No use worrying about what couldn’t be changed. With his mind, he grasped all the figures inside the dwelling and held them still. “We’re clear,” he said, striding toward the building. “Let’s get the fuckers—shit, it’s warded.”
“I’ve got this.” Hedori stepped past him, studying the doorway. As he set about unscrambling the wards, he said, “These feel dark…deadly.”
Good thing he’d come with them then. The minutes rushed past, too much time wasted. Dagan’s telekinetic ability was starting to waver. “How much longer?” he grunted.
“Almost there…” Hedori mumbled, his hands weaving furiously, unscrambling the spell. “And… Done.”
Aethan kicked open the door, revealing the demons floating above them in the dimly lit room. He cut Dagan a quick look and shook his head.
Hedori disappeared through a door at the far back. A faint cry sounded. Dagan moved with preternatural speed, still holding the bastards with his mind. At the sight of the female clad in a thin, underwear-like dress, her one ankle shackled with a steel cuff and chained to the bedframe, anger scored his gut like acid at the fuck who’d done this to a helpless human female. The stringent odor of pain, despair, and sex thickened the sulfuric air.
“No,” a terrified moan escaped her. She yanked at her manacle.
Damn. They probably looked scarier than the evil asshole who’d trapped her here. Not much they could do about that.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Hedori said, his tone soothing as he unchained her. “We’re here to save you.”
Her gray eyes stark with fear darted between them. The moment she was free, she scampered to the corner of the room and huddled there. Knees drawn up, her auburn hair limp, she watched them.
Not wanting to terrify her with his immense height, Dagan crouched, keeping a little distance between them, his forearms resting on his thighs. “Don’t you want to see your daughter?”
She lifted her gaze. Those eyes, so much like his mate’s, brimmed with tears and tugged at his soul.
“Shae?” she whispered.
“She awaits you. She never stopped searching after you vanished,” he said quietly.
“Who—who are you?” Her voice held a raucous edge as if she hadn’t used it much.
“I’m Dagan, a Guardian of Earth. Shae’s my… She’s under my protection,” he said instead.
She didn’t move, her wary gaze fixed on them. “You…you’re one of them. He said you’re all wicked…amoral, and corrupt…you plan to ruin our world.”
“Who?”
She blinked, and a dazed expression stole over her face. She rubbed her brow. “I don’t know.”
Dagan wasn’t surprised. The bastard had probably used mind control with trigger words in place.
Hedori grabbed the thin sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her, but she shied away. “No.” She pointed to something behind Dagan. “Coat.”
Frowning, he glanced back at the wall, then rose and headed across. He ran his palms over the rugged surface. A click sounded, and it slid open. Clothes filled what appeared to be a closet. A familiar fruity scent…with a hint of spice. A rush of rage brushed his senses.
Oh. Shit! His gut constricting at his discovery, Dagan touched a black coat—and night flickered in his mind as a vision emerged, revealing a dark alley.
“Don’t—don’t do it…” the Fallen pleaded as he rose in the air.
“Go on, Jenna, you know what I want,” a male voice said. “And what I’ll do to your precious Shae if you do not.”
Ah, hell. Dagan shut off his ability. He didn’t need any more evidence. He’d seen this all before.
He glanced back at the cowering woman as he moved his hands over the clothing. She shook her head until he found what appeared to be an older, dark blue coat, and she nodded. He let his senses flow over the fabric… No, this didn’t have rage attached to it. It was hers. He gave the garment to Hedori and headed back into the other room, his mind churning like a geyser about to explode.
“You dare come in here and steal our Lord Samael’s property? He will kill you,” one of them snarled. Fury pinging like spears inside him, Dagan grabbed a fallen sword and sliced the scourge’s head off.
Seconds later, Hedori appeared with the female cradled to his chest and strode outside.
“Let’s deal with these assholes.”
Dagan barely heard Aethan. With a flash of his mind, he removed all their weapons and let the daggers slice brutally across their jugulars. Blood sprayed like a waterfall, drenching them. Heads rolled, and the demons fell. Aethan cocked a brow at him. “You’re one terrifying bastard.”
Dagan grunted, watching the disintegrating corpses. “Am I? I’ve seen you.”
A wry bark of laughter left Aethan. “My scariness is known by all. But witnessing yours? Man, it sure is something to behold.”
“True.” The warrior nodded. “I guess having mates changes our perspective on life. Everything is about them, isn’t it? Why we hone our abilities whenever we can, so they’re safe.”
He didn’t respond to the truth of Aethan’s words. Because one thing he knew, no matter the rough road ahead of them, he’d do anything to protect Shae. “I’d lay down my life for her. She probably doesn’t need me to keep her safe, but I’ll do it anyway.”
But with the damn dark cloud of his need for stronger blood hanging between them, the outlook wasn’t promising. At all.
“Shit!” Dagan cursed as what the demon had said clicked. “Samael! He’s not Fallen, he’s rogue.”
Aethan frowned. “Why the hell would he want Jenna? He still has his own abilities.”
“Who knows with these fuckers? It’s probably not to draw Michael’s attention. What better way than to use a psi to get what he wanted done.”
“We’re in for one helluva shit-show now,” Aethan muttered. “Let’s get outta here and destroy the damn place. Maybe we’ll get lucky, Samael will show his face sooner and we can end the scourge.”
Dagan headed outside, the odor of sulfur burning his gut. “There’s something else. Jenna is whom I’ve been tracking these past months. She’s the psychic killer. The scent, the images I picked up from her clothes, everything matches.”
Aethan’s eerie, gray eyes took on hints of his whitefire power and shifted to Dagan. “Sorry, man. That sure sucks.”
Yes. Shae would be devastated to learn the truth. A death sentence now hung over her mother.
As he stepped through the shimmering portal, Aethan’s deadly power streamed out of him like a wave of lightning and consumed the building, turning everything to ash.
Night shrouded the castle as Dagan took form on the portico. He gratefully breathed in the fresh air, expelling the acrid stench of sulfur from his lungs. It took a little while to get his equilibrium back and the burning sensation on his skin to ease.
He pressed a hand to the throbbing wound on his side and grimaced as hunger clawed at him.
First, he had to see Shae. They hadn’t parted on a good note. He scanned and found her in the gym, so he made his way to the basement.
He entered, half expecting a bottle of water to come flying at his head. Instead, Shae pounded the treadmill in a hard run, wearing knee-length black tights. Sweat dripped off her face and chest, dampening her dark-green tank. She looked incredibly delicious. By the stars, he’d missed her.
She looked up and stopped the machine. Gray-gold eyes stark with worry. “You were gone so long. Almost twenty-four hours! And it’s night again.”
He crossed to her. “I’m sorry, I forgot that time moves differently in the Dark Realm. We were gone three hours at most for us. We have her.”
She faltered on the slowing belt. “Mom’s here?”
He nodded, helping her down. Reaching out, he released a coppery strand of hair stuck to her damp face. “She wasn’t in the Bronx. They used the warehouse there as a front to open a portal into the Dark Realm.”
“What?” Shock leeched the flush running
had installed in her cheeks, leaving her ashen. “Who would do such a thing?”
“A rogue angel named Samael.”
Her mouth opened then shut.
How the hell did he tell her that the mother she’d just gotten back was the killer he’d been tracking for months. That she could die? No need to add to the shitload of pain that was about to come crashing down on her. At least he could let her have this time with her mother. “C’mon.”
She grabbed her hoodie from the bench press and followed. On the ground floor, when she would have headed for the stairs going up, he turned her toward the short hallway leading to Hedori’s quarters. “She’s there, in the guest room.” He grasped her hand before she could leave. “Shae, your mother doesn’t remember things from before or what happened to her. Except for you.”
Her eyes swam with unshed tears. “They took away her memories?”
“Yes. We will find him,” he said quietly. “He will pay for what he did.”
Her delicate jaw firm, she nodded then sprinted to the doorway and grabbed the doorjamb as if needing the support. Dagan followed.
“Mom,” she whispered and darted inside to where her mother sat on a couch, still wrapped in the blue coat.
He waited at the entrance as Shae dropped to her knees and put her arms around Jenna’s waist. Her tears fell like rain.
His chest tightened, her anguish squeezing his lungs like a damn vise. For all the pain she’d suffered, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on the bastard Samael.
He telepathed Michael, Found Jenna. Samael had her. She’s too traumatized. Memories blocked.
I’m not surprised. All right. Let her rest for now. I’ll be there tomorrow.
Until Michael met Jenna and gave the go-ahead, Dagan couldn’t tell Shae anything. And that wasn’t something he looked forward to, revealing the truth about her mother.
Shae bolted awake. Sunlight streamed into the room. Darn, she hadn’t meant to sleep so late. But with all that had occurred and Dagan finding her mother, exhaustion had her crashing in the early hours of the morning. Dagan must have put her to bed, but he wasn’t around.
Shae hurried through her shower, changed, and was pulling on a tawny sweater when she realized she wasn’t alone. She looked up and found Dagan at entrance, wearing sweats and a t-shirt.
“You should have woken me up. It’s so late.”
“You needed the rest.”
She got out her boots from the closet. “Thank you,” she whispered, her fingers tightening on the leather. “For finding my mother and bringing her back.”
His gaze burned with a dark, intense emotion. “You should know by now, Shae, I’d do anything for you.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “She’s so frail, Dagan, and her mind is so fragile. It terrifies me that she’ll never recover.”
“We’ll be here for her,” he said quietly. “We just have to be patient, it will take time.”
Yes, she realized that. Her gaze lowered to her boots. And as she put them on, something about him, his manner troubled her. Normally, he would be holding her, comforting her—heck, Dagan always liked touching her. It seemed as if he wanted the distance. She said, “You were up early.”
“I had…things on my mind.”
Frowning, she looked up. But when she met his brooding stare, uneasiness knotted her stomach. Something was definitely up—something dire. Her mind rushed through what happened the last time they were together…oh crap! Club Anarchy. Luka!
Deciding it was safer not to ask, maybe—hopefully—she was overreacting, she straightened from zipping her boots and ran her hands down her brown tartan skirt, smoothing the pleats.
Inhaling deeply, she made her way to him, and with him watching her, she felt like a convict on his last mile. His hand lowered to her waist as they walked out into the bedroom. “Nice outfit.”
Huh? Cautiously, she eyed him. “Er, thanks.”
The butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly, she reached for the door, he stopped her. He pushed her damp hair away from her face and trailed open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Ohhh. Her breath hitched as if his mouth had a direct line to her core. He slipped his hand under her short skirt, and her eyes widened as he hooked his fingers into her underwear.
She grabbed his thick wrist. “We can’t, I have to go see my mother.”
“We aren’t. In a moment, you will,” he said, tone unemotional. Her panties still slid down her legs even though she still grasped his wrist. Oh, hell.
“Did you think I’d forgotten about what happened that night at Club Anarchy?” he asked pleasantly.
Shae bit back a curse. She had hoped he did. “Dagan, look, I didn’t know Luka—”
“You blatantly disregarded my warnings,” he cut her off, “and put yourself in danger when I distinctly told you not to waste time and get that demon out of there. His two blood-demons followed closely. Had anything waylaid me, you could have been in grave peril.”
Damn. “Nothing happened.”
“The bastard had his hand under your dress, he put his fucking mouth on you. I wouldn’t call that nothing.”
Ugh, he’d seen everything. But being bait, those things were bound to happen. However, she refrained from saying so. Considering his pissy mood, it could just end up worse for her. “So I’m to go around without underwear?”
“It’s so you’d think about how recklessly close you came to being harmed.” He held out his other hand, expression implacable. “Give them to me.”
Scowling, she stepped out of her fallen panties and thrust them at him. “I really hate that stupid ability of yours.”
The black silk in his hand, he shrugged.
Thoroughly infuriated with him, Shae pivoted for the door, pulling her long tawny sweater down to her hips. He put his palm on the wood, stopping her. The warm length of his body settled against hers. Her breath caught in her throat as his semi-erect sex pressed through his sweats against her bottom.
Dammit! She bit her lip, struggling to shut off her traitorous body’s reaction to him.
He lowered his head, his warm breath caressing her ear, a total contrast to his cool tone. “You need to understand that when it comes to you, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Break the rules, then there are reprisals, even if it means you aren’t happy with my methods. And don’t think of replacing your underwear with another pair, or I’ll spank that lovely ass of yours, and it won’t be fun.”
She glared at him over her shoulder instead. “Are you done?”
He cut her a droll stare then straightened and waited for her to leave the room before he followed and said casually, “I’ll return these later.” He pocketed her underwear.
How could she want him so much and still want to strangle him.
Chapter 21
The late morning sun did little to warm the icy air in the kitchen—more precisely, the one emitting off his mate.
Dagan set his empty mug on the table. A smile tugged his mouth as he watched Shae. He found he enjoyed being with her when she had her meals. Just because he didn’t eat, didn’t mean his mate had to take her repasts alone.
But the ire coming from her held all the threat of several swords about to pierce him in the heart. Nope, she wasn’t happy with him.
But she had to learn that she couldn’t put her life at risk like she’d done two nights ago by not following his orders. Anger and fear resurged when he remembered the demon, Luka, trapping her in the alley with his blood-demons close behind.
And the damn kiss. He’d almost blown everything apart and killed the bastard right there.
Her chair scraped back on the marble tiles. Shae rose, carrying her cereal bowl and glass to the sink. She rinsed her dishes then packed them in the dishwasher.
Dagan strolled over and left his mug in the sink. Before she stalked off, he grasped her hand. “I’ll be clearing my old workshop during the morning, then training with Blaéz later this afternoon if you need me.”
She already knew his schedule for the day, but he wanted to get a reaction out of her.
Aaand, did he get one.
“I don’t think I’ll be looking for you much today, thanks.”
With that caustic parting shot, she marched out, leaving behind a trail of frosty air.
Yeah, he’d asked for that, he thought wryly, rubbing his jaw…
A few minutes past two, Dagan headed for the massive training arena in the basement. As he jogged down, he grimaced, gingerly pressing his side. The wound still hurt like hell. With his healing abilities almost flatlining, he couldn’t afford to sustain any more injures. Michael would surely bench his ass for as long as the damn wound took to heal. But he needed to train and keep physically fit since he was draining psychically, too.
In the empty arena, he selected a sword. At a shimmer in the air, he spun and barely missed decapitation at the deadly obsidian blade winging past his head. Considering whom he partnered this afternoon, not paying attention was asking for trouble.
The Celt had a masochistic streak a mile wide and appeared to be in a mood—summoning that damn Gaian weapon without cause was like reaching into your body and pulling out a rib.
Blaéz grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Mating has made you soft.”
Dagan snorted and lunged at him. Blaéz countered with cold cunning deliberation, reminding Dagan of a time when the warrior hadn’t been in possession of his soul. Dagan didn’t let emotions crowd him either. Next on his to-do list: get rid of the Fallen after his mate, find the bastard who’d killed Shae’s father and if he got ahold of Samael along the way, he’d take pleasure in annihilating the scourge.
Soon, the fierce clashing of steel reverberated off the walls. Time passed, and still, they fought. Long, hard, and brutally…
“Blaéz?”
At the soft, feminine voice, he spun toward the door instead of blocking the strike. Dagan’s sword rammed him in the side. The Celt stumbled back, a curse flying free, but it didn’t stop him from striding to his mate.
Guardian Unraveled (Fallen Guardians 3) Page 24