Her Fallen Protector

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Her Fallen Protector Page 8

by Nichole Severn


  “That’s true, but do I want to know?” She snapped her mouth shut, but the repercussions of her words were already there. His gaze dimmed, the laugh lines around his mouth disappearing, and her appetite vanished. Heat crawled up her neck. She picked up her glass, swallowing a heavy gulp of the velvety red wine. It didn’t help. “I just mean you’re involved in a world where the monsters look like everyday humans. They live among people, kidnap them. What does that make you?”

  Had a pin dropped on the table, it would’ve rung like a gong.

  He glided his fingertips over the back of her hand.

  She melted with the contact, every cell in her body responding. He moved in a slow rhythm, sending shocks of electricity into her chest. Before Rio, it had felt like an eternity since she’d been so connected with another human being. He’d made it easy. She’d missed his taste, his hair, his strong shoulders, and rigid muscles. She’d missed his smile and watching him approach her like a warrior ready to take what was his. Missed being whole for just a few hours.

  She’d missed him, dammit.

  “I’m anything you need me to be.”

  She relaxed, her body, mind, and soul at peace for only the second time in the last ten years, both instances with him. Her guardian angel.

  He traced her knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

  No. He wouldn’t get inside her head again. She withdrew her hand and her insides went cold, but not even a forkful of roast warmed her like he did. “This roast is absolutely delicious, but no matter how good a cook you are, we can’t hide out here forever. So what do we do?”

  “Isabel and Damien want the Seal. That’s all they care about.” He paused, glanced at her. “You need to eat, keep your strength up.” He waited until she began eating again before continuing. “If they’ve studied you as much as I have, they’ll revisit any place you might’ve hidden it. Your apartment, your office, the bank where you keep the ring your mortal father gave you.”

  So that was his plan. “How do we know that ring isn’t the real Seal?”

  “You wore it in Rio, right? When I took your hand in mine, I felt no power resonating from it. It’s just a ring.” He pushed back from the table and collected their plates, scraped and stacked them at the sink.

  She swung her legs to one side and draped her arm on the back of the chair. “You think if I offer that ring, they’ll leave us alone?”

  “Neither Damien nor Isabel have the power to make the ring work. They’ll have to take it back to their master to verify it’s the Seal. That should give us enough of a head start to track down the real ring, but we have to make it look convincing.” In three strides, he took his seat again and dragged his boots and socks closer.

  Her stomach turned to stone and sank to her toes as he laced up. The easygoing man who’d stayed by her side while she’d slept, made dinner, set the table with fine china, and walked around the house barefoot had vanished. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you don’t want to live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, and neither do I.” His shoulders sagged on a long exhale. He turned those brilliant green eyes on her. The hardness of his gaze lightened and she had no problem visualizing them hiding out here for the rest of their lives. Sleeping late, walking around barefoot, filling the silence with the undeniable passion they’d ignited in Rio. Just as quickly, though, the fantasy dissolved as he stood. “We have to end this. For both our sakes.”

  He offered his hand, palm up. Another choice. “Do you trust me?”

  Wasn’t that the million-dollar question?

  “Yes.” She wrapped her hand in his automatically. His calloused fingertips sent a zing up her arm and she had less than a single breath to consider the reaction. A gut-wrenching pressure constricted her organs. She couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. Only Jacob’s firm grasp on her hand let her know she hadn’t died. Her feet had been firmly planted in their safe haven, so she couldn’t explain how she’d landed in the middle of her bank’s empty lobby. It took three tries to clear her throat. How had he done that? “What—”

  “We don’t have time.” He let go of her hand and knelt.

  “What are you doing?” Her vision adjusted to the darkness. Two bodies lay motionless in front of them, a man and a woman. One step forward and she would’ve tripped right over the security guards. Her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard. “Are they…”

  “Dead.” He rose, his attention diverted to the lit hallway across the lobby. “Come on. They’re already here.”

  Wrapping his hand around hers, he led her down the single hallway to the back of the building.

  Electricity flooded her fingers and traveled up her arm the longer she held his hand. If she didn’t let go soon, she’d catch fire, but she refused to loosen her grip. Safety permeated every pore, drove her to follow him. As long as she stayed by his side, she’d survive this.

  At the intersection of two hallways, he pulled up short and she plowed into his back.

  “Wait,” he said.

  Voices echoed down one hall. Deep. Angry.

  She couldn’t understand the conversation, but recognized one of the sources. Damien. “What do we do now?” she asked.

  “The plan has changed.” He shook his head, pushed her back the way they’d come. His face turned harsh, and he stared at her, as if begging for understanding. For what, she didn’t know, but she’d do anything he asked as long as she never had to see that look again. “Go back to the lobby. Wait for me.”

  Except that.

  “What? No. I didn’t let you beam me here like some Star Trek episode to watch from the sidelines. I’m with you. I don’t want to spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders, either. We came to buy some time and the only way to do that is to convince them that ring is the real thing.”

  She stepped around him, pushed him off when he reached for her. She took a deep breath before peering around the corner, but it did little to help comprehend the two monsters standing over her safe deposit box. A small gasp escaped her.

  Red eyes focused on her in an instant and a jolt of nausea flooded her stomach. With pitch-black skin, talons, and black wings, the androgynous bodies turned toward her. She couldn’t tell them apart, but something in the back of her mind told her Isabel and Damien stared back at her.

  Rough hands pulled her back. “Get out of here!”

  Inhuman screams filled her ears as he spun her around. She stumbled down the hallway, back toward the two security guards. Coherent thoughts refused to form as tears blurred her vision. Not possible.

  “Vdarra…” screeched a feminine voice. A mortal voice, but the monster couldn’t be further from human.

  The click of heels against the tile floor rang loud in her ears, but the voice came from everywhere at once. No direction. No clue as to where Isabel hid.

  Vdarra ran, her leg muscles burning, but she chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. She stumbled, tripping over one of the dead guards.

  Face-to-face with the woman’s lifeless eyes and parted lips, she tried to breathe evenly. Focus. Have to get out of here. The images of those monsters pounded against the back of her mind. Go.

  “I can see you.” The whisper crawled across her skin like satin, brushed the furthest reaches of her mind.

  She flipped over onto her back. Staring out into the dim bank lobby revealed nothing. She strained to hear any hint of movement. Isabel wouldn’t even have to see her to pinpoint her location. Her body had already betrayed her. Run, dammit.

  Isabel materialized at her feet before Vdarra could move. Casual. Unstable. “There you are.”

  “You—you killed the guards.” She struggled to slide across the tile flooring as Isabel closed in. The security guards created a barrier between her and the door. The only way she could escape would be to turn her back on the enemy, give Isabel the advantage. “They had nothing to do with this. They were innocent.”

  “All fun and games before the big reveal.” Isabel’s li
ps stretched into a thin smile and Vdarra swore her incisors elongated. “My master’s been waiting a long time for this moment.”

  She had to make her words convincing.

  “For the ring? You found it, didn’t you?” She groped the security guard’s body for something to use to defend herself. The monster lurking under Isabel’s skin could emerge at any second. Her hand hit solid metal. The coarse handle of the gun fit easily into her palm and she aimed. From that distance, the bullets would hit vital organs. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk out of here with it. Hand it over.”

  A shrill laugh drove her insides into a frenzy. The hairs on the back of her neck rose.

  “I’ll make you a deal.” Isabel dropped something onto her stomach. Security lights above reflected off the ring she’d stored in the safety deposit box. “If you reach the next building over, you can have it.”

  Just as suddenly as she’d appeared, Isabel vanished. “Starting now.”

  Her muscles froze against her will, but her instincts screamed at her again. Run. She shoved the ring onto her middle finger and pushed to her feet, ran as fast as she could toward the bank’s exit. She kept the gun in her hand and her finger on the trigger and shoved the glass doors open.

  The time on a nearby marquee read nearly midnight. Skyscrapers lined Broad Street and only a few people walked the usually busy Financial District. She wouldn’t call out for help. The last thing she needed was another innocent life taken because of her. Tears blurred her vision, but she bolted across the wet grass for the next building over.

  Then froze.

  Jacob hadn’t followed her out.

  Solid force slammed into her side. “I win,” screeched Isabel.

  Forced onto her back, she struggled against the weight pinning her down. The gun. Where was the gun? The streetlights gave her an idea of what kind of monster snarled and rippled above her, but she only focused on finding the weapon. Like a rabid dog, her attacker went for her throat.

  Vdarra wrenched herself up, and Isabel’s aim landed on her shoulder instead. Pain exploded down into her left arm. She screamed then, twisting and turning, finally bucked the demon off of her. She kicked up hard, and it landed in the center of Isabel’s chest, but it didn’t have the same effect as it’d had back in her cell.

  Isabel retreated with a moan. The winged creature dropped its head back, licked black lips clean of her blood. “I’ve always liked the taste of mortals, but you are extra sweet.”

  Black skin hardened against her hand where she’d tried to push the monster back. She clawed away from the red eyes promising her end and her foot knocked against something hard.

  The gun.

  She barely wrapped her fingers around the pressed steel when a foot landed on one splayed leg. A scream ripped from her throat. She couldn’t escape. The safety clicked inward with a push from her thumb. She twisted at the hip and contracted her index finger over the trigger.

  Twice. Three times.

  A sharp scream nearly burst her eardrums. Isabel reared back and the pressure on her leg vanished.

  The night quieted. No more screams. No beat of wings.

  “Jacob.” Where was he? She gripped the gun hard and scrambled to her feet. The ring dug into her middle finger, most likely warped during her struggle with Isabel. Her leg throbbed with each step toward the bank, but she wouldn’t leave him behind. Not when their entire plan depended on him helping her find the Seal. Not when she depended on him.

  Two forms crashed through the bank’s front doors. Glass splintered as both hit the ground rolling. One gained advantage over the other, but trees blocked the streetlamps at this angle. She couldn’t tell the fighters apart.

  “Vdarra!” Jacob yelled.

  “Oh, thank God.” Her injured shoulder protested as she ran toward him. Screw the ring. They had to get out of there before one of them didn’t make it out alive.

  Almost there.

  A massive set of wings expanded from Jacob’s shoulders. The gust beat against her skin from more than twenty feet back, but couldn’t slow her down. They’d survive this. Had to. Together. Stretching at least eight feet from tip to tip, his magnificent plumage reflected the moonlight in muted streaks, cutting through the air like blades. Damien’s own set sliced at him across the chest and a thin sliver of blood stained his T-shirt. The fight moved out from under the tree line into the halo of streetlight flooding the sidewalk.

  She slowed, tried to catch her breath. Impossible. In her visions, his wings had always been white. But now…

  “Your…” She couldn’t say it, didn’t trust her own judgment. She couldn’t unlock her knees. The gun fell from her hand. After everything he’d said to her, it had all been a lie. He’d never told her exactly which side he’d chosen, she’d only assumed, but now he couldn’t deny the similarity between his and Damien’s wings. Unsteady, she backed away from the sounds of ripping flesh and animalistic growls.

  A wall of hardened flesh stopped her short.

  She pivoted, but couldn’t fight against the strong arms pinning her hands to her side. In another gut-wrenching blur, the grass under her feet disappeared. When the world solidified, whoever held her let go, and she folded over her knees. She’d landed in an alley. Traffic and rain echoed down its long corridor. Jacob, Isabel, Damien, the bank, were all gone. The unfaltering grip around her ribcage intensified the nausea churning like molten lava in her gut.

  She tightened her hands into fists and wrenched back. “Don’t touch me.”

  Poor lighting shadowed his features. Too tall to be Isabel, and Damien had his hands full with Jacob seconds ago. Maybe their master had run out of patience and come to collect the ring himself. “Who are you?”

  “Don’t worry, daughter. I have you.” The voice slid across her skin, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. “Just breathe. The shock will pass.”

  Recognition tightened her throat. “It’s not possible.”

  The shadow stepped into the light and confirmed her worst nightmare.

  “Dad?”

  Chapter Nine

  Nothing had prepared her for this.

  “You died.” Her voice shot into high-pitched territory. She stepped away from the elderly man in front of her. “I buried you.”

  This wasn’t happening. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Would Damien or Isabel really settle for mind games to get what they wanted from her? Yes. But this… this surpassed everything she’d expected from them. “What kind of sick trick is this?”

  Just as she remembered him, Edward Jansen exuded confidence, power, and absolution. He held himself upright at over six feet, and with a slight dusting of white in his gray hair, he looked to be in his forties, despite being sixty years old. Good genes, he’d told her.

  “No trick. I’m really here.” Her father counteracted her step by taking one closer.

  His eyes, the same color brown as hers, studied her from head to toe. The man in front of her felt like her father. She didn’t know how to describe it aside from the slight vibration just beneath her skin, and the love emanating from his gaze. Nobody affected her the way he did. How could someone fake that? “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he said.

  “Dad, what’s going on?” She’d slipped into madness. In the past seventeen hours, she’d been kidnapped, experimented on, and thrown into a world filled with monsters. Now, her father, less than two weeks dead, stood in front of her. The tears broke free and the small amount of energy she’d saved to fight off another attacker drained from her body. Her shoulders sagged and she couldn’t hold back the sob in her throat. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  “You’re not losing your mind. I can explain everything, Vdarra.” He offered his hand. “But we have to get you to a safer place.”

  She stared at his fingers absently. The darkness hid the scars on his hands from the day he pulled her out of the ocean, but she’d find them in the light. They’d become a comfort, a small piece of her past s
he knew to be true. She had no doubt he could give her answers, but only one question weighed on her mind. “Is that my real name?”

  He dropped his hand, but didn’t answer.

  A wave of heat worked up her throat and she forced her vision steady. “Are you even my father? Is anything you told me true?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “I’m your father. You’re my daughter, but there’s a lot you don’t remember about this life. I’m here to help with that.”

  “What do you mean this life?” Echoes of her lost memories, of Jacob, flashed one after the other across her mind. “What is going on? Who am I?”

  Sections of his face shifted and warped.

  Her mouth dropped open. She took two steps back and hit the side of a Dumpster. She ignored the pain, her eyes locked on the disturbing scene.

  As if tiny insects crawled beneath his skin, Edward Jansen’s forehead rippled with movement straight out of a horror movie. Wrinkles disappeared, his eyes darkened, and scars evaporated. A sharp jawline appeared, matching her own, and he seemed to grow an entire two inches in height. Bones popped and loose skin tightened. In a process taking no longer than ten seconds, the father who’d stood in front of her had been replaced with someone she didn’t know. The frame beneath the expensive suits he lived in remained unchanged, but a younger, more vibrant, version of the man who’d pulled her from the ocean stared down at her through dark eyes.

  She had nowhere to run. The Dumpster prohibited her from moving an inch. Her tears dried. “Who are you? What are you?”

  He opened his arms, as if welcoming her into them, but she couldn’t move. Wouldn’t move. “I’m your father.”

  “You’re one of them. You’re a demon.”

  He scoffed, his pitch-black gaze locking on hers. “No, I’m far more. As are you, my child. You don’t belong here with the mortals, Vdarra. You were made for so much more. You were made to rule.”

 

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