At the stirring in his belly, Blaéz tensed. He could sense Darci coming out of the castle, probably looking for him. “Let’s do this elsewhere.”
They dematerialized and reappeared in the clearing of the forest on the far side of the estate, a place where Blaéz had trained with his fellow Guardians for centuries. Fading daylight filtered between the clouds through the treetops, casting a pallid glow over all.
Fitting for what would take place.
A bulldozer slammed into him. Blaéz crashed into the ancient trunk of the tall trees. Pain erupted along his spine as he pushed to his feet. Týr rammed into him again, Blaéz stumbled back several steps.
“Fight, you double-crossing bastard!” Another punch landed on Blaéz’s jaw, his head near separating from his neck. Blood seeped from his split lip.
He didn't see the point. He’d broken his oath, and this call was their right. He was just glad Darci would be spared this. At the sticky wetness oozing down his chin, he swiped it away with the back of his bloody hand.
Dagan folded his arms over his chest and watched.
Týr stood inches from Blaéz, fury and pain, along with betrayal stamped his tight face. He’d thought of these males as brothers, bonded with them in the harshest clime of Tartarus, and he’d betrayed them, even if it was against his will. Had Nikkos and Race been here, doubtless they’d be on the other side, too.
Aethan, the only one who hadn't been imprisoned in Tartarus, stood near him.
“You shouldn’t stand with me, I am everything he accused,” Blaéz told the warrior.
Aethan shot him a pissed look, gray eyes like storm clouds. “The fuck you are. Nothing with you fuckers is ever that simple.”
“I heard the demon asshole,” Týr snapped. “Did you take on the role of those bastards who tortured us? Did you do the same to humans? The very souls we are supposed to protect?”
Blaéz didn't bother to correct him. No way could he tell them why now. He’d thought Maloch had his soul. But no, Darci possessed it. They could very well demand he take his soul back. And that he refused to do, not when he wasn't sure what would happen to her. They could beat the crap out of him, torture him, he didn't care. But no one touched her.
“Michael should deal with this,” Dagan said.
Týr ignored that. Demanded, “How long?”
How long since he’d moved to the dark side? “Do the math.”
“No way. No fucking way — from the beginning?” His sword ripped out of his arm, the tip piercing Blaéz’s throat. No pain, just a warm flow of blood trickled down his neck. “Celt, tell me you're lying and I won't kill you. For heaven’s sake, tell me it’s all a damn fucking lie!”
Blaéz merely stared at him. Words couldn’t make up for his deceit, or the pain in Týr’s gaze. He wondered fleetingly what had happened to the warrior in Tartarus for the anger that still raged inside him.
“Noooo!” Darci’s scream ripped through the air.
Fear tore through Blaéz. He shoved Týr’s blade aside, barely noticing the burn on his palm as she darted out from the line of trees with Echo behind her and shot in front of him. Protective as a lioness with a wounded cub, she snarled at Týr, “What the hell are you doing?”
Blaéz didn't want her to see this. He grabbed her by the arm. “You shouldn’t be here. This is between me and the Guardians.”
Her eyes glowed yellow in fury. “So I must just let him kill you?”
“I broke my oath, betrayed the code of allegiance to the Guardians.”
“No, damn you! It’s not all your fault.” She wheeled around, her back plastered against his front so no one would attack him, and glared at the others. “In this world, it’s innocent until proven guilty — and you will damn well listen to me. When Michael appeared to free you all in Tartarus, it wasn't as straightforward as you all think—”
“Darci, let it alone.”
“No,” she barked at him over her shoulder. “They have to know.” She turned back. “That dark angel, Lucifer, took Blaéz’s soul as punishment for stopping another from being tortured. But the soul slipped his hold and Maloch snatched it. He hated your kind, the gods!” She flung out her hand, pointing to them.
Blaéz frowned. He hadn’t told her this, mostly because he didn't remember much of that time.
“How do you know it’s the truth?” Týr demanded of her. “He could have lied.”
“He didn't tell me. I saw it all — I saw every damn thing!”
Blaéz knew she’d dreamed of his torture, but not to this extent. He caught her flaying hand and turned her to him. “Why didn't you say anything?”
“Because I didn't know it was you,” she said, voice husky with torment. “I never saw your face, just your back. I thought it all a nightmare, until…”
“Until what?” Blaéz demanded.
“Until The Morrigan showed up today.” She whirled back to the warriors, leaving Blaéz too stunned to do anything but stare at her. That’s why The Morrigan didn't appear when he’d summoned her; she’d been busy snaring Darci into her fucking duplicitous web.
“There was a tremor in the caves, like an earthquake,” Darci continued. “Blaéz’s soul slipped Maloch’s clutches when he stumbled, and it went back to the goddess of war and death.”
A low snarl rolled out from his throat. Damn The Morrigan, she knew and she hadn’t told him anything.
“Blaéz—” Darci glanced back at him. “The Morrigan couldn’t tell you this — something about balance. So she tried to show you. But you refused to talk to her.”
“This has nothing to do with him breaking his oath,” Týr snapped.
“It has everything to do with it,” Darci retorted. “Because that demon, Maloch, lied. He’s somehow bound Blaéz. It’s why he can't fight the pull back to Hell no matter how hard he tries, and he does. But Maloch wanted more—”
“Darci, stop.” Blaéz didn't want his shame displayed for all. He was still trying to get a handle on the fact that she’d seen everything that had happened. Christ, did she see what Maloch had done to him?
“No, let her finish,” Michael instructed, appearing in a swirl of silvery sparks in front of them.
Darci gave Blaéz a quick look before she turned to Michael. “Maloch wanted Blaéz to join him, to never leave. Blaéz refused and fought the pull; it’s why he preferred getting beaten. Pain keeps him anchored.”
“Why would the bastard want that?” Týr asked. “I get the demons hate us.”
“That, they do,” Blaéz finally said. “But Maloch wanted one like us tied to him for eternity, maybe as a coup — who the hell knows.” No way would he reveal why the depraved fucker wanted him. “I do his bidding, punish the damned, and he proves his enormous sway in the Dark Realm—”
“Maloch captured innocent mortals and tortured them.” Darci narrowed her eyes at him. “He played on Blaéz’s Guardian oath, said he’d only free the souls if Blaéz picked up the fiery hell-bound whip and finished their punishment.”
“I couldn’t leave them with Maloch,” Blaéz admitted. “They could no longer live normal lives. Death was better.”
“Why the fuck didn't you say something?” Týr looked like a sledgehammer had whacked him in the gut.
“Because you would have done exactly what I imagine you want to do right now — walk back into that shithole for vengeance.”
Cursing a vicious streak, Týr pinched the bridge of his nose and paced away to the edges of the clearing. His sword shimmered and vanished.
“Now what?” Aethan asked. “That asshole cannot control a Guardian. How do we break this tie?”
Darci responded, rubbing her arms as if she were cold. “Blaéz said he feels the tug the strongest during the demon’s blood moon.”
“Yes, it would make sense,” Michael agreed. He glanced back at Blaéz. “Getting your soul back would be the only way to null and void the binding.”
“Go back to Hell?” Týr bit out, stalking back to them, his face parchmen
t pale.
“No, not you.” Michael glanced at Aethan. “You’d be best for this. Go with Blaéz. You’ll need to find Maloch’s abode. Demons’ are notorious for keeping things they covet close. The former would be difficult enough to locate, the latter once you get in… dangerous. So be careful. I’ll see if I can find out anything about the demon’s whereabouts.”
Aethan nodded. Echo blanched, but she said nothing, probably recalling the time when she’d been trapped there and died. Aethan dropped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.
“It’s okay, there’s no need for any of that,” Blaéz told them. He drew Darci protectively to him and inhaled her soothing scent. “I’ll just have to find a way to resist the call. He sent those demons after me in retaliation,” he nodded in the direction of the castle, “when I was pulled back there a few days ago, I killed several of Maloch’s minions and injured him.”
“So this was to cause trouble, reveal what you’d done,” Michael mused.
“I’d imagine so.”
“What did he mean when he said he wanted the librarian?” Dagan drew out a half-smoked cigar from his pants pocket and lit it.
Darci stiffened in his arms. “What?”
Blaéz tightened his hold, no way would he let the bastard get anywhere near her. He pressed his lips to her hair. “He’s not coming within breathing distance, let alone touching you. I will kill him first.”
Nor would he ever let Darci know what he suspected. She’d probably want to give it back without thought of what could happen to her. As long as he had her, he didn't care about anything else.
Chapter 27
Taking a deep breath, Darci pushed away from Blaéz. The time had passed for being able to speak to him in private.
“Blaéz?” She nervously kneaded his chest. “There is something you should know.”
Whatever he saw in her face, his entire manner changed, became rigid as if cast in stone. Darci instinctively grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt to hold him there. “Blaéz, it’s me. I—”
“No! Absolutely and unequivocally, no!”
She blinked at his vehemence. Protested. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
His eyes blazed pearlescent in fury. He pulled her hands off his shirt. “Don’t I?”
The others stilled. It was a rare thing to hear Blaéz yell, but she refused to be intimidated. “Blaéz—” she said with quiet determination, “I am the one. I possess your soul.”
Like the wind sweeping through the clearing, it left behind only silence. Deadly silence. Even the leaves stood still.
Blaéz’s fury solidified into ice. “So what?”
He knew? No matter, it changed nothing. Breaking free of his iron-grip, she stepped back a few feet. Her chest hurt as the pit inside of her widened at the knowledge she could never have a life with him. Because Blaéz’s very existence depended on her.
“It means I can freely give—”
“I don’t fucking want it.”
“Why?” Týr demanded. “It would break your damn tie to that asshole—”
“No,” Blaéz cut him off. His gaze pinned on her, narrowed dangerously.
With little choice, she did the only thing left. She let her love flow into her smile and told him the truth. The partial truth. “Blaéz. I’m merely its keeper.”
“Are you now?” His expression hardened, his tone dropped to a worrying sub-zero.
“Yes.”
“Then tell me what happens to you once you release it?”
Damn. The man was worse than a cross-examining lawyer. “Nothing. My lineage has protected your soul since the beginning. I guess my bloodline is strong enough to house a god’s soul.”
He closed the small distance between them, grasped her by her upper arms and hauled her close, his nose almost touching hers. “Never lie to me, Darci. The Morrigan is as selfish as the rest of them in the pantheons; she cares only about easing her own guilt. I'm not fool enough to believe that bull about a mortal housing two souls.”
“It’s the only way out and you know it,” Darci said with a stubborn tilt of her chin. “I refuse to let you destroy yourself.”
“And you think that’s so fucking important to me? That I would accept it, then watch while you take your last breath?”
She froze. His cold smile cut like a razor.
Darci straightened her spine. “It is my right, my will to do as I want.”
“Indeed. Well, I have to accept it, don’t I?” He let her go and turned to Michael, dismissing her. “I need to know what happens now. Do you take this to Gaia or what?”
“Dammit, Blaéz!” Darci grabbed his arm dried with blood, but that was like trying to turn a deeply rooted tree stump. She wheeled in front of him. “My soul may not be as strong as yours, but I am mortal.”
His lips tightened. The rigid lines of his face morphing into anguish at her unsaid words; she would eventually die anyway. And Darci knew there was no way he’d freely accept his soul. It had to be why The Morrigan had given her the disc.
Blaéz looked past her to Michael. “What’s next?”
“Gaia would have to give her verdict. In the meantime, find a way to counter that pull before the next blood moon. Check out the ancient scripts we have again. I’ll see what I can do. And you're back on patrol, but pair up with another. Those bastards will probably cause havoc on the streets now.”
In a swirl of silvery sparks, Michael vanished.
Týr crossed to them, hesitated. His toffee-brown eyes still edged with betrayal, he stared at Blaéz, but they held empathy, too. “Goddammit,” he muttered before he walked away, fast disappearing into the darkening forest as night stole in. Dagan glanced at Blaéz, nodded, and he too left.
“You need me, call,” Aethan told Blaéz.
Echo offered Darci a sympathetic smile, but the shock on her face remained at Darci’s disclosure as she and Aethan departed.
Leaving Darci alone with Blaéz.
“Why didn't you tell me The Morrigan was your mother?” she asked him.
“A twist of fate doesn't make her my mother. The female who cared for me was one of her servants.” Fury lingered in his gaze as he made his way through the trees.
“Blaéz, wait.” She rushed after him. He spun around, and she crashed into him, feeling as if she’d run into granite.
“Don’t ever lie to me again, Darci. Just don’t. I’ve been dealt that shit once too often.” Taking her hand, he walked back toward the castle. Darci had a feeling she knew of whom he spoke. What had The Morrigan done that made him hate her so much?
Before she could speak, he said, “The Morrigan’s visit was what you wanted to talk to me about?”
Though nothing showed on his face, Darci got the distinct impression he was furious that his mother had come after her. “Yes. But everything seemed to go to hell so fast today, there wasn’t even a chance to do so.”
“I know.” His thumb stroked her palm. “I know.”
“Why do you dislike her?”
“Because she made my life a living hell.”
***
Darci stalked the dressing room a half hour later while Blaéz changed into his patrolling gear. The sight of his muscular thighs encased in leather pants and a t-shirt stretched over his well-defined body distracted her a little, and had her eyeing him in appreciation. But her mind tipped back into worry. Michael shouldn’t have let him go back on patrol so soon with Maloch’s minions around.
“Blaéz, it’s dangerous being out on the streets.”
“Stop worrying. Aethan’s my guard tonight, he’s one terrifying son-of-a-bitch.” He sat down on the wooden chest and pulled on socks. “I’ll be fine, even if the demon opens a damn portal to yank me back.”
Right. Darci stopped her erratic pace-a-thon and leaned against the bureau. The whip wound on his bicep had healed and was now a thin red line. But the bloody spots on his cheeks troubled her. “Those lesions on your face aren’t healing.”
“I’ll be fine in a few hours.”
“What caused them?”
“Wyvern.”
“Those lizard things?” Darci shivered, remembering the horrendous demonic creature she’d seen through the library window.
“Yeah.” He picked up a boot and tugged it on. “Their saliva’s like acid.”
“Thank God you can heal yourself!”
“Indeed.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I'm lucky that way.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “Blaéz, we have to talk about this—”
“We definitely will, about this irrational need you have to put yourself in danger again.” He rose. The quiet fury in his tone made her wary. “You ever think to do something so reckless again, rush in front of fighting warriors, I will lock you up in that library you love so much.”
She scowled, straightening from the bureau. “Would you stop threatening me? I was trying to save you!”
At her irritation, his anger seemed to deflate. He crossed to her and gently stroked her cheek. “Don’t you know, you already have, a leannan? A touch and you gave me life again.”
His words melting her ire, she rested her face on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“I will find another way to break this cursed binding, I promise. But I need to know you’ll be safe. Don’t try anything foolish.” He pulled back, his gaze stern. She knew what he meant: Don’t give him his soul without his knowledge.
“Promise me, Darci?”
At his insistence, and with little choice, she sighed. “Okay, fine, I won't.” For now.
He cupped her face. “You're my life. Don’t take that away from me. We will find a way out of this. Trust me.”
Within seven days? How would they?
Chapter 28
Darci opened her eyes, squinting at the midday sunlight streaming into the bedroom. Her body trapped against a warm, breathing wall with limbs. And fingers that caressed her breast. Her breath hitched. Sleep cleared in a heartbeat as his mouth settled on her nape and nipped her skin.
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