“You’re having that nightmare again, aren’t you?” She’d been having the same dream for the past three nights. This made it the fourth, and most certainly not the last.
She nodded.
“You’re dreaming of Haden.” It wasn’t a question, and God help him if she denied it. Olivia went stone cold in his arms, even her breath on his neck ceased. Fuck…
After a moment, she drew back and looked at him, fear and uncertainly shadowing her eyes. No doubt his were throwing off emerald sparks right about now, but he was helpless to stop it and just pissed off enough not to care. Even when that bastard was gone, he was still here, haunting her.
“Why do you think that?” she asked hesitantly.
Not exactly an admission, yet not a denial—clever. Answering a question with a question...that was the same damn trick he used when he didn’t want to tell her the truth because he couldn’t lie. “Because you’re withdrawing, and every time you do it, it’s because of him.”
“It’s not like that, Liam.”
The hell it wasn’t. She was keeping something from him. In all fairness, it wasn’t like he didn’t have secrets of his own, but they weren’t talking about him right now, were they? And why tell her something that would only make her fret. His honesty-avoidance was for her own benefit, certainly not his. “If it’s not, then tell me about your dream,” he challenged.
Exhaling a frustrated sigh, she rolled away, giving him her bare back. “If I told you, then you would get the wrong idea. Either that or you’d think I was nuts.” She socked her pillow a couple of times to fluff it before flopping her head backdown. “It was just a dream. Let it go.”
“You don’t believe that anymore than I do.” As much as he wished it true, it simply wasn’t. That she was having these recurrent nocturnal visions meant one of two things. Either A: Their child would be born with a strong gift of prophesy and until it was born, Olivia would experience the child’s supernatural ability or B: Olivia was bonded to Haden.
That thought set his teeth on edge. Perhaps if she’d tell him what the fuck she was dreaming, he’d have a better idea which of the two they were dealing with here. Exercising restraint he wasn’t feeling, Liam laid his hand on her shoulder and gently rolled her back to face him. Tempering his voice, he said, “I don’t think you’re crazy, Olivia. Admittedly, I’m less than thrilled that you’re dreaming about Haden, but perhaps there’s a reason for it. Each Nephilim is born with a supernatural gift. Perhaps our child will be prophetic. It’s not unheard of for a mother to bear her child’s gift during pregnancy. Tell me your dream. Maybe I can help you understand it.”
Her reluctance to confide in him frayed his already strained nerves, dread crystallizing the blood in his veins.
“Do you know where he is?”
Liam nodded. He did, but he’d be damned if he were going to tell her. She didn’t need one more thing to worry about.
“Do you know that he left because I asked him to go?”
No. He did not. Why would she do that?
“You’re scowling. I thought you’d be happy I asked him to leave.”
Happy? He wasn’t happy. The only reason Olivia would ask Haden to go was if she had feelings for him. Yeah, option B was barreling down on him like a fucking freight train.
“That’s not why Haden left, Olivia.”
“What do you mean? Why else would he just take off like that?”
Liam shrugged. He didn’t want to tell her that Haden had left to track down Gahn and discover what the Dark Court knew of her pregnancy and what they might be planning. He also had no intention of telling her that Haden had been due back four days ago, the same night her nightmares had started—coincidence? Liam didn’t believe in coincidences.
“I…I think he’s hurt, or in trouble or something.”
Which was very likely the case, considering everything. “Why do you think that, Olivia?”
She rolled away and sat at the edge of the bed, planting her feet on the floor. Her elbows braced against her thighs as she buried her face in her hands. “I know it sounds crazy, and there’s no possible way it’s true, but it’s like I can sense something is wrong.”
Biting back a snarled curse, he forced his tone to hold steady. “What are you dreaming?”
“I don’t know… It’s dark. I’m in a tunnel, or a secret passage or something. There’s a sharp scent in the air, like burning matches but without the smoke. I’m running... Even though I can’t see, I seem to know where I’m going. Fear is choking me. I can’t breathe. But there are other emotions, emotions that don’t belong to me, like anger, hatred, and rage. They feel like acid poisoning my veins. Someone close by is being tortured, and those horrible sounds are echoing through the tunnel. I want to keep running, but my feet stop as if my body isn’t my own. The desire to turn back, to fight, is overwhelming, but I resist it. The desire is not mine, but an outside emotion fighting to control me. My body is wracked with pain. Weakness has robbed me of my strength. I know if I turnback it will be to my death, so I fight even harder to keep moving forward. Into what, I don’t know. I always wake up before I get there.”
Holy hell… “These emotions, that don’t belong to you, what makes you think they’re Haden’s?”
“I don’t know… Who else’s could they be? They’re dark, and brooding, and hateful. I can’t explain it, and I know it doesn’t make any sense why I should feel this way. I don’t know which is worse, the physical pain or the emotional. Liam, he truly is miserable.”
Liam swung his legs over the side of the bed opposite of her and reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose as he struggled to reign in the emotions rioting inside him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck… Oh, it made sense, all right. It made perfect sense.
“Can you help him?”
Liam tensed as if she’d turned around and stuck a knife into his back. Seriously? How many times was she going to ask him to risk his life for that bastard? And the hell of it was he couldn’t seem to refuse her.
From the sound of her dream, he’d guess Haden was stuck in Sheol. If that was true, and he was injured, Liam would have one hell of a time getting either of them out of there alive. Were he a fully anointed Ronnin warrior, perhaps he’d stand a better chance, but not now—not like this... And every day he delayed here, instead of following Sephat’s decree, was one day he drew closer to death.
Fuck! Had he already said that? Well, the sentiment pretty much summed it all up. “Olivia, I—.”
The doorbell rang, cutting him off. Muttering a ripe curse, he stood and began searching for his pants that should be somewhere in this pile of pillows and blankets that had hit the floor last night.
“I’ll get it,” Olivia volunteered, seeming as anxious to have this conversation over as he was. Slipping into a pair of pajama pants and a tank top, she grabbed her robe off the closet door and nearly bolted from the bedroom.
He probably shouldn’t have let her go. Whoever was at the door could just come back later. Now that they’d hit on the issue they’d both been avoiding for the past month, he should have insisted she stayed and had it out with him. “Olivia, wait!” Where the fuck were his pants?
Olivia didn’t need to be bonded to Liam to know she’d upset him. What the hell did she expect? She’d just told him she was dreaming about another guy, and Haden of all people. Who does that?
Idiot…
In her defense, he’d been rather insistent she confide her nightmare to him. Maybe he was right and their child would have the gift of prophesy. It would certainly explain the dreams and the general feeling of foreboding that seemed to plague her with increasing intensity. What it didn’t explain was why Haden? Why was she thinking about him so much? What connection did she have to him that she just couldn’t seem to let him go?
Olivia hastened her steps as the pounding on the door ramped up, determined and insistent banging. She knew that knock—dammit, Ashley… She glanced at the clock in the living room as she ran by—6 a.
m. What the hell was she doing here this early in the morning? Whatever it was, it better be a damn emergency.
Liam called for her, his frustration making his voice rough and strained. “Don’t answer that door!”
Well, she certainly couldn’t ignore it. And maybe Ashley was in trouble. Who knows, with her anything was possible. Besides, if she went back upstairs right now, she and Liam were going to have to finish what they’d started, and coward that she was, it was a conversation she didn’t want to have.
Pretending she didn’t hear him, she raced for the door before his footsteps echoing overhead caught up with her. In her haste, she didn’t stop to check and make sure it really was Ashley on the other side. A mistake she realized all too soon when she swung the door open and gasped. Her breath froze in her lungs, paralyzed at the sight of Haden standing before her. Standing was a generous word for the way he slumped against the doorframe. His tawny blond hair, weighed down with mud and stained crimson, hung in what little she could see of his face. Head bent forward, his chin rested against his chest that drew sporadic breaths with great effort. Haden’s shirt seemed to expose more of him than it covered, revealing glimpses of bruised and torn flesh.
“Liam!” As she called for help, Olivia grabbed Haden, slipping her arm around his side and bracing her body against his for support. He sucked in a hissing breath through tightly clenched teeth as her shoulder bumped his ribs. “Sorry…” Haden lifted his head just enough to crack open an eye and meet her horrified gaze. “Oh God, where have you been?”
Furious footsteps pounded down the stairs behind them and before he could answer, Liam was on his other side, taking up the bulk of Haden’s weight. A slew of words Olivia could only assume were curses by their harshly growled expletive, sailed off Liam’s tongue in a language she didn’t understand. He moved to usher Haden forward, but a feral, snarling growl behind them stopped them both short.
Slowly, Olivia craned her head around to look behind them and let out a startled yelp. Standing no more than three feet behind them was a monster like nothing she’d ever seen before. Larger than a mastiff, and easily topping two hundred-twenty pounds, was a beast that truly looked like it belonged in the bowels of Hell. Red demonic eyes watched her with a feral intensity that sent her heart rioting inside her chest. Giant fangs hung below the animal’s heavy jowls. His snout, covered in dried blood, curled back to reveal the rest of his teeth as frothy drool dripped onto the cement and splattered between its blood-coated paws—paws that could rival a grizzly.
“What is that thing?” she whispered to Liam, who now was letting go of Haden, to reach around and grab her arm. Her feet barely touched the floor as he pulled her behind him.
“A hell-hound…” he answered, just barely above a whisper, not taking his eyes off of the monster. Without her support, Haden listed to the side and knocked against the door frame. She wasn’t sure how he was even still standing. He didn’t appear to be conscious, but when a pained groan rumbled in his throat, a vicious bark roared behind them, jaws snapping and teeth gnashing as if the beast were giving them hell for letting him fall.
“What’s it doing here?” she wondered aloud.
“I don’t know. It must have followed Haden out of Sheol. Whatever you do, don’t run. Stay behind me and move back very slowly.”
She did as he commanded, too stunned by the beast hovering at her door to do anything else.
“Haden,” Liam snapped his name in a hushed whisper. “There’s a hell-hound behind you. I’m going to pull you inside and then shift outside to kill it. Can you manage to stay on your feet?”
“Don’t touch him,” Haden groaned. He lifted his head, but not without great effort, and took a step inside on his own volition. “He’s mine. Well, now he’s Olivia’s.”
What? “I don’t want him!”
Haden ignored her protest and staggered inside, the giant dog following obediently behind him. “It doesn’t matter. He’s yours. He’ll keep you safe, and I couldn’t leave him in Sheol.”
That was the only explanation she was going to get, because Haden made it as far as the couch before falling into it with a pained grunt. The bloody, drooling beast dropped down on the carpet next to him with a complaining groan, his massive head resting on the floor between his giant paws, smearing slime across her carpet. The animal’s forlorn gaze refused to leave his master and for a brief moment, Olivia almost pitied the thing.
The hell-hound, as terrifying and ugly as it was, clearly loved Haden—imagine that. If she weren't so shocked by his horrible state and grossed-out by his disgusting pet, perhaps she could have found a bit of humor in the irony of it—Haden, hater of all creatures great and small, had a pet dog. Now she’d seen it all…except it wasn’t really his dog, now was it? Apparently that nasty beast now belonged to her.
She cast Liam a worried glance and he held her close behind him, all the while keeping his steely glare locked on the beast that now seemed to be paying neither one of them any attention whatsoever. Were either of them to attempt to approach Haden that might be another issue entirely, but for now he was resting. He was safe and alive. Apparently, that was all the animal cared about.
Chapter Seventeen
After much convincing, Olivia finally persuaded Liam to go to the pharmacy and get her a crap-load of antiseptic wash, ointment, and bandages. Normally, she wouldn’t be so concerned about giving him medical attention, but Haden had been on the couch, unconscious, for the past five hours. She didn’t exactly know what a Nephilim needed to heal, but figured some good old-fashioned western medicine couldn’t hurt.
Her nightmares hadn’t given her a clue as to how Haden had become injured, or how he’d gotten away from Sheol. And although she was glad to learn she wasn’t crazy, that relief was overshadowed by the plaguing question as to why was she sensing him at all? Perhaps Liam was right and their child was going to be a prophet, but even if that was true, it didn’t explain the reverb echoing in her veins. At seeing Haden standing in the doorway, she’d sensed his physical pain, his emotional frustration, and then unwelcomed relief when he’d looked up and locked his eyes on hers. Perhaps their baby was also going to be an empath. She couldn’t even bring herself to consider the alternative.
Exhaling a troubled sigh, she pulled a kettle from the cupboard and carried it into the bathroom. After filling it with hot water, she added some soap and tossed in a washrag. She draped a towel over her shoulder and pulled a pair of scissors from the drawer. Haden was an utter mess. It’d take a long time to get him cleaned and bandaged up. She might as well get started now.
As she approached Haden, the hell-hound lifted its head and pinned her with its crimson glare. She stopped and studied the animal for a moment, trying to decide if she was really going to do this. When she took another cautious step forward, his top lip curled up in warning, revealing grizzly-looking canines. Another step forward courted a low-warning growl from the beast that made the fine hairs on the back of Olivia’s neck standup in alarm.
Putting on a brave front, Olivia scowled back at the dog and said with an authority she did not feel, “Now you stop that, right now. This is my home and I’ll not have you bossing me around in it.” Surprisingly, the hound went silent, though that snarled-up lip didn’t so much as budge. “I know you care about Haden, but I care about him, too. So you’re just going to have to let me near him so I can help him. Okay?” To her amazement, his top lip fell and the animal inched back, making room for her. Not too much, but just enough so that Olivia could kneel next to Haden’s supine, motionless body.
She could feel that predatory glare watching her like a hawk. She kept her movements slow and purposeful so as to not startle the testy beast. “Now, if you bite me, Haden’s going to be very mad at you,” she warned, scolding him with the end of the scissors before slipping them under the hem of his shirt and cutting from his waist to his collar. One sleeve was completely gone, the torn fabric dried stiff with blood and…slobber? “Did you do this
?” she asked the dog, not because she expected him to understand her, but talking seemed to help calm him and it definitely helped her frazzled nerves.
When the animal gave her a sheepish look, she couldn’t help but smile at the hideous beast. Turning back to her task, Olivia tugged the shirt out from under Haden and dropped it onto the floor beside her. Now bare from the waist up, she gasped at the sight of Haden’s chest. His entire right side was dark purple and blue. When he breathed, his chest moved unequally. Olivia lifted her hand to feel the damaged tissue and noticed he was shaking. Gentle as a butterfly’s caress, she ran her fingertips over the injured area, watching Haden’s battered face for any signs of waking.
When he didn’t stir, she touched more firmly, pressing around the darkest areas. His ribs moved, and she could feel the bony prominences beneath his flesh. He winced when she hit what must have been a particularly tender spot, but made no other movement toward arousal.
“Oh, Haden,” she groaned, forcing back the bile surging up her throat. The hell-hound let out a sympathetic whine beside her. Pushing past the churning nausea eating away at her gut, she carefully inspected every bruise, every cut—above the waist, that is. He had several other bruises and multiple lacerations that could benefit from stitching, but none were worse than his ribs.
Once Olivia was satisfied she’d left no injury unnoticed, she went to work cleaning him up. Gently as possible, she washed the dried blood off his face. To her chagrin, she couldn’t help but notice that even battle-scarred and bruised, he was still dangerously handsome. When she finished washing his face, she dropped the rag into the water and pulled the towel from her shoulder. Carefully, Olivia dried his face before slipping her hand behind his head and lifting it toward her. She leaned forward, so intent on working the towel behind his head to clean his hair that she didn’t realize her breasts were in his face until his exhaled breath caressed her exposed cleavage.
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