren’t around, not tell you who she fell in love with.”
A’Damiel stared at Bel. The sound of crinkling drew his attention. He glanced down and saw a paper sticking out his coat pocket. He pulled it out and stared in surprise. Then he realized the girl had to have slipped it in his pocket before she left. Her stealth surprised him. He opened the scroll and scanned the contents.
Shit! So not what he wanted to do, but the blue-haired bastard had to know about this.
CHAPTER 26
Dawn cast a gray light in the room when Echo awoke. Her head ached a little and her eyes still burned from the tears she’d shed last night.
Expecting to be alone in bed, she turned and found Aethan asleep beside her. He’d gone out on patrol after they’d arrived last night. She let her gaze drift over him, enjoying the moment because she rarely got a chance to see him unguarded and vulnerable.
The navy sheet pooled low around his waist, revealing miles of tawny-gold skin. His chest rose gently with each breath he took, his lashes rested like dark arcs against his skin, and his sensual mouth relaxed in sleep.
She played with his hair. The strands, a striking blend of different shades of blues and black, slid like a silken waterfall between her fingers.
His heavy arm reached out, looped around her waist, and brought her closer to him. The feel of his hard, warm body against hers, his erection pressing on her thigh, and just like that, desire awoke.
Unable to help herself, she leaned in and brushed her lips across his.
His gray eyes flickered open, filled with warmth, desire. His mouth captured hers in a hot kiss. His hand skated down her body to caress the curve of her hip. He pushed her on her back and deepened the kiss. Sliding his hand under her nightshirt, he cupped her naked breast, squeezing gently.
He shifted and settled between her thighs. Pushing her nightshirt up, he trailed kisses down to her stomach. His lips glided around her navel, to the edges of her cotton panties, over them, and down to the center of her damp core. He pressed down with his tongue.
Echo grabbed his hair and hung on as sensations consumed her like a tidal wave.
Too late. He yanked her panties down her legs and tossed them aside. His mouth came down on her. Echo gasped, forgot what she wanted to say as he drew her passion right to the edge, keeping her there with his relentless torment. Driving her wild with his touch, he made her sob for release. Her hands fluttered over him, pushing at him, then tugged on his hair as desire built to a fever pitch and she fell, her orgasm gripping his finger.
While shudders still racked her body, he came back up, kissed her gently and then lay beside her. Tears tightened her throat. The emptiness filling her chest made her stomach pitch.
Is this how it would always be? Fill the needs of her body but not her heart? Pleasure her and watch her fall while he stayed apart from her. Every sensation she’d come to associate with him, the sparks that heated her blood, the tingles that normally raced through her, were missing. Almost like someone else had made love to her.
She rolled over, away from him, and faced the window. Her skin burned in humiliation as icy numbness filled her chest.
The mattress shifted. “Echo—”
“Don’t.” She slid off the bed and hurried to the bathroom, aware his gaze tracked her. And prayed he wouldn’t follow.
He didn’t.
Standing under the cascading water in her nightshirt while steam fogged the shower, she blocked out everything but the gaping hole in her chest. When she found she could breathe again, she shut off the water, pulled off her soaking nightshirt, and wrapped a bath towel around her, then hesitated.
No use hiding. She stiffened her shoulders, opened the door, and stepped into an empty bedroom. Unbearable pain took hold of her. No. She wouldn’t fall apart, she wouldn’t—but tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t stay with Aethan, be in a relationship that had no future. No hope.
***
The day at work passed far too quickly for her. Jimar hadn’t been happy about her sudden resignation. He’d insisted on a two-week notice period. She just wanted to get it over with and, with misery eating at her, she’d agreed.
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