by Lizzy Ford
Darian stood obediently, and Damian’s throat tightened again to know his brother was at his side.
Sofia watched the last of the blood swirl down the drain. She leaned her head against the shower wall, exhausted. Damian’s heavy ring hung off a chain around her neck, and she clenched it.
“You ok?” Traci called, voice muffled by the door.
“Yeah.”
She turned off the shower and dried herself. Traci sat on an unmade bed belonging to one of the Tucson Sector members.
“Pierre, can I get some privacy?” she asked.
“Nope,” he said from his position on a chair inside the door. “You’re both grounded.”
She returned to the bathroom to dress in clothing Linda had brought over.
“When will you know if the house is safe?”
“Soon,” was his vague response. “They have to finish their clean up.”
“Did they find Czerno?”
“They won’t. He goes poof and returns to one of his other bases, leaving everyone else to fry.”
She shivered.
“Did you really shoot her?” Traci asked.
“Not on purpose,” Pierre grated.
“That’s kind of an extreme form of revenge for asking you about croissants.”
Pierre mumbled a few curses. She wiped the fog away from the mirror. Her bruises were gone, and her two-toned eyes were calmer than they’d been. For the first time since entering this world, she felt at peace.
“Pierre, I want to go home!” she complained.
“Ok.”
She poked her head out of the bathroom. He lowered his phone.
“Really?”
“All clear. You are coming with us, mademoiselle,” he said to Traci.
She sprung up and snatched her purse. He grimaced and rose more slowly. Sofia slipped on oversized flip flops Traci dug out of one of the closets. Pierre’s phone dinged, and he opened it again.
“There’s a few missions, but they said the house is clear,” he said. “Linda is there. Looks like we’ll have to evac and rebuild the Tucson Sector. Czerno knows where all our safehouses are.”
Grande and Lon awaited them in the living room, and they rose as they approached. Two armored Tahoes sat out front. Pierre drove the women while the other two followed.
“If I weren’t so scared, this would be neat,” Traci whispered to her. “Armored cars, bodyguards … like we’re famous or something.”
“It is kinda neat,” Sofia agreed. “Until your bodyguard shoots you.”
“If you keep mentioning it, it won’t be an accident next time,” he retorted, shooting her a look in the rearview mirror.
She smiled, and Traci covered her mouth to keep him from hearing her laugh.
“Pierre.”
He glanced at her.
“Thank you for taking care of me. You’re a good man.”
“You’re welcome.”
Though still arch, his tone had softened enough to show her he wasn’t unaffected by her genuine words.
The mansion hummed with activity, from the gardens that served as a helopad to the teeming barracks and guardians pacing the halIs. She was reminded of a scene from a movie, where an army mobilized for war.
“Linda’s asleep already. Go on up and rest. We’ve got to start moving everything within 24 hours,” Lon told them, slinging a machine gun over his shoulder.
“Traci,” Rainy called, holding out his hand.
She went to him, eyes wide at the activity. In the midst of the activity in the mansion, Sofia saw Dustin. He settled one of his cool looks on her and tossed his head towards the stairs. He didn’t look to be in a mood for questions, so she hurried past him to her room, Pierre trailing. She closed the door, surprised at how quiet her room was.
She was about to lie down when she sensed him walk by. Her heart soared, and she touched the ring at her neck. She hesitated, sensing he would be angrier with her than Jule or Dustin had been. Or both combined. Steeling herself, she passed Pierre at her door and knocked on Damian’s door.
Not in the mood, Sofia.
She opened the door, heart pounding. He was framed against the balcony once again, and she leaned against the door before venturing forward. Despite the cool fear spiraling through her, she couldn’t help but feel thrilled at the sight of him after she thought she’d lost him.
“If you ever, ever, do anything like that again … “
He didn’t have to finish the threat. His tone was enough to tell her he’d show no mercy. He was too angry to face her, and she was glad of it. She hugged herself, wanting to throw her arms around him but knowing he was in as an approachable of a mood as Dustin.
“I brought this back,” she said and pulled off the chain, placing the ring on the table nearest the door.
“I wanted to apologize to you, Damian,” she continued. “When I was in that room …”
His grip on the railing tightened, and she stopped, afraid of pushing him through the brittle façade containing his emotions. After a thick moment of silence, she forced herself to continue.
“I swore to myself I’d do this,” she said. “Damian, I love you. If you don’t hate me for what I did, if you still … want me … I’m yours.”
He said nothing, didn’t move. A knock sounded at his door. She took the opportunity to escape, darting by Dustin to her room.
She’d said her piece. She didn’t know if she’d hurt him enough to drive him away forever or if there was a sliver of him that still wanted her. Tortured by the thought she might have waited too long, she paced her room until too tired to stand.
Just when he’d thought Sofia couldn’t surprise him more, she did. The insanity of what she did was beyond his comprehension. While he loved the thought of her commitment to him, her action made him want to explode. And then to waltz in and deliver such an important message at a time when he wanted nothing more than to remain infuriated with her for her actions.
“Fucking women,” he muttered.
“That fucking woman saved your brother’s life,” Dusty reminded him.
He’d not yet reconciled how he felt about seeing his brother alive and in so much pain. He was more and more appalled by the memories afflicting his brother, what he’d gone through since his supposed death. Darian was showing more signs of life. He’d spent the morning vomiting blood and was able to remember Jule and Dusty by afternoon.
And kiri. He knew Sofia better than he knew Damian. Damian closed his eyes in pain, unable to shake his brother’s black history.
“Though if I were you, I’d still be super pissed at her.”
“I am,” he assured him.
Dusty’s gaze grew intent.
“Damian, I’m sorry. We should have prevented her from leaving. I never thought she’d do something like that,” he said quietly.
“I don’t hold you responsible,” Damian said with a smile. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about humans, it’s that you can’t control them.”
“It is my responsibility. She’s your mate and my sister. I swear it’ll never happen again. The oath I took to you and Jule I now take to her.”
Damian was touched. He saw Dusty’s conviction on his face.
“Thank you, Dusty,” he replied in a hushed tone. “I doubt she’ll appreciate it though. The first time she forgets your birthday, all hell will break loose.”
Dusty shook his head.
“I am grateful to you, Dusty,” Damian replied more seriously. “It’s been a rough few days.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Good. Easier for me than Darian to readjust.”
“How is he?”
He’s lost in his mind right now. He’ll have to work through it.”
“I don’t suppose there are any shrinks among the Naturals.”
“Don’t think so. Sofia can work with him some. I don’t know how she reached him inside that dark maze,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Neither do I.”
“What a sick bastard. If I could kill Czerno … “ Damian swore darkly. How sick was the man who kept his former enemy as a slave?
“Fuck, D, I’d take killing Claire over Czerno any day,” Jule said, appearing near the door. “Czerno’s job is to be a bad guy. Claire was the worst kind of traitor imaginable.”
“Good point,” Damian said. “I was able to take care of that issue, though. I can’t touch Czerno.”
“I love Sofia, but I hope you take a switch to her ass,” Jule advised as he tossed himself into one of the chairs.
“I told him it was your fault,” Dusty said.
“It was,” Jule agreed. “And I’m deeply sorry for it, Damian. On what soul I have, I swear never to allow harm to come to kiri.”
Damian chuckled.
“It wasn’t either of your faults. I think this was a small thing they call fate,” he assured them. “And thank you both.”
“We still good for tomorrow?” Jule asked, referencing their journey to Europe.
“Yep. Dusty and Darian will be babysitting my oracle.”
“I’ll keep her in line,” Dusty assured him.
“I’m too angry at her to pity her,” Jule said. “You gonna try to rein in Pierre, too?”
“If only. The day kiri grows tired of him, he’s going to my behavior modification training,” Dusty assured him.
“Only if kiri agrees,” Damian warned.
“Is this how you train ‘em in the eastern hemisphere?” Dusty demanded, turning to Jule.
“Better a benevolent team player than a dictator,” Jule retorted.
“Disciplinarian. I don’t let them run amok and follow their feelings. I give them structure.”
“Like robots.”
Their long standing feud over leadership styles was interrupted as Darian appeared in the midst of them. Damian’s throat tightened, and his eyes misted at the sight of his brother. Darian appeared confused as he took in Jule and Dusty, recognition blooming slowly. He turned to Damian, his scarred features the most beautiful sight Damian had ever seen.
“Ikir,” he said, nodding his head in deferment. “May I see kiri?”
“You don’t need permission to do anything,” Damian said gently, aware his brother was not yet himself. “Please don’t call me ikir. I’m your brother, not your master. And yes, go see kiri. She’ll be happy to see you.”
“I will be happy to see her, ikir,” Darian said. He adored Sofia, that much was obvious, even if he wasn’t really sure where – or who – he was most of the time. Damian’s feelings for her swelled even more.
“How are you, Darian?” Jule asked with a warm smile.
“I am well, ikir,” came the mechanical reply. “Please excuse me, ikir.”
And he was gone. Damian’s gaze lingered. He had a long way to go, but he was alive.
“Take care of both of them, Dusty,” he murmured.
“I swear it.”
“He’s as strong as you. He’ll pull through,” Jule said. “And Dust-man won’t let anything near them.”
* * *
Visions of Czerno and home videos from Darian morphed into a grotesque nightmare that made her body shake, even as she tried to shake the dream from her thoughts. Insomnia was a blessing from such darkness.
Come.
She hesitated before pulling her robe on and obeying. The mansion was quiet again, the signs of activity from earlier gone. Pierre glanced up from his video game as she passed him. He watched her until verifying where she went before returning to the game.
Damian’s suite was lit only by a blazing fire in the hearth, and the scent of Jule’s cigars hung in the air. She waited, gaze falling to Damian. He appeared calm and in control again, if not relaxed with the only three men he’d ever trusted. Her heart almost burst at the sight of Darian in one of the seats. Though he was still unable to understand exactly what was going on, he’d improved dramatically even since she last saw him.
Damian waved her in without looking at him, his eyes reflecting the fire. He patted the seat beside him on the couch facing Dustin and Jule. She didn’t hesitate to settle beside him, knees drawn to her chest, and leaned into his body, struck by the difference between the men before her. At once, the home videos and nightmares faded. She sighed in relief and rested her head on Damian’s shoulder. He moved his arm to wrap around her and pulled her against him.
“You’re not forgiven,” he reminded her.
“Damn straight,” Jule said, though there was warmth in his face. “If I had a woman who pulled the bullshit you did, you’d -“
“Be in deep shit, kiri,” Darian finished for him.
Jule chuckled. Darian’s gaze mirrored Damian’s, and Sofia hid her face against Damian’s chest as the three men facing her gave her similar looks.
“I’ll never have a woman, if they’re this much trouble,” Dustin declared.
“Agreed. And if I do, she’ll learn to call Damian, Dusty, or Darian before leaving the house,” Jule chimed in. “Which is exactly what you will do, kiri.”
Sofia couldn’t help but saying,
“You’ll both have women, and Dustin, when you’re in trouble, she’ll call me.”
Jule and Dustin both looked to Damian.
“Not sure I like this oracle shit,” Dustin voiced for both of them.
“No way, kiri,” Jule said firmly.
“If she didn’t come after you when you needed her, why would you want her at all?” she challenged.
“Definitely steering clear of Americans,” Dustin added.
“Because, kiri, you can’t do what these men can,” Jule scolded. “And D doesn’t have any other brothers for you to rescue. You know that’s the only reason you’re not locked in your room for the rest of your life.”
“No worries,” Damian said with an edge that made her still. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Glad I’m not you,” Dustin said, leveling a look at her.
She huddled closer to Damian, unwilling to look at his face.
“What does kiri mean?” she asked.
“Beloved. It’s used for sisters, mothers, and mates in our world,” Jule answered. “By the way, you’re on my list. I hope I’m off yours.”
Her throat tightened, understanding the honor despite his nonchalant delivery. She nodded.
“What list?” Dustin asked.
“You’re not on hers,” Jule assured him. “I imagine only Pierre is on it now.”
She laughed.
“I sense a reassignment,” Dustin said, gaze going to the fire.
Her gaze fell to Darian. He was struggling again. She shifted away from Damian and touched his forehead, absorbing the horror of his memories. She drew a sharp breath but forced herself to stay, to take his pain.
“No, kiri, you’ve done enough,” he said, taking her hands. “I have much to atone for.”
His heavy words broke her heart, but she respected his request and returned to Damian’s side. The horrors from his mind fell away as she curled against him again.
The men fell into a comfortable silence, and she sensed the silent communications she couldn’t hear. Comfortable against Damian, she drifted into a restful doze until he shifted. She roused herself, surprised to see the other three had disappeared at some point. She sat up, forcing herself to meet his golden gaze. His face was unreadable, his gaze steady.
“Please don’t be angry,” she said, touching his face.
He took her hand in his and leaned forward, allowing his forehead to rest against hers. She sighed, delighting in the tender moment.
“Are you going to run from me again?” he asked without moving.
“No, Damian. Never again. I promise,” she swore just as quietly.
“Good.”
He stood and swept her into his arms.
“I’ve got plans for you tonight,” he said, desire flaring on his face as he carried her into his bedroom. “And every night from here on out.”
Her heart sang as she
realized she’d not lost him, her body echoing the desire on his face.
* * *
The next morning, the sigh of snow falling outside her window drew her gaze as she packed for the evacuation. Damian’d replaced her necklace at her neck, a small comfort until his work in the European front was finished. She approached the window, amazed at the snow, until her gaze fell to a figure kneeling like a dark gargoyle in the snow. He’d been there long enough that the snow had covered his footprints.
Alarmed, she swung on her robe and snatched one of Damian’s trench coats. She flew down the stairs and through the teeming hallways. Pierre trotted after her into the cold morning. The air was cold, brisk, the snowflakes falling faster. Snow crunched under her feet and quickly soaked her flimsy slippers.
“Darian!” she exclaimed, dropping to her knees beside him.
His eyes were closed, his body hunched and hands clenched together. He wore nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans. Snow covered his hair, and his skin was cold.
“Darian!” she touched his face.
He opened his eyes and stared at her, a tortured look on his face.
“I remember them,” he said. “All of them.”
His memories flashed, and she winced at the sight of the executions he’d committed for Czerno.
“That wasn’t you, Darian,” she whispered. “You had no control over yourself.”
“I’m weak.”
“You’re not. Damian was crippled by the same thing.”
She regretted alluding to it the moment the raw look of anguish crossed his face.
“Claire,” he said hoarsely.
He closed his eyes, his jaw clenched hard enough for the muscles to tick. A tear escaped one eye and trailed down his face. She felt her own tears spill over. His was not the kind of pain she could fix.
“You’re safe, Darian,” she said and draped the trench coat over his shoulders. She placed her hands on his face and pulled her into him, hugging him. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”
Dustin approached, his gaze as haunted as Darian’s. He knelt, ruffling the snow from Darian’s hair.
“It’s ok, brother,” he said quietly. “Let’s get you inside.”
He withdrew and helped Darian to his feet.