Goose bumps crept up her flesh as he approached. She glanced anxiously around the room, looking for Max, but she couldn’t see him. Her heart began to pound with dread, and she turned back to look for the stranger who’d been standing at the entrance, desperate for the reassurance of a friendly face. To her relief, he still stood there, but he looked anything but friendly.
Actually, he looked absolutely terrifying. Anger and possessiveness shone in those bright amethyst eyes. Before she had a chance to consider the intent of his scowl, the tattooed guy suddenly stepped into her line of vision.
“Hey there, sweetheart. I’m Amos,” he slurred, leaning his hip casually against the table. His eyes roved over her, making her feel like she needed a shower. “You wanna play?” His double meaning hung in the air making her stomach turn. She continued to rack the balls, avoiding the man’s vulgar gaze. Panic climbed up her throat, threatening to choke off her air.
“I’m already playing with someone.” She tried to keep the fear out of her voice. “Thanks, anyway,” she added dismissively. Maybe the creep would just take the hint and leave.
She leaned over the table, lining up her shot to break, when the man reached out and captured her wrist. “How about we play something else then?” he growled.
Olivia glanced over her shoulder, anxiously locking her eyes on Liam. His expression darkened, if that was even possible. He pushed off the wall, heading straight toward her with a determined, lethal grace. He was halfway across the room when he abruptly stopped. At the same time she caught movement from the corner of her eye—Max. A wave of relief washed over her as he approached. His dark brown eyes deepened to black as they bore down on the man gripping her wrist. She almost felt a moment of pity for him.
“The girl’s with me,” Max growled. Olivia stood frozen in fear as the grip on her wrist tightened, making her wince in pain.
“Well, maybe she wants to play with me?” the tattooed freak show drawled in his drunken cockiness.
“If you don’t take your hands off her, I’m gonna break your arm,” Max snarled. “Go find yourself another female—this one’s mine!” He reached over and gripped the man’s forearm. Amos held Max’s glare in defiant stupidity. Without warning, his grip tightened, and Olivia felt the man’s forearm crack against her wrist. The loud crunch made her stomach lurch, and bile rose up the back of her throat.
Amos released her and cradled his broken arm with his good hand, holding it protectively against his chest. “Son of a bitch!” he yelled, taking two weary steps back.
“Hey, I warned you. Just be glad it wasn’t your damn neck!”
Max took a possessive hold of Olivia’s arm and pulled her a step closer to him. “Let’s get out of here, Liv. It doesn’t look like my friends are gonna show anyway.”
She leaned into Max. Without his support, she wasn’t sure she could walk out on her own.
He winked at her and smiled. “Come on, I’ll buy you an ice cream.” How could he be so unfazed by what just happened?
Max led her through the crowd. As if he were parting the Red Sea, people stepped out of his way, cutting him a wide berth. The patrons watched him with respect and fear. Maybe that’s why she noticed Liam standing out amongst the others as they approached. Strong confidence radiated from him. There was no respect, and definitely no fear in those amethyst-hued deep violet eyes of his. Olivia smiled at him as she walked past, thankful he had almost come to her aid. He nodded to her in acknowledgement, but that kind, warm smile he’d worn before was gone now.
Max let go of her arm as they walked past the stranger. She took a few more steps toward the door, anxious to leave this dive, when a loud thud echoed behind her. An even louder blow followed the first, and she turned back to see Max flying toward her. She braced herself, expecting him to crash right into her. Thankfully, he recovered before plowing her down. She watched in shock as Max spun around with lightning speed and charged the stranger, stopping less than a foot from him.
“You got a problem, friend?” Max hissed.
“I’m not, nor will I ever be, your friend,” Liam growled, bearing down on him.
A crowd quickly gathered around them, all eager for the show. Olivia stared at the two in open-mouthed horror. She forced her feet forward without stopping to consider the foolishness of her actions. Her butt brushed the stranger’s thighs as she wedged herself in between the two of them. She pressed her palms against Max’s chest and shoved him back. That was about as effective as trying to hold back a brick wall.
Olivia shot Liam a glare over her shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled, surprised to see a brief look of regret in his eyes. He took a step back, breaking contact with her backside.
She looked into the crowd for help, but they quickly scattered when it became obvious there’d be no brawl—not with her standing in between them, not that this den of thieves would have been of help anyway. A few murmurs of disappointment were heard amongst them as they dispersed.
“I’m sorry I upset you, Olivia.” The way her name rolled off his lips sounded too familiar—almost intimate, causing butterflies to flip in her stomach.
“Please forgive me.” His eyes searched hers for a sign of understanding. She held his gaze, unable to look away.
“Smooth—” Max sneered, interrupting their unspoken conversation. “Come on, Liv, let’s go.” He reached out and took her arm, giving her a little tug toward him. Olivia reluctantly broke Liam’s stare and turned her attention back to Max. She slid her arm around his waist and hugged him tightly to her side. As they turned to walk away, she almost swore she heard a soft growl rumble in the stranger’s chest, but the noise in the bar returned. AC/DC’s Thunderstruck played in the background, making it too loud for her to hear anything—it must have just been the music.
“What’s that guy’s problem?” Olivia asked as they stepped into the parking lot.
“Beats me,” Max said innocently. “He was talking to you earlier. What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything—really.” She wasn’t about to tell him the stranger’s theory that Max was trying to get her killed. “Just that his name was Liam, and he’d see me around.” Olivia didn’t appreciate Max implying that the fight had been her fault.
He laughed—the unpleasant sound made the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“What?” she snapped. “I hardly think this is a laughing matter, Max.”
“You’re right, Liv, it’s not.” He held her eyes a moment, and that familiar intensity sent a chill up her spine. As quick at it came, the look disappeared. It was so brief, she could have imagined it. He gave her his classic grin that always made her wonder what he was up to. “Let’s just forget it, okay?”
Olivia frowned. “All right…” They walked over to the bike and Max climbed on first. “I think you broke that guy’s arm back there.”
“What?”
“The guy, who grabbed me.” How could he possibly forget?
“Oh yeah—well, he’ll live,” Max muttered dismissively. “He’s lucky I didn’t break his goddamned neck.”
She rubbed away the goose bumps that ran up her arms while fighting back the uneasiness that formed a hard knot in the pit of her stomach. There was no doubt in her mind Max actually meant it.
***
Liam slammed the front door and tossed the keys on the counter. They landed with a loud clang as he walked into the living room and dropped heavily onto the sofa. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Balen watching him with bored amusement.
"Want to talk about it?"
He looked at Balen, but didn't reply.
"It went that well, huh?"
"She’s reckless," Liam growled. "Do you have any idea where I was tonight?"
The question was rhetorical. Balen didn’t answer.
"The Wrath, can you believe it? She went to The Wrath!"
The amusement on Balen's face suddenly disappeared into a scowl. "Why in the hell would she g
o there?"
"Because that son of a bitch took her there!"
"He's obviously trying to get her killed.”
"That's the thing," Liam said, trying to make sense of what happened. “He protected her from one of them—even broke the demon’s wrist for touching her."
"I'm surprised you didn't kill him first."
"I would have, believe me. I was on my way over there when Max stepped in. He snapped his wrist with no effort at all. He’s strong—the Dark Court was thorough when they selected him.”
"Why do you think he did it? You don’t think he's developing feelings for the girl?"
That thought sent a rush of dread straight through his heart. He paused a minute, giving consideration to Balen’s suggestion. “No, he's incapable,” he said, dismissing the possibility that Max could have an attachment toward her. “The only emotional affection the fallen are capable of possessing is lust. Humans are nothing more to them than pawns in a universal game of chess. There's got to be another reason—some personal gain.”
“Any idea what that would possibly be?”
“No clue, but whatever it is, I guarantee it isn’t for Olivia’s benefit.”
Chapter Four
The setting sun cast shades of lavender and fuchsia over the pier. Max’s “friends” still hadn’t arrived. He seemed angry, despite his effort to hide it.
“Max, it’s getting late,” Olivia said softly. “I have an oral report due in Spanish Monday, and I haven’t even started it yet.”
He jumped down off the side of the pier, landing gracefully on the sandy beach below, and wordlessly walked away. She stepped up to the edge and looked over the side. The drop was easily fifteen feet. How could he have possibly made that jump without getting hurt?
She walked down the long pier—alone. Her fear of heights prevented her from attempting such a leap herself. Max could be rude and inconsiderate sometimes, it seemed more often than not, lately. She was growing tired of making excuses for his bad behavior, yet she could understand his disappointment tonight, but that certainly wasn’t any reason to be an ass. Sympathy only went so far, for so long.
Obviously he still suffered from the loss of his parents. She couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like for him, losing them both in that horrible car accident. Then to get yanked out of military school a semester before graduation, moving back home, handling his parents’ affairs, and the house…maybe she should cut him some more slack.
Max stood in the parking lot, straddling his bike. “Come on.”
“I’m not running, Max. You could have waited for me.”
He sighed impatiently and climbed back off the motorcycle, walking back toward her. The charming smile he painted in his face reminded her more of a Cheshire cat. He gathered her into his arms and snuggled his face into the side of her neck. “I’m sorry, Liv.”
His attempt to make amends brought a smile to her face. Now, that’s more like it. She couldn’t stay mad at him. Her resistance softened as she stood there in the middle of the sandy beach, wrapped tightly in his arms. He placed small kisses against the side of her neck.
A throaty purr rumbled in the back of his throat, making her laugh. She playfully spun out his embrace and ran away from him. Fine warm grains of sand spilled into her sandals with each step. She glanced over her shoulder to see if he followed her, enjoying her little game. His brow quirked in amusement and his dark eyes locked on her, watching her every movement as if she were his prey, sending a tremble of excitement fluttering in her chest.
“Don’t make me chase you, Olivia.” His husky growl carried to her on the briny air.
“Ha, you couldn’t catch me,” she challenged, throwing down the gauntlet.
As the last word left her mouth, he took off after her. She let out a high-pitched squeal and jagged to the left, running straight toward the ocean. Just as her sandaled foot touched the cool frothy water, a pair of strong muscular arms scooped her up in the air.
She yelped playfully, laughing when he swung her around in his arms and kissed her. “I told you not to make me chase you,” he whispered against her lips. “You could never outrun me, Olivia.”
***
Max shut off the bike and walked it into Olivia’s driveway. The last thing he needed was the neighbors complaining to her parents about the late night wake-up calls from the Harley’s engine. He let out the kickstand, climbed off the bike, and reached over to pick up Olivia. He held her against him, arms circled loosely around the small of her back.
“You gonna invite me inside?” he whispered against the side of her cheek, pressing his lips against the soft fragrant skin in front of her ear. The slight catch in her breath brought a smile to his lips. She liked it when he kissed her there. She’d like his kisses in a lot of other places too if he could only get the female to let her guard down for even a few minutes.
“I can’t, Max, it’s late.”
He sighed heavily, pent up and frustrated to be put off yet again. How much longer could he keep up the “good guy” act? What did he know about being a “good boyfriend” anyway? The girl was lucky he restrained himself around her as much as he did.
Olivia was fresh—pure—innocent. Honestly, that was part of her appeal. And she’d stay that way, at least until he got done with her. He’d have to try harder to win the girl’s heart. If he scared her off, or if she lost interest in him, there would be hell to pay—literally.
Max bent his head and brushed his lips against hers one last time before forcing himself to let her go. “Good night, Liv.” He turned away and climbed back on the bike. Unfortunately, he had another appointment he was late for anyway. Unable to delay the inevitable any longer, Max drove home and parked the Harley inside his garage, cursing to himself how much he hated Sheol.
The moment he stepped across dimensions into the realm of the Dark Court, the stench of smoke and sulfur assaulted his nose. Three elders sat on a platform overlooking the broken, eroded walkway. The only light came from a wall of flames that burned behind them, casting eerie shadows across the room.
The smell never bothered Max this much before. He’d gotten used to it over the years, but now that he walked the earth and smelled the clean, fresh air and the scent of thriving life, the putrid stench of this world beyond made him nauseous. His thoughts immediately turned to Olivia, remembering the mouthwatering scent of vanilla and jasmine, a pleasant and much needed distraction. Would she taste as delicious as she smelled? Every touch so far promised she would.
The heavy stench grew stronger the closer he got to the three. The bitter tang of bile burned the back of his throat. It would take at least an hour to scrub the stink off of him when he got home. As hard as he tried, he could never entirely remove the smell. It clung to him, lingering like a bad rash.
“Well?” Lorca demanded. His low-pitched hiss felt like sandpaper scraping against his skin. His black oversized weepy eyes bore into Max, making him shuddered with disgust.
“Well,” Max snapped back sarcastically, trying to hide his unease. “Where were they? It’s not my fault they didn’t show. Did you expect me to keep the girl there all night?”
“What we expect is for you to do your job. And that doesn’t include you starting fights with a Ronnin warrior!” Gahn, the second in command, yelled.
Max froze. Shit…so that explains it. Guardians weren’t typically that aggressive, and there weren’t many angels who could walk into a den of demons and live to tell about. Obviously he’d underestimated the stranger.
“You’re lucky the girl was with you or you probably would have been killed. And then where would we be?” Gahn growled. “It won’t be long before the girl discovers she has the sight. She’ll be harder to manipulate once she figures out the truth. You’re running out of time!”
The third creature sat silently in between the two demons, a long black cloak covering him from head to toe. His once beautiful face was now hidden by a hood, concealing his contorted disfigurements. All
Max could see of him were two red eyes glowing back at him. They penetrated his soul, burning every inch of the way. He shifted uncomfortably, anxious to get out from under the probing stare.
“What can you tell me about the warrior?”
“He’s served in Michael’s legion, and he’s there for the girl, to win her heart away from you.” Unease settled in the pit of Max’s stomach. The mention of Michael’s name drudged up bad memories, memories he’d thought were long since buried, apparently not deep enough.
“Are you certain he’s served under Michael?”
“Of course I’m sure!” Lorca snapped. “You think I’m just pulling this out of my ass? Amos recognized him tonight. They served together before The Segregation.”
So that’s what you’re calling it now? “The Segregation?”
“That took a lot of balls, you know, breaking Amos’ wrist. We had plans for him, I’ll have you know!”
“Yeah, well, I warned him to back off. Olivia is mine. Maybe next time, he’ll listen.”
“She won’t be yours for long if that warrior gets a hold of her. Your only chance to win against him is through the girl’s free will. She must choose you!” Gahn reiterated. “You can’t kill a Ronnin warrior without Immanuel’s Stone.”
We’ll see about that. “I’ll get the job done,” he promised, not hesitating to take his leave. He shuddered in disgust as he walked past the hounds stationed by the door. Froth foamed from their snouts and dripped from giant fangs. Their eyes shifted wildly back and forth as the dogs paced restlessly, standing guard before the entrance. Why they had guards here was beyond him, it wasn’t like anyone would want to come here. They certainly weren’t here for crowd control. Max walked past the hounds, pushed through the double doors, and stepped into the hallway. He didn’t take another breath until he heard the doors behind him close.
“This is just great,” he growled, stepping back over to walk through his front door. The first hint of dawn was already breaking through the morning sky. He glanced up at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall—5 a.m. Olivia would leave for work in less than two hours, and he’d need a good portion of that time to get the stink off of him. He turned his head and sniffed his shoulder in hopes the smell wasn’t as bad as he thought—it was worse. “Dammit,” he snarled, pulling off his clothes. He threw them straight into the trash, double bagged them, and tossed the garbage sack out the front door. It landed with a thud and rolled clumsily down the front steps, resting on the sidewalk.
The Redemption Series Page 3