The Redemption Series

by Melynda Price

  “I hope more capable than you were at keeping your wife alive.” It was a low blow and Liam was a bastard for dealing it. Still, it felt good, even if it was a verbal kick in the balls.

  “You fucking prick!” Haden roared, cranking back his fist and planting it right in Liam’s jaw.

  He didn’t even try to stop the blow, welcoming the lash of pain exploding in his face. It was a pleasant distraction from the knife twisting in his heart.

  When the second blow came, Liam ducked and drove his shoulder into Haden’s chest. The air whooshed from his lungs with a satisfying grunt and they both hit the ground—hard. He wasted no time delivering a rapid succession of blows, one nailing the half-breed in his arrogant mouth and the other splitting the skin above his cheekbone. He desperately needed an outlet to funnel his rage at the High Court’s injustice, and Haden was a damn good proxy.

  True to form, the Neph gave as good as he got. Liam weathered the retaliatory strikes. An up-swung elbow caught him in the jaw, and a well-placed knee drove into his side, cracking a rib or two. He welcomed the pain, a white-wash of sensation that muted the deeper agony in his soul.

  Slowly, he became vaguely aware of shouting—a familiar voice barking his name, sharp and insistent. It was easy to block out, to focus his pent-up energy on beating this half-breed into the ground. With any luck, he wouldn’t rise again. Switching tactics, he grabbed Haden by the neck and began to squeeze, having every intention of amending the error of letting this bastard go when they’d grappled in Vegas.

  But this time there was no fear in Haden’s verdant glare—just a lot of incomprehensible loathing and sadistic satisfaction. It was almost as if the bastard wanted Liam to kill him. Did Haden truly find the High Court’s decree a fate worse than death? Before he could give it any more thought, a forearm slipped around his throat and ripped him off his prey.

  Dammit, Balen… The urge to drive his elbow back and plant it into the warrior’s ribs was a temptation nearly too irresistible. It’d teach his interfering friend a lesson, not that he’d let that stop him.

  Anders rushed forward and grabbed Haden by the scruff of his collar, yanking him off the ground. The angel growled something in his ear and Haden grew still, though his eyes continued to radiate murderous fury. Liam was surprised to see docility come over the hot-headed half-breed. It wasn’t until his gaze dropped that he understood why. Pressed against the Nephilim’s ribs was a six-inch dagger, the blade carved of Immanuel’s Stone. In the light, the onyx rock radiated flecks of dark sapphire, amethyst and jade.

  Balen drug him a short distance away and growled in a hushed voice meant only for his ears. “What in the fuck are you thinking? Listen, I know you’re pissed about this, but you have to admit, she’s safer with Haden as an ally. Even if he isn’t bonded to her, he’s proven he’s capable of protecting her.”

  “What if he is bonded to her?” Liam challenged under his breath, putting voice to his fear tasted like acid on his tongue. Balen’s arched glance confirmed the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same damn thing if this lout were bonded to Ashley.” Liam knew damn well he would. In fact, Balen and Haden had come to blows over that female before. If memory served him correct, it had something to do with an intoxicated Ashley, an Incubus, and Haden saving her from getting marked by the damn beast.

  Balen scowled. “Ashley is no longer my concern.”

  Bullshit. That answer was nothing more than a convenient way to avoid admitting the truth because the angel couldn’t lie. “Guardian or not, you still love her.”

  “This isn’t about me, Liam. This is about you. Do you honestly believe there’s even a snowball’s chance in hell that Neph is bonded to her?” The stony look he gave Balen in response must have said it all. Balen was smart. It took him a whole two seconds to realize exactly what that would mean. “Surely she’s not,” he answered before Liam could respond though he said it with a lot less conviction than he’d belayed a moment ago.

  Liam shrugged. “Guess we’ll never know. The bastard’s not talking.”

  They both cast pointed glares at said bastard and Haden raised his arm, swiping away the blood on his lip with the back of his hand, shooting them a crimson-stained grin. Balen tensed, looking as if he, too, wanted a shot at the Neph. After a moment, Balen gave a flippant wave and said, “Nah…he’s just fuckin’ with you. I know Olivia, and there’s no way in hell she’d ever fall for that piece of shit.”

  Balen was probably right. Yet, something deep inside his gut whispered insidious misgivings to the contrary. He started for the gate when Balen’s announcement stopped him cold. “You can’t leave yet, Liam. Sephat is requesting to see you.”

  Dread turned the blood in his veins to ice. For a moment, he stood there, frozen by indecision—stay or go. “You’re kidding me.”

  “Wish I was.”

  Dammit…as much as he’d love to ignore Sephat’s summons, he simply could not—not without serious repercussions.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out,” Haden offered with a sadistic chuckle.

  The fuck he would. The last thing Liam needed was that bastard to return without him. Who in the hell knew what kind of lies he’d tell her. Perhaps he’d even try to convince her he was bonded to her and manipulate her into believing that she loved him.

  Anders looked to Liam and Balen for direction, silently questioning if he should let the half-breed go or perhaps shank him right where they stood. Liam was all for option two, yet he couldn’t bring himself to give the order that would bring a shit load of heat down on Anders for killing the last surviving Nephilim—and a saved one, at that.

  He gave the warrior a subtle shake of his head, and Anders withdrew the dagger from Haden’s side. “You’re not going anywhere.” Liam told the Neph. “You’re staying here with me.”

  “I’m touched you value my company so much that you’d leave the woman you profess to love unguarded while you deal with your court issues. I, on the other hand, don’t particularly care for you or your hypocritical holier than thou presence. And seeing as how I’m Olivia’s new guardian—bonded or not, wanted or not, I do not answer to you. I’m returning to her as decreed by the High Court, and in light of certain…developments, it seems to me you would not want her left unattended. I have no doubt that even as we speak, the Dark Court is devising a plan to take her. Or perhaps you’ve not yet considered her recent rise in stock?”

  Haden may be an asshole, but he certainly wasn’t a stupid one. He knew just what to say, just how to leverage Liam into backing off. And as much as he hated to do it, as much as he wanted to return to Olivia and discover if Haden’s claim was indeed true, he really had no choice. She was safe with Tate, but she was safer with Haden.

  “That’s what I thought,” Haden smirked. “But don’t worry about us. We’ll make some popcorn, watch chick flicks…braid each other’s hair. She won’t even know you’re gone.”

  A feral growl tore from Liam’s throat. He didn’t realize he’d lunged for the bastard until Balen strong-armed him again.

  “Get him out of here,” Balen barked the order at Anders. The guard grabbed Haden’s arm and hauled him toward the gates. “Do not let him enter again without notifying me,” Balen called after them. “And see to it the guards at the other gates are apprised.”

  Anders nodded as he marched the Nephilim out.

  “Come on,” Balen grumbled, turning toward Liam and throwing a friendly arm over his shoulder. “The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can get back to Olivia.”

  Same old Balen…forever the voice of reason.

  Chapter Seven

  Haden walked through the gates without so much as a backward glance. Those pearly bars opened as he approached, like automatic doors bidding him farewell. The one called Anders stopped at the entrance, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword—a nonverbal warning to keep on walking. You’re not wanted here.

  Across from him stood his co
unterpart. There was no fear in the angel’s eyes—no warmth, either. Did they expect him to lay siege against them?—attack their Holy Land right here and now? Or was this how they treated all outsiders?—with suspicion and unwelcoming.

  Not that it mattered. He had no intention of coming back here. He knew when he wasn’t wanted. The problem was, until today, it hadn’t really bothered him all that much.

  “See ya, boys,” he snarked with a fuck-off wave that posted his middle finger on display. Sucking on his bottom lip, he ran his tongue over the cut, testing the tender spot. The coppery tang confirmed it was still bleeding. That he could feel his heartbeat in his cheek told him, he’d be wearing that mark for the next day or two. He healed fast, but that didn’t mean he was immune to injury.

  He suspected Liam would bear his own evidence of their little skirmish, and wondered how he’d explain his shiner to the court when he got back. Would they care if he killed Olivia’s newly appointed guardian? Guardian…hell, just thinking the word made his gut twist.

  When he’d walked out her door, he had every intention of never going back. She’d made herself abundantly clear where things stood between them. Even if she weren't in love with Liam, she wouldn’t be with him. He was just too broken, and fuck if that wasn’t the truth of it. He was damaged—irreparably. He couldn’t deny it. Yet he’d offered to try for her, try to be a better person, because deep down he knew she was his only hope of ever healing. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough—and he never would be.

  Now that the court had saddled him with her guardianship, he undeniably knew the truth of her claim, and he wished to God he didn’t. Perhaps there had been a time when he would have wanted to know if somewhere, deep down, she loved him. But that all changed the minute she conceived Liam’s child. She truly belonged to him now and there was no sense thinking about what would never be.

  Bottom line, they were stuck with each other, at least until the High Court saw fit to relieve him of his duty, or Liam killed him, and by the look in that angel’s eyes, the latter was more likely to happen first. The idea of tabling his plans of hunting down Gahn sat ill with him. Every moment that bastard was allowed to draw breath he remained a formidable threat to Olivia and her young. Haden had no doubt the Dark Court knew of her quickening that the sadistic prick wouldn’t have kept her alive for any other reason. Haden knew all too well the workings of Gahn’s sick and twisted mind. The discovery of a new life budding inside her womb would birth new possibilities—possibilities of rising up another Nephilim for the Dark Court. Only this one would be more powerful than even he, for surely the young would inherit its mother’s gift of Sight.

  Heaven help them all…

  “I think I might be pregnant.”

  Ashley froze her eyes growing wide over the cup of tea she held to her lips. She must have swallowed wrong because she promptly began coughing. Earl Grey splashed over the rim, burning her hand. She swore between her coughing fits and set the mug on the table.

  Grabbing a hand-towel from the drawer, Olivia set it on the table and began to pat her friend’s back. “Put your arm up,” she instructed, trying not to laugh at the unexpected reaction. It truly wasn’t funny. Well, maybe it was a little bit.

  “What did you say?” she demanded. It didn’t take her friend more than a minute to recover from her aspiration before the barrage of questions began. “How do you know? Are you sure? Is it Liam’s?—of course it’s Liam’s. Does he know? What are you gonna do?” She paused long enough to draw another breath and then started in again. “Do your parents know? Are you excited?”

  Now, this was more like the reaction she’d been expecting. Olivia weathered the storm of questions with patience born from a lifetime of friendship. Best friends since kindergarten and there had never been a more unlikely pair. Where Olivia was sensible, predictable, and introverted, Ashley, on the other hand, was an impulsive, reckless partier.

  More than once her friend’s tendency toward self-destructive behavior had gotten her into trouble. But when her poor judgment began pitting her against Balen, her guardian, he’d made the very difficult decision to step away. He blamed himself for her recklessness—which truly wasn’t his fault, but angel guilt was a tricky thing.

  Olivia didn’t exactly know all the details surrounding that night, but after a rather heated exchange between the two—and knowing Ashley, by heated it was likely the physical sort—she’d gone out to a bar and made some mistakes that had nearly gotten her killed. She most certainly would have, too, if Haden hadn’t come to her rescue—an unlikely savior, that, considering those two hated each other. She still couldn’t believe he’d saved her life. Those two were like oil and water, and they took every opportunity to remind each other of their intense level of loathing for the other.

  As Ashley’s prattling began to wane, Olivia chanced an interjection. “I said I think I might be pregnant, Ash, not that I am.”

  “Well, how can you not know? Take a test, for crissake!”

  “I have. Many of them. They all say I’m not.”

  “Then you’re not.” She shrugged the issue good as dead, far as she was concerned. “What in the hell were you getting me worked up for then? I need a glass of wine. You want a glass?”

  “No, thanks.” She shook her head. It was a tempting offer, be she wouldn’t risk it. Just in case the tests were wrong.

  Ashley abandoned her cup of tea and helped herself to the wine rack. After selecting a merlot, she pulled open the utensil drawer and began combing through it.

  “It’s not in there. Check the drawer to the right.”

  Finding the wine bottle opener, Ashley stuck the screw into the cork and began twisting as she went on. “So tell me, why do you think you might be pregnant?”

  Olivia watched her friend from the kitchen table, not exactly sure how to say it without throwing Ashley into another tizzy. When she didn’t answer, Ashley shot her a quick glance over her shoulder before taking hold of each metal wing and pushing them down, forcing the cork halfway out of the bottle. She pulled up, but the cork didn’t release.

  “Well, Liam and I have…you know, been together—a lot.”

  Ashley stopped tugging on the opener and turned to look at her. “And you haven’t been protecting yourself?”

  Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She wasn’t used to talking about these things, even with her best friend. She looked away, focusing on her now cold cup of tea. She was private, always had been. Ashley was the over-sharer in this relationship—not her.

  “Well…no. It wasn’t like we planned for it to happen, Ash. And I’m not taking anything. I never had any reason to. I’m pretty sure when Liam was planning my rescue from Haden, stopping at the 7-11 for a box of condoms wasn’t on his to-do list.”

  Ashley snorted an unfeminine laugh and grabbed the bottle, wedging it between her knees for better leverage. “Maybe it should have been.”

  “I’m not sure if Liam even believes in using birth control.”

  “You don’t know!?”

  The cork released with a loud pop.

  “You’re not helping, you know.”

  Ashley filled her glass before carrying it, and the bottle, over to the table. “I’m sorry,” she said, sitting back down. “It’s just…I’m no good at being on this side of things. Usually, we’re talking about me.” She took a big sip and sat the glass on the table as if, now finally, she was prepared to give Olivia her undivided attention. “All right, let’s think this through. So, you had unprotected sex—.“

  Olivia winced and added, “A lot.”

  “—Okay, a lot. What else? Why do you think you’re pregnant when your tests are negative?”

  “I’m nauseated all the time, and it’s worse in the mornings—.”

  “You get car sick and you just got back from traveling across the country.”

  “And I’m late—.”

  “You’re irregular. So does that even count? Who’s to say what’s late wit
h you?”

  If it was just those things she, too, might believe she was just overacting. Taking a deep breath, Olivia confessed on an exhale, “Haden told me I was pregnant.”

  Ashley’s delicately arched brows rose in surprise, her beautiful face puckering in disgust. “How would he know? Who in the hell does he think he is, anyway? Dr. Ruth?”

  Olivia knew how it sounded—crazy. Hearing the words out loud, she couldn’t believe she’d said them. “I don’t know how he knew. He just…did.”

  “Well, there’s your problem—” Ashley chugged down half the glass before continuing. “—believing a single word that comes out of that slimy bastard’s mouth. You of all people should know he can’t be trusted, Olivia. For crissake, he killed Mitch and abducted you! If you ask me, the only thing you’ve conceived is an addled mind. I can’t believe you’re falling for Haden’s lies. Do yourself a favor and—.”

  Ashley’s cell rang, cutting her off. They both glanced down at her iPhone sitting on the table. Nate’s picture filled the screen. He was kissing Ashley’s cheek and she was laughing. They both looked fairly shit-faced.

  “Great ringtone, Ash.”

  “Isn’t it? I love Teach Me How to Dougie!”

  Okay, clearly sarcasm was lost on her. Perhaps she wasn’t the only addled one in this friendship. Olivia nodded toward the phone. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “No, not at all.” Honestly, she was more than glad for the distraction. Every minute that passed, Olivia felt more and more the fool for thinking Ashley might actually understand what she was going through. It pained her to think that after all these years, they may be growing apart from a life-long friendship.

  “Dead? It won’t start at all?” Ashley exhaled an impatient sigh and mouthed the word “sorry.”

  It was fine. Truth be told, this conversation wasn’t going the way she’d hoped, anyway. She could use some time alone to think. Tate wouldn’t be back for a few more hours. A hot bath and an iced tea sounded a lot more therapeutic right now than this.