“Why are we staying?” she whispered under her breath when he took the seat beside her and ordered a beer for himself and two Tequila shots for her. She typically wasn’t a drinker, but apparently he thought otherwise. She was grateful for the opportunity to forget what Haden had just done to her.
“If we leave without at least staying for the drink, it will look like we’re running. These bastards are predators, Olivia. They’ll attack at your slightest hint of fear.”
“Well, it’s a bit late for that. I’m terrified.”
He leaned a shade closer and sniffed. “The only thing I smell on you is me. Hopefully, your fear won’t break through my scent.”
The bartender handed them their drinks and Olivia snatched the first shot, anxious to have their drinks and get the hell out of here. She tipped it back in one swallow and pressed the lime to her lips. As Haden watched her, she noted a mixture of hunger and the faintest hint of humor in his gaze as she sucked the juices from the peel.
“What?” she snapped defensively, tossing the rind on the plate. “I’m trying to get the taste of you out of my mouth.”
“Does it make you feel better to pretend you didn’t enjoy it?”
She turned to look at him in utter disbelief. He shot her an arrogant smirk, revealing a glimpse of straight white teeth as he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long pull.
“You’re insane,” she murmured under her breath, taking the last shot and relishing the amber burn that seared away all remnants of Haden’s kiss.
“I saved your life—again.”
“It doesn’t count when it’s your fault I’m in danger in the first place,” she snapped. That they were still sitting here and had yet to be approached was a good sign that she might just make it out of here alive after all. She could feel the heated stares boring into her back, and was loath to admit that Haden’s little make-out stunt had indeed probably saved her life. Not that she would ever admit as much, or utter a thanks. There was no way in hell she would thank him for kissing her, and that he thought she actually enjoyed it was…humiliating. He’d told her to go along with it, that’s all she’d been doing.
That no one challenged him was a testament to his lethal strength. He exuded an arrogant confidence that, had she not known better, would swear he wanted to be here. He seemed right at home among these miscreants. The only thing that spoke contrary was the subtle tightening in his jaw and the faint lines of tension bracketing his mouth.
Not once did he look behind them to assess the danger. Aside from his occasional glance her way, his stare remained fixed straight ahead. She could feel her own anxiety climbing with each passing minute. Time seemed to stand still as she sat there battling a barrage of memories clamoring to break through the surface of her consciousness—the sights, the smells…all triggering an unpleasant onslaught of emotion.
As if Haden could sense her mounting unease, he reached out and took her hand. “Relax, Olivia.”
The coaching encouragement lacked his usual brisk bite, and although reluctant to take comfort from him, she was desperate enough to do just that. She tightened her grip on his hand and whispered, “Please just get me out of here.”
He gave her a subtle nod and drained his beer. Keeping his grip firm on her hand, he helped her off the stool. His touch was firm—possessive, leaving no question for anyone watching that she belonged to him, and he would kill for her. If Olivia didn’t know better, she’d wonder if he didn’t actually believe the lie himself, so convincing was his act.
To her relief, no one followed them out as they left the bar. It wasn’t until they reached the car that he finally let go of her hand and rounded the front of the car. As she touched the door handle, a dark shadow flashed in the corner of her eye. Before she could let out a cry for help, a large hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her scream. The burn of sulfur stung her nose, an exhale of rancid breath scaling her cheek.
The steel grip of an arm snaked around her waist and jerked her back, knocking the air from her lungs. Her head whiplashed back, connecting with her abductor’s collarbone. Stars spotted her vision as she desperately searched for Haden through a haze of blurred darkness. Each gasping breath was a struggle to draw oxygen past the fingers tightly clamped over her mouth and nose. Her struggles were no challenge for the creature dragging her into the darkness of the alley. A second before she disappeared into the shadows, her eyes finally locked on Haden.
It all happened in a blur. A vicious snarl tore from Haden’s throat as he leapt over the hood of the car, racing after her. He caught ahold of her wrist just as the shadows were about to consume her, and gave a hard yank, ripping her out of the demon’s grasp. Tearing pain seared up her arm, burning into her shoulder. She cried out as the momentum of Haden’s pull sent her stumbling into the dimly lit parking lot.
Haden dove for the demon, pile-driving into its chest. As they fell to the ground, the shadows engulfed him. The muffled sounds of fists hitting flesh and feral snarls erupted from the darkness, turning her blood cold with dread. She knew she should run, but her feet refused to obey the command. This was her chance, her chance at freedom. Yet there was some part of her that couldn’t leave Haden. She told herself she didn’t care for him. Why should she? He’d taken her against her will, and before this was all over, there was a very real possibility he was going to kill her. So why the hesitation to abandon him?
Run! she commanded her legs. Still, she could not move, other than to cover her mouth and smother the startled sob erupting from her throat as the very loud, very distinct crunch of bone rent the air. Bile surged up the back of her throat as a muffled grunt of pain quickly followed. Gurgling gasps of breath filled the still night air, and her heart temporarily stopped.
Haden!
Dizziness washed over her like a surging tide. Unable to bear her weight, Olivia’s knees buckled and she slid to the ground. Panic gripped her throat like an invisible hand, slowly choking the life out of her as she waited to see which monster would step from the shadows—the demon or her Nephilim.
The final death rattle rang out. A new wave of terror hit her as the shadows began to stir as if they were alive—swirling, gliding. The smoky darkness seemed to have a mind of its own as it stretched toward her.
Scrambling back, Olivia stumbled to her feet and ran for the car, praying Haden had left the keys inside. She rounded the driver’s door and jerked the handle. Nothing. A broken sob escaped her throat as she yanked it several more times.
“Nice. I save your life, and you’re just gonna get in the car and leave me here?”
Relief flooded her veins at the low rumbled growl of Haden’s voice. As he stepped from the shadows, Olivia raced toward him, throwing herself against his chest in a bone-crushing hug. Her momentum sent him stumbling back a step, his arms reflexively catching her around her waist as an exhaled grunt of pain rushed from his lungs. “Oh, thank God you’re not dead! I thought—” She let the confession die on her lips before she said something she’d regret in a moment of gratitude.
Haden stood there stiffly as she clung to him—statue-still, seemingly surprised and maybe even a little uncomfortable with the affection. She couldn’t resist drawing a deep breath, pulling his black licorice scent into her lungs and driving the demon’s acrid burn from her nostrils. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt,” she amended.
“Our motel is just across the street if you want to continue your gratuity over there.”
Aaaand just like that, he ruined it. Suddenly, she became acutely aware that her breasts were crushed against his chest. She held him so close she could feel his heart beating. The heat of his breath stirred the fine hairs at her temple, skating down her neck.
Liquid heat flooded her from head to toe. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She gasped indignantly and released him, stepping back to shoot him an offended glare. “I take it back. I’m not glad,” she snapped, turning away and marching back to the car. Haden’s taunting chuckle followed her eve
ry step of the way.
Chapter Twelve
Haden was favoring his shoulder. Olivia watched him in silence from the straight-backed chair in the corner of the motel room as he gingerly slid out of his shirt. He hadn’t spoken since she’d stormed away. Truthfully, his broody silence was more unnerving than his arrogant flirting.
She regretted throwing herself at him like she had. She shouldn’t have hugged him. It had been a mistake, a knee-jerk reaction to discovering she wasn’t going to die a horrible death at the hands of that God-awful demon. When he turned to the left and stepped into the light, Olivia knew the cause of Haden’s shoulder pain. Sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, she winced at the four gouging claw marks. Blood oozed in small rivulets down his back, over his tapered flank.
“Your shoulder… It’s bleeding,” she said, forgetting she was giving him the silent treatment. “Does it hurt?” The question tumbled out of her mouth before she could weigh the stupidity of it. Of course it hurt.
“It doesn’t feel good,” he grumbled, not giving her the courtesy of even a backward glance. Despite her ire, she felt responsible that he’d gotten hurt while saving her life.
Craning his head, he glanced over his shoulder, surveying the damage, and muttered a foul curse. Without considering the wisdom of her actions, she climbed out of the chair she’d claimed as her residence for the night, and walked into the bathroom. A moment later, she came out with the ice bucket half-filled with hot, soapy water.
“Sit down,” she instructed, nodding to the foot of the bed. Expecting an argument, it surprised her when he actually complied. He eyed her warily as she crossed the room and sat behind him, propping the container in the crook of her leg.
Olivia wrung out the soapy cloth and pressed it to Haden’s shoulder. He flinched from her grasp, his breath hissing through clenched teeth. Placing her hand on his right shoulder, she pulled him toward her. His muscles tightened beneath her fingers, but he didn’t resist as she expected him to. Gently, with the utmost care, she dragged the rag down his back, past his flank and lower, washing away the four crimson trails.
His muscles tensed beneath her touch, drawing ripcord tight. A pained groan rumbled deep in his chest.
“I’m sorry I’m hurting you,” she whispered, sincerely meaning it. She wanted to help him, to show him an ounce of compassion in hopes he’d one day pay it forward.
“You’re not hurting me,” he replied through clenched teeth that sounded like a pained growl to her.
Rinsing the rag, she began cleaning the cuts more thoroughly. The silence between them grew more uncomfortable the longer she touched him. She hastily worked to finish washing the debris from his wound and tried her best to ignore the crackle of tension sparking between them. “These cuts are pretty deep, Haden. Maybe you should go to the hospital and get them stitched up.”
“It’s fine. They’ll be healed by tomorrow.”
Deciding they were finished, he stood and took the bucket from the crook of her leg, carrying it into the bathroom. Exhaling a pent-up sigh, she stood to walk back to her chair. Haden returned before she could reach her spot. Passing him on the narrow path between the dresser and the bed, she was careful to keep her eyes averted from his half-naked body. It didn’t escape her notice how he wore his skin as comfortably as clothes. And for the second time in as many nights, his state of undress made her awkwardly uncomfortable.
Before she could clear his path, Haden caught her wrist and gently tugged her to stop. From the corner of her eye, she could see the normally severe angles of his handsome face seemed softer as he stood there watching her. Moving slowly, as if not to frighten her, he reached up and caught her chin on a curled finger, tipping her face to his.
He moved a step closer. She could smell that licorice scent, feel his body heat radiating into her. As if testing his boundaries, Haden’s thumb brushed lightly over her bottom lip, and she inhaled a shaky breath.
“You’re trembling.” His husky voice was a velvet-smooth caress that only made her tremors worse. “Do I truly frighten you so much?”
She wasn’t certain if it was fright or something much more traitorous that made her body quake beneath his touch. Were it the latter, she wasn’t about to confess to him something she didn’t even want to admit to herself. “Yes,” she whispered, her bottom lip brushing against his thumb as she spoke. “You scare me.”
Something crossed his hungry gaze, a spark of pain?—regret, perhaps? “I won’t hurt you, Olivia.” He breathed the vow a moment before he dipped his head, brushing his lips across hers in a feather-light caress. His touch was soft, so unexpected from the rough, demanding kisses he’d stolen before. It was almost as if he was asking her permission, courting her mouth to engage his, tempting her to betray her heart and give herself over to him.
But she could not. She could not give away something that wasn’t hers. Her heart belonged to Liam, and even if he never came back, if she never saw him again, she would still always be his.
She turned her head to the side, bringing his kiss to her cheek. “Haden, stop.” Her broken whisper failed to convince even herself. His mouth dropped to her neck and her protest caught in her throat. His lips quickly found the sensitive spot below her ear, his exhaled breath caressing the fine hairs at her nape.
When something stirred to life deep in her core, it startled her enough to force the words past her parted lips. “I can’t do this. Please…stop. I’m in love with Liam.”
He froze and then lifted his head just high enough to meet her pleading gaze. He slid his hand along the column of her throat, fingers wrapping around the back of her neck in a soft hold she couldn’t quite call a caress, yet was too gentle for a grip. When his thumb slid over her pounding artery, his top lip curled into what might have passed for a smile on anyone other than Haden.
“How can you claim to love someone you can’t even remember? Do you deny what you feel for me? Even as we speak, your pulse is clamoring, and it is not his touch that has awakened it.”
She couldn’t deny that Haden affected her—more than she wanted to admit. “I may not be able to remember him, but my heart does. When you touch me like this, when you kiss me, I’m stricken with guilt.”
“Guilt only proves you feel something for me.”
“Of course I feel something. It’s called fear,” she challenged, finding it easier to lie to him than admit the truth. She also knew if she didn’t stop this now, she might not have the strength to. Already he’d laid siege to her defenses and she was shameful to admit they were weakening. She didn’t relish the thought of hurting him, but could not live with herself if she ever betrayed Liam. In another time, another place, maybe she and Haden could have been more, but her heart belonged to her angel. “My pulse is racing because I can’t decide whether you’re going to kiss me or strangle me. Both of which you’ve done, by the way.”
As if she’d slapped him, his whole body tensed. His gaze narrowed, the angular line of his jaw hardened, tightening his lips into that thin line of displeasure he so easily wore. The pressure on the back of her neck increased as his fingers dug into her nape. She could feel his temper sparking, the walls he never let down slamming back up.
A spark of regret pierced her heart, guilt twisting her gut as she dealt him the final blow. “Don’t mistake my compassion for friendship, Haden. You saved my life tonight and for that I thank you. But do not think I’ve forgotten, for one second, that it may be you who will ultimately take it.”
Haden wasn’t even trying to hide his tracks. That he didn’t take care to conceal his movements assured Liam of two things. One: He had Olivia. Two: He wanted Liam to find them. That knowledge left him with a knot of dread in the pit of his stomach. He was using Olivia as bait, no doubt intending to trade her for the stone. The bastard was getting too confident in his assumption that Liam wouldn’t kill him. It was making him brave. It was making him dangerous.
The blood covering of Christ would only buy him so much ro
pe. If the bastard wasn’t careful, he’d hang himself with it. Somehow, Haden had discovered where Immanuel’s Stone was hidden, and as much as Liam wanted to go directly to Olivia and rescue her from that rotten bastard’s clutches, they were too close to the Grotto of the Redemption.
Without Liam’s connection to her, he didn’t know precisely where she was, and in searching to find her, he ran the risk of missing them all together. If Haden reached the grotto before he did… If by sheer dumb luck he located the stone… Fuck, he’d have no choice but to intercept them there.
The thought of Olivia being alone with Haden, at his mercy, burned like acid in his veins. He could only imagine the terror she must be feeling. Unable to sense her well-being—her fear—the loss nearly drove him mad. At the time he’d taken her memory, he believed he was keeping her safe. Then again, he never imagined he’d lose his guardianship, effectively neutralizing himself and making the way to Olivia a clean sweep.
He didn’t trust that manipulative POS, and without the truth, Olivia would be vulnerable to his lies. For over the one-hundredth time, he vowed if Haden so much as touched her, neither Heaven or Hell, could keep him from tearing that bastard apart. Death would be merciful compared to Liam’s wrath.
Chapter Thirteen
Olivia couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was the death-grip Haden had on her hand, perhaps her body just refused to relax this close to him. Anyway, it was easier to blame her insomnia on him than admit the true reason sleep eluded her.
Liam wasn’t coming... Despite her claims to Haden that he wouldn’t, she’d secretly held out hope he would come for her. But as the days passed, his absence felt like the final blow. She wasn’t sure how much more heartbreak she could take. Already, she struggled with Liam’s betrayal—the theft of her memory. Her only remembrances of him were the ones she could conjure up in her dreams, and even then, how could she know if they were real or imagined?
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