Courting Darkness

by Melynda Price

  If he thought, for even a second, there was a chance she would succumb to him, he’d take her into his arms right now and drive all thoughts of Liam from her mind and her heart. Without a doubt, it was that male she cried for.

  He wondered what she’d taste like without the accent of tequila and lime to flavor her kiss. Hungering to taste her lush mouth again, Haden’s thumb subconsciously brushed over the top of her hand in a feather-light caress. Her pulse leapt against his wrist, her responsiveness heating the blood surging through his veins, flooding south. With his free hand, he reached between his legs and readjusted the arousal straining against the confines of his too-snug jeans.

  He chuckled at her indignant gasp—a low throaty rumble that sounded more like a hungry growl. Giving into the impulse, he slid his thumb over the velvet-soft flesh of her wrist, tracing the primal pounding of her pulse. If this simple caress provoked such a swift reaction in him, he could only imagine what her willing touch would do to him.

  “Stop that,” she hissed, lashing out with her foot and solidly connecting with his shin.

  Her ire pleased him—more than it should. He knew Olivia feared him, and that she refused to cow, despite that fear, earned her a measure of respect he rarely afforded women—but then Olivia wasn’t just any other woman. And damn if he didn’t love a challenge.

  He really would be disappointed if he had to kill her. “You surprise me,” he teased, pushing the unwelcomed thought from his mind. “I didn’t realize you liked it so rough. Keep it up and you’re gonna turn me on.” It was a warning well past its expiration date.

  Another indignant gasp escaped her lush mouth. Then silence. “I hate you,” she seethed under her breath.

  Her confession, whether true or false, stung more than he cared to admit. “Go to sleep, Olivia, before I say fuck it and give you a real reason to say that to me.”

  Wisely, she kept her mouth shut, letting out an indignant huff as she attempted to roll away. Giving him her back, she only made it halfway to her side before she ran out of reach. Just to spite the feisty female and remind her who she was dealing with, he gripped her hand tighter and gave her a sharp tug. Damn… It’s going to be a long night.

  Chapter Ten

  Olivia couldn’t sleep. Her muscles were stiff and sore from lying in the same position most of the night. She was afraid to move for fear of waking Haden. Each time she’d tried turning, she’d been rewarded with an immediate tightening on her hand. Her fingers had long grown numb from lack of circulation and pride prevented her from turning toward him, even to ease the pain in her hand and the ache in her twisted shoulder.

  She had the urge to bury her elbow in the side of his ribs in retaliation, but thought better of provoking him. Her kick to the shin hadn’t exactly gotten the response she’d been hoping for. Slowly, she craned her neck to look behind her, careful not to disturb him. His eyes were closed, his right arm bent at the elbow, forearm propped behind his head as he rested peacefully against the pillow.

  The steady rise and fall of his chest confirmed he was deep in slumber. Unable to bear the pain of contortion another moment, she gingerly rolled onto her back, grimacing when the springs of the old mattress gave a soft creak. Olivia froze with bated breath, waiting for his eyes to fly open. She watched his chest for rhythmic breathing to confirm he still slept. Carefully, she completed her roll, sighing in relief to get the pressure off her shoulder, to bend her elbow.

  The ambient glow through the cracked curtains bathed Haden in a pre-dawn nimbus of ethereal beauty. For a moment, she studied the flawless quality of his masculine features—the sharp cut of his cheekbones, his patrician nose, and his square jaw bespoke of regal breeding. He’d called himself a half-breed, the derogatory growl of his voice having hinted at a degree of self-loathing. But to see him now, the only thing about him that was sub-par was his deplorable temperament.

  Of its own volition, her assessing gaze dropped lower, roving over the chiseled planes of his bare chest, down the rigid muscles of his abdomen to a small smattering of blond hair that disappeared beneath the blanket draped low across his waist. To see him like this, she became very aware of how truly dangerous Haden was, for this male looked like an angel, but no doubt was the devil in disguise.

  The corded muscles indenting at his hips drew her gaze lower. The thin blanket draping his hips did nothing to hide the outline of his evident arousal. Shocked to discover his current state of awareness, she suddenly realized the slow, rhythmic cadence of Haden’s slumbered breaths were now shallow, bated—uneven.

  With an inward groan, she slowly lifted her eyes, knowing what she’d find, but still hoping she was wrong. Another dragging gaze past his bare torso…

  Oh, please be asleep.

  Glancing higher, she met a pair of vibrant sea-green eyes that held no trace of sleep. His tawny brow cocked arrogantly as his top lip pulled up in a roguish grin. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to stare? If you were going to eye-fuck me, the least you could have done was ask. Now I just feel used and violated.”

  Heat flushed her face at his smug mockery. Was it possible to die of embarrassment? If yes, then Please, God, take me now…

  Olivia was speechless—horrified to be caught staring at his half-naked body. Of course he’d get the wrong idea. Of course he would take great pleasure in taunting her—vicious bastard. She’d just been curious, that’s all. It meant nothing, not that he’d ever believe her.

  Still, she denied adamantly, “I was doing no such thing!”

  “Then, pray tell, what were you doing?”

  “I was looking for a weapon, one I could plunge right into your black heart!”

  A sardonic chuckle rumbled in his chest she felt all the way to her bones. Letting go of her hand, Haden lifted both arms over his head to grip the arched metal bar of the bed frame. An act of submission she knew was anything but—a likely trap was what it was. The movement flexed his biceps, stretched his pecks, and the muscles rolled beneath his stomach like flesh-covered steel. She could feel the penetrating heat of his gaze as he watched her like a cat toying with a cornered mouse.

  “Then, by all means, search to your little heart’s content.”

  She wanted to look away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her stare, but damn if her eyes didn’t refuse to cooperate.

  “It’s only fair to warn you that once you breach those covers, you’ll definitely find me heavily armed, though not with the weapon you were no doubt hoping to find.”

  An arid gasp escaped her parted lips when words failed her. Indignant and humiliated, she turned to lunge out of bed. Haden caught her around the waist before she could get a foot on the floor. Hauling her back, he rolled her beneath him, pinning her against his heated sheets.

  “Let me go!” she demanded, thrashing about, trying to buck his heavy weight off of her—all the while his “weapon” ground threateningly near her inner thigh. It didn’t take long for the wry amusement in his eyes to darken into something much more sinister, and she knew a true moment of panic.

  He must have felt it too, because in that moment, clarity seemed to flash in his heavy-lidded gaze. With a snarled curse, he rolled to the side, letting her go. Olivia bolted off the bed and fled to the bathroom. Slamming the door behind her, she threw the lock and rode the wood down to the cold tile floor. Bracing her back against the flimsy panel, she bent her knees to support her elbows, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed.

  Where was Tate when she needed him? Didn’t he realize she hadn’t come home? Maybe he was still in court. Maybe she’d finally driven him away with her sharp tongue and her stubborn, rebellious behavior. She tried once again in fervent desperation to force her heart to accept him, but her soul cried out in protest, begging for Liam. Flooded with anger, whether justified or not, she mentally railed at her angel. Where are you? If you truly loved me, if the love we shared in that journal was one bit real, then you never would have allowed this to happen to me!


  Minutes passed, but could have been hours for as long as she sat there, her body racked with breath-hitching sobs. Olivia cried until her head grew light, her stuttering gasps refusing to let enough oxygen into her air-starved lungs. She wasn’t certain how, but she knew Haden was there even before the soft knock sounded on the door. When she didn’t respond, the door knob rattled beside her ear.

  “Olivia?”

  The deep timbre of his voice lacked the impatient inflection she knew to be his. If it had been anyone else on the other side of that door, she would have sworn she heard a note of regret. “Open the door, Olivia.” Although his words were no less commanding, his tone was concerned.

  When she didn’t comply, he exhaled a sigh that sounded a lot like defeat. The door reverberated against her back as his weight pressed against it. The rasp of cloth against wood scraped down the length of it as if, he too, had taken up a similar position as she.

  “You are not a female inclined to such emotional outbursts. Why are you crying, Olivia? In the past, I’ve done far worse to you than this, and never have you shed a tear.”

  Emotional outbursts? Was that what he thought this was? Was that supposed to make her feel better, or was this truly a pathetic attempt to understand why she was so upset. Could it be possible that he was so emotionally clueless, so war-hardened, that he couldn’t see how terrifying this was for her? Whatever the reason, he was sitting on the other side of this door and at the current moment, she had his ear and would be a fool not to take advantage of it.

  “I’m crying because you frighten me, Haden. I want to go home. And I want my memory back. I want Liam back.” It was risky to court his wrath by mentioning Liam’s name, but with Haden pushing his boundaries, and after this morning, she felt it prudent to remind him with whom her heart truly lies. Whether there be any attraction between them, real or imagined, she was in love with Liam and it was important he understand that. “You have no idea what it’s like to have your heart ache every day for someone that’s never coming back,” she confessed between broken sobs.

  “Know me so well, do you?”

  His response surprised her enough that he caught her full attention. “Don’t I?” she asked, all but challenging him to prove her wrong.

  In the silent seconds that passed between them, she hoped—no, she prayed—he’d give her a reason to believe in him, a glimmer of hope that he was anything but the sadistic, self-serving bastard he’d have her believe him to be.

  A dull thud and an exhaled sigh echoing on the other side of the door would be her only answer to the contrary. “Perhaps you’re right and I know nothing of loss.” His words were spoken so softly, she wasn’t certain they’d been meant for her ears. The scuffle against the door announced he was standing. With the returning edge in his voice, he announced, “You have twenty minutes to shower and see to your needs. After that, if you’re not out of there and ready to go, I’m coming in after you,” leaving her with zero doubt his threat was true.

  It was hard to measure time when day and night ceased to exist. If they thought they could change his heart, the High Court was wasting their time. They could leave him locked up here for a million years and his love for Olivia would not diminish. Some things were just unchanging—unfailing. He was created with the capacity to be wholly devoted, to love entirely, and two things warred for that space in his heart—his Creator and Olivia. Could he ever come to a point where the two could coexist, or would one forever be at odds with the other?

  Forever, Liam had lived an existence of black and white. He wasn’t sure he knew how to navigate a world of grays. Nothing was clear anymore—nothing simple. He was a Ronnin warrior, not a true Guardian, and those were two vastly different species created for entirely different purposes.

  Over the years, he’d served in the army of the High Court with valor. He’d nearly lost his life on the steps of this very building during the Great Fall—how ironic, that millennia later, this would be the same place he’d lose his heart. With his connection to Olivia severed, his soul knew no rest. Night and day he thought of her, worried for her, and second-guessed the many decisions he’d made. It nearly drove him mad.

  They couldn’t keep him locked up here forever. Eventually, they were going to have to set him free. And when they did…

  Liam paced his cell, the tips of his wings brushing the bars constructed of Immanuel’s Stone, a heavenly material indestructible and wholly lethal when used against the fallen. The repetitious rattle against the bars echoed down the hall. The clattering, chink, chink, chink was the only sound to break the monotony of silence.

  He sighed heavily. Uneasy, an odd sense of dread prickled at his instincts, leaving him restless, his mood more volatile than ever. Something was wrong. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Olivia was in danger, though he had nothing to base such a notion on. He thought of her constantly, so why now should this measure of unrest plague him so? If only he could see her one more time, know that she was well. Then perhaps, he could find peace with his decision to take her memory and finally endeavor to let her go.

  Would he ever stop loving her? Never. But Liam knew he had to get to a point where he could let her live out her life as it had been fore-planned. Tate was a good warrior, a great friend. Were he given the choice in naming a successor for Olivia’s guardianship, Tate could have been the one he chose. He bore no ill will toward the angel, and after weathering the initial storm of his rage over learning of her new guardian, he took comfort in the knowledge that she would be safe with Tate.

  Dragging a restless hand through his hair, he shoved it back from his face and resumed pacing. He’d just made another pass, roaming his cell like a caged lion, when the door down the hall opened and shut softly. No doubt, Balen had returned to check on him—again. He could do without his friend’s sympathy. If the angel really wanted to help, he could get him the hell out of here.

  Liam’s own pacing steps drowned out the approach of his guest. Sensing he was no longer alone, he spun around to tell Balen to piss off, but it wasn’t his friend who stood before him. He tensed as the sweeping gaze did a swift, thoroughly disappointed, head to toe assessment of him. Refusing to bend to that weighted stare, Liam approached the elder, steeling himself for the condemnation, the judgment that was sure to come.

  “I’m sorry we did this to you.”

  Liam’s unwavering gaze locked and held Saphat’s through the impenetrable bars. Unmoving, he returned the elder’s assessing stare, unapologetic and rigidly defiant. Right or wrong, he stood behind the decisions he’d made. What’s done was done—too late for second thoughts or second chances. Violating Olivia’s free will had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he’d done it to save her life and to spare her the pain of letting him go. He’d be damned if he’d admit regret now. If they intended to keep him here until he repented, then he’d stay behind these bars forever.

  “I’m sorry I did this to you,” Saphat amended. “If anyone could have walked among the mortals and not fallen into temptation, it would have been you, Liam. I never should have sent you there.”

  Of all the things he expected Saphat to say, an apology had not been among them. “You give me too much credit,” he told the elder, finding himself wanting to ease his apparent guilt. It was difficult to hold the elder’s regretful stare, and he broke away to resume pacing.

  “No. I don’t think we gave you enough credit. I don’t think the other elders realize the compromising position we placed you in. You should know the decision to take Olivia from you…wasn’t made lightly—or wholly agreed upon. We realize she’d be dead, were it not for your actions, your sacrifice—”

  With the speed of a striking serpent, Liam stopped pacing and spun on the elder. Gripping the cage of his cell, he shook the door, rattling the unbreakable stone. “Then for the love of the Father, let me out!”

  Saphat took a startled step back and then quickly regained his dignified pose, uncomfortably clearing his throat. “That’s partl
y why I’m here. Liam, we have been unsuccessful in locating the Nephilim you reported.”

  “I’m not surprised. He’s kept his existence a secret this long. He can blend in with the humans. You’ll not find him unless he wants you to.” Liam gave the elder a sardonic chuckle. “You didn’t think he was going to make this easy, did you? But in all honesty, I fail to see how any of this concerns me now.”

  Something flashed in Saphat’s eyes that fueled the dread burning in Liam’s gut, and he knew, at that moment, the unease gnawing at him all day was not unfounded.

  “Liam, Olivia is missing.”

  “What?” The barked demand echoed throughout the antechamber. “What do you mean ‘missing’? Are you telling me Tate lost her? How in the hell do you lose the human you’re bonded to?”

  “That’s the problem. He’s not bonded to her. We didn’t know the connection was not made. He can’t feel her emotions. Somehow, she’s managed to block him.”

  “Well, I sure as hell can’t feel her anymore!”

  His irreverent tongue brought a scowl of displeasure to the elder.

  “How long have you known about this?”

  “We didn’t discover the bonding was unsuccessful until he petitioned the court for full revocation of her free will.”

  “Absolutely not. You can’t do that to her!” Violating her free will was bad enough, but revoking it was another matter completely.

  Saphat held up his hand, staying Liam’s argument. “His motion was denied. There are lines we will not cross, even if the result is death. However, there remains the issue of bonding, and when Tate returned last night to attempt, once again, to persuade her into accepting his guardianship, she was gone. Her car was found at the state park.”

  “Restore my bond to her.”

  “I cannot. Once the bond has been severed, it can’t be undone. We are concerned the Nephilim might have taken the mortal—”