Deliver Me from Darkness: A Novel of the Paladin Warriors

by Tes Hilaire

  The underlying message was that he couldn’t…because he was one of them. And thus, in her eyes, one of the people she needed protection from. Even now she was slowly edging toward the door again. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to move across the distance and place himself between her and it.

  “If you go in there,” he nodded toward the hall she’d just glanced at longingly, “there is no going back.”

  Her head jerked back around to him. He had her full attention now.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Once you walk through those doors and make your existence known, they won’t ever let you leave again.”

  She paused. He took the opportunity to close some of the distance that had cropped up between them. Her eyes widened. She started to step back, but after a worried glance over her shoulder, she jutted her chin and held her ground instead. “I don’t understand. Why would they do that?”

  “Because they’ll want you,” he explained. Was he so vile that she’d risk the false security of the unknown over his protection? “Every man in there will want to claim you for himself.”

  Her eyebrows flew up. “Claim me? As in grunt, grunt, pound their chest, ‘she’s mine,’ claim me?”

  He had to fight hard to keep his lip from quirking up. She had no idea how close she was, at least in analogy. “Something like that.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe that. Those men were once angels, for crying out loud; they wouldn’t do that.”

  “They’re not angels. Not any longer. They’re men with special powers, egos, and one too-busy and often-absent God to keep them in line.”

  He watched her contemplate his words, indecision shifting uncomfortably with unease across her face. He reclaimed another foot of distance. “There isn’t a man here who won’t fight to have you. And there isn’t a man here who will give a damn if you care to be the spoils of their war or not.”

  She shot him a skeptical look. “And you will? Care, that is.”

  “I care very much.”

  He reached up. She tensed but didn’t move away as he wrapped a tendril of her mahogany curls around his hand. Her chest was lifting and falling; her gaze zeroed in on his mouth as it drew closer and closer. He saw the moment the bond won. She swayed toward him, her head tipping back, her lips parting slightly.

  God, what he wouldn’t do to kiss her now. But here was not the time or place. He needed to get her home, away from the immediate danger. And right now she looked ready to follow him anywhere.

  With a smile he lifted his other hand, pressing it gently against her waiting lips. “Come back home with me, Karissa. I promise not to cross any lines or break any more…deals.”

  Her head jerked back as if he’d slapped her. With a yank, she was out of his hold and had scurried back a half-dozen feet.

  “Karissa?”

  He started to step forward, but she thrust out her hand toward him, palm out.

  “Stop.”

  He did. Not because he wanted to, but because he was afraid she’d take another three steps back and bump into the door. And if she alerted a room full of Paladin that there was a vampire in the house? Well, he might be seeing his death sooner rather than later.

  “Stop trying to enthrall me,” she hissed.

  Enthrall her? “I’m not—”

  She cut him off with a glare just as, behind her, the door started to creak open.

  ***

  Karissa spun around, her arms flying out as she hastily backed up against Roland. Why had he come here? Why had he stayed? It had been Logan’s one condition for bringing her here: Don’t mention Roland. Karissa hadn’t needed to ask why to know the results of such a slip wouldn’t be good. And now Roland was here.

  If the Paladin saw him…

  A man slipped out of the crack in the door, the lights playing off the golden highlights in his hair as he quickly shut it behind him.

  “What are you doing here?” he hissed in low tones.

  Just Logan, thank God. Karissa’s arms fell, and she sagged into the solid mass of Roland behind her. Large arms closed around her, offering support.

  A close call, much too close. If that had been anyone but Logan, or if they’d sent someone out with him to retrieve their visitor…

  Why do you care, Karissa? You were ready to run into that hall and beg their protection just a few minutes ago.

  Logan’s gaze zeroed in on Roland’s arms wrapped around her rib cage, drawing attention to the lingering embrace.

  She blushed but couldn’t seem to bring herself to straighten up and pull away. Too weak, too tired…too…what?

  Eventually Logan dragged his line of sight up over her head to Roland’s face. “Are you an idiot? You need to get the hell out of here, now.”

  “Who’s the idiot that brought her here?”

  Logan’s eyes narrowed dangerously at Roland. “She’s safe here at Haven.”

  “Is she?”

  “Yes,” Logan said, but there had been a moment of hesitation. A split second as his eyes flickered to hers and away. Which meant: lie.

  Karissa’s nails dug into Roland’s arms. She hadn’t taken his warnings all that seriously, but in the face of Logan’s doubt?

  “I’m not leaving without her,” Roland said, his voice firm.

  Logan took a step forward. “Like hell.”

  “You are a fool if you believe no harm will come from bringing her through those doors.”

  Logan glanced uneasily over his shoulder, then back at Roland. “Is this…is your gift telling you this?”

  “No. Simple logic is telling me this. The same logic that had you bring her to my place rather than here originally.”

  Logan’s mouth thinned, giving her a glimpse of the hardened warrior she suspected he truly was. One who, once committed, believed wholeheartedly in his cause. One who would do anything to achieve the end regardless of the means. “Things have changed.”

  “What? What’s changed?”

  “It’s too complicated,” Logan hedged, casting a glance at Karissa.

  Karissa shifted uneasily in Roland’s arms. The thing that had changed was her. After Roland had blown out of the apartment for the evening, she’d tried to erase the memory of his kiss with a long, hot shower. When that hadn’t worked, she’d tried sleeping, and when that hadn’t worked, she’d gone into the study to ask Logan to tell her more of the Paladin. After listening to numerous tales, she’d come to the conclusion that she had to get to know these men who were constantly putting their necks out for humanity. They might be able to help her too. Besides, it had been as good an excuse as any to get Logan to bring her here at this ungodly hour of the night.

  It was Roland’s fault. If he could have left things as ships passing in the night…

  “Listen, Roland,” Logan went on, his voice somewhat moderated but no less firm than before, “I will protect her. But I can’t protect you if someone comes out and finds you. Which, if I don’t go back through those doors with her in the next thirty seconds or so, could be real soon.”

  “It’s not your right to protect her,” Roland growled.

  “Not my right? And what? You think it’s yours?”

  Roland stiffened, his arms tightening around her. Karissa squeaked a bit and they just as quickly gentled again, though not as loose as before.

  “You can’t be serious.” This from Logan.

  Serious? About what? Maybe it was her exhaustion-fried mind, but she was having a real hard time making sense of this conversation. There were hidden meanings and underscored points that she was just not capable of deciphering after all the trauma of the last forty-eight hours, not to mention the night she’d had of tossing and turning. Which too was all Roland’s fault. That damn kiss again. It was like a phantom lover had slipped into the bed next to her, and every time exhaustion had finally taken over and she’d started to drift off it was to the memory of how her lips had burned under his, the feeling of his arms around her.

  L
ike they are now.

  Her body trembled, savoring the strength and the heat that wrapped around her. Though his embrace was a tad constricting, Karissa didn’t get the impression he meant her harm. Quite the opposite, in fact. If anything she felt…safe.

  Before she could sort the thought out, Roland leaned down, his breath caressing her ear. “Let’s go, Karissa.”

  The whispered words had a hoarse edge. She tipped her head back, blinking up at him. His eyes were red and fixated on Logan.

  An overpowering urge to reassure him overcame her. Karissa twisted around in his arms, her hand splaying over his chest. Those red eyes shifted to her, a low rumbling rising in his throat. Funny, even that didn’t scare her. Nope, the kick of lust that pierced through her body, spreading warmth right down to her core, was definitely not an indication of terror.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Logan’s voice broke whatever spell she was under. She managed to drag her gaze away from Roland’s hypnotic eyes and look over her shoulder. Logan’s eyes weren’t hypnotic, or red. They were heated, though, with fury as they sliced into his friend.

  “Get out of here, Roland. Now. Or I might open these doors myself.”

  And he meant it. There was no doubt about that. Roland seemed to know it too. He’d become as tense as steel as he shifted her behind him.

  Her heart hammered, torn between worry and disbelief. Was the idiot actually thinking of fighting a hall full of Paladin over her?

  Nuh-uh. No way. She slipped back around him, stubbornly placing herself between the two men. She was an independent woman perfectly capable of making up her own mind. And she’d already decided that she needed to meet the men who were, day in and day out, holding the line against the creatures responsible for her papa’s death.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, giving Roland an awkward pat on his pectoral.

  “Of course you will, you’re coming with me,” Roland said.

  She shook her head, not sure if she was denying Roland or her stupid alter ego that seemed to be all in favor of her leaping into the vampire’s arms and letting him bring her back to his lair.

  “Karissa.”

  She looked up—bad move—and immediately fell back under the spell of his fiery gaze.

  Logan made a sound like a growl from behind her, his voice rising as he drew closer. “So help me God, Roland, if you don’t stop trying to enthrall her—”

  Enthrall me. Karissa jerked away, using one of the defensive moves Papa had taught her to break Roland’s grip and then scuttled back until Logan grabbed her arm and dragged her against his side.

  She looked down at the floor, positively crushed by her own obvious gullibility. Oh God, what an idiot. So much for willpower. Obviously she had none.

  “Karissa…I swear. I’m not trying to enthrall you.”

  Roland’s voice sounded rough and guttural, as if it pained him to be speaking the words. Why? Because he wasn’t used to someone breaking his enthrallment? Or could the vampire actually have a conscience about lying? But if that were the case, then why did she doubt herself?

  “I only want to protect you.”

  His words struck a chord deep below her breast. It’s what she felt when he held her. Besides the lust, he wanted to protect her, cherish her…love her.

  Love? Vampire? It’s official, Karissa, you’re certifiable.

  Pointedly averting her eyes, she said, “Please go, Roland.”

  “Karissa…”

  “No. I’d be the biggest fool in this room if I put my trust in you. Not with what you are.”

  She thought she needed to touch someone to tap into the gift her papa had passed down to her, but she swore, just then, that she could feel the ripping of Roland’s heart. If hurt could be measured in silence, then the heavy hush that fell on the room after her words could have drowned her in pain.

  She blinked back the unwanted moisture in her eyes, at the same time biting her bottom lip that threatened to quiver. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t…I can’t trust myself around you.

  She wrapped her arms tighter around her ribs, concentrating on the centering presence of Logan beside her. Only it didn’t help. Logan seemed as confused and torn as she was right now. He was, however, determined to keep her from going with Roland.

  “Don’t leave her alone,” Roland warned, then spun around, melting back into the shadows of the dim room.

  Chapter 7

  No sooner had the shadows closed around Roland when the door opened again.

  “Yo, Logan, what’s the holdup?”

  With one last furtive look at the place where Roland had disappeared, Karissa followed Logan’s firm tug on her arm and turned to face the Paladin who’d come out of the hall to retrieve them. The man had come to a halt inside the anteroom, his hand still on the handle of the massive door as he sized her up.

  Karissa was so used to looking up at men that it was a bit of a surprise to come almost even with the Paladin’s bourbon-colored gaze. He was lean, his skin dusky, with dark hair that fell haphazardly over his eyes, down across his prominent cheekbones. His features could almost be considered effeminate, only there was something decidedly male about him.

  The Black Knight.

  As soon as the thought popped into her mind, Karissa knew it to be true. She wasn’t sure how. It felt almost like someone had reached in and planted the knowledge in her mind. But her shields were shut tight again and, in general, her psychic ability was limited to impressions rather than another person’s exact thoughts or emotions, and never outright details. Weird.

  The Paladin let go of the door, letting it click shut behind him. He then folded his arms across his chest, letting out a long whistle.

  “So, this is your little psychic, huh?” His grin split wide. “Little young, isn’t she?” His gaze skirted across the bridge of her nose. “What is she? Sixteen?”

  Karissa drew herself up. “I’m twenty-four, thank you very much.”

  “Really…” He assessed her anew, his voice laden with meaning.

  Logan went taut, his fingers all but bruising the soft flesh of her upper arm. “Enough, Valin. I believe you were sent to bring us into the hall, not delay us further.”

  Valin turned his gaze on Logan. “Ah, yes. Further delay. Makes one wonder what the cause of the first delay was…”

  Karissa realized that Logan’s firm grip on her looked like she had second thoughts and Logan had to bring her back in line. Not quite the truth, but damn close. Bad thing was now, having met Valin, she was more inclined, not less, to try and run away.

  She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder at the shadows again. If Roland was gone, it would make her look more reluctant than she already was. If Roland was there…God, would the idiot try to come to her rescue?

  Probably, she answered her own question. The man seemed to have a touch of suicidal in him.

  Determined to smooth things over, she put on a false smile and looked to Logan. “It’s okay, I’m ready now.” She turned the smile on Valin. “Just a case of the jitters, meeting all of Logan’s brothers all at once like this.”

  “Brothers, huh…” Valin turned a hard stare on Logan. “And what have you shared with her about your brothers?”

  Oh, crap. Had she totally screwed this up? Logan hadn’t said anything about her needing to play dumb on the things he’d told her thus far. Karissa had to bite her lip to keep from opening her mouth and trying to cover. When in doubt, say nothing.

  “I believe that is some of what needs to be discussed with the others, don’t you?” Logan asked, gesturing to the door.

  “Indeed.” Valin pulled the door open and, with a dramatic wave of his hand and a tip of his head, ushered them inside.

  Not even two steps in and Karissa had to fight a sudden loss of mobility. She’d been uncertain of leaving the relative—and she did mean relative—safety of Roland’s apartment. She’d been awestruck, and yes, a bit intimidated by the sprawling Gothic mansion L
ogan had driven her to. She’d been positively jumpy in the anteroom with its dim lighting, barely enough to illuminate the grave features of its silent marble sentries. But nothing had prepared her for this. The hall was vast. And reminiscent of a huge church or something. High arched ceilings supported by thick, marble columns, exquisite carvings, ornate chandeliers, the prerequisite saintly figures…only thing missing was the huge stained glass windows.

  Karissa fell into step with Logan, and again almost tripped to a stop when her legs threatened to collapse. Wow. These Paladin sure knew how to pack a punch. Sheer power. Absolute confidence. It sat on the shoulders of every man in the room. Most of them were packed into the front rows of the hall, but in the very front, instead of an altar, was a long carved table, and behind it sat seven men, which left five spaces empty. These must have been the council of elders that Logan had mentioned. Not one among them was old, at least not to her eyes, but they did all bear an air of maturity, and compared to the other couple dozen prime males in the room, they seemed perhaps a tad deflated. No, not deflated. Just not as physically imposing.

  It was work not to squirm under the many sets of eyes that seemed intent on assessing her, but she managed, concentrating on keeping her stride long and unhurried. She didn’t need to appear to be as nervous as she felt.

  She curled closer to Logan’s side, thankful for his rock-steady presence. He squeezed her arm closer to his body, his thumb continuing to stroke the back of her hand reassuringly.

  “You have nothing to fear as long as I’m nearby,” he said softly.

  She wished his words brought something more than the gratefulness she felt. Logan was a good man. He was the one she should be attracted to.

  But I’m not. Nope, only one man seemed to have the ability to turn her brain to mush.

  Silence stretched, making their walk down the aisle seem longer than it should have been. It was the right thing, coming here. She’d obviously needed to get away from Roland and whatever it was that he did to make her so scatterbrained. Here she could get some answers. These men were God’s warriors. They’d help her…though if they didn’t stop staring at her, she was going to scream.