The Redemption Series

by Melynda Price

  The tension in the house had thankfully dissipated when Haden became well enough to leave. He’d moved into the house across the street to be close if she needed him, without both males tripping over each other. Good thing there had been a close vacancy because Liam would never have stood for him moving in. And considering Haden couldn’t block her sight, she didn’t think she could stand it, even if those two could manage to live together without killing each other. Kyro had become a great adjunct to her security. He’d more than proven his worth the night that Correan had attacked her, and Liam said he’d much rather share his home with ten hell-hounds than live with one Nephilim.

  “You still haven’t answered me.”

  Liam turned from the mirror and prowled toward her, clad only in a bath towel wrapped loosely around his lean hips. The way he moved—lithe and fluid—made her pulse quicken. Hunger radiated from his sapphire stare, warning her of his intent—distract and conquer. That he didn’t speak confirmed, he was keeping something from her. To her very soul, she knew it to be true.

  He reached out and pulled her into his arms. If the wounds pained him, he gave no indication of it. She felt a small measure of comfort that at least he wasn’t suffering. “That’s because I’m not interested in talking right now.”

  Of course, he wasn’t. That would mean he’d have to tell her what in the hell was going on with him. Before she could protest, he lowered his head and captured her lips. His kiss intoxicated her, the way his scent infused her lungs, the way his mouth fit against hers so perfectly…

  Unable to help herself, she slipped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers into his overgrown hair, returning his kiss with equal ardor. She never got tired of the way he felt against her. It was like he’d been created just for her—a perfect fit.

  But sadly, she knew that wasn’t true, and the reality of it kept her from going down the road this kiss was quickly leading them. Maybe he sensed her hesitancy, because, with startling speed, he swept her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. As he deposited her on the bed, he followed, blanketing her with his half-clad body. He allowed no break in contact as he settled over her, using just enough of his weight to pin her to the mattress.

  Perhaps he knew if he gave her mouth a measure of space, she’d be forcing a conversation he obviously didn’t want to have. Coming from a very limited knowledge of male behavior, in general, Olivia wondered if every male thought sex was somehow the magical answer to all of life’s problems. Were that it was only true…

  Slipping her hands between them, she was careful to avoid the claw marks on his chest as she pushed him back and turned her head, breaking their kiss. “Liam, this is serious. Sex is not going to fix this.”

  She wasn’t strong enough to hold him back as he leaned forward and ducked his head, kissing her neck. Reaching down, he slipped his hand between them and tugged his towel free, dropping it on the floor.

  Oh mercy… She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the sight, the feel, of his magnificent body. Every bit of him was hard, flesh-covered steel that turned her molten beneath him.

  “Maybe not,” he whispered, his teeth grazing the lobe of her ear. “But it certainly can’t hurt.” He yanked the tie of her new terry robe free and hastily shoved it off her shoulders, bearing her flesh to his devouring sapphire gaze.

  “Liam, I think you’re missing my point.” The breathy objection lacked the conviction she truly wanted him to stop.

  He shifted above her, using his knees to wedge her legs farther apart. “Perhaps I’d rather give you my point, instead,” he growled huskily.

  Disregarding her feeble protest, he swiftly entered her, seating himself against her core. A startled gasp broke through her parted lips, and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stifle her exhaled groan of pleasure. He flashed her a sexy white-toothed grin, ripe with pure male satisfaction and said, “Something tells me, you’re going to appreciate my point more than I’m going to appreciate yours.”

  True enough. “Okay, you win. You can go first.”

  Sometimes there was victory in concession...

  Olivia rallied her nerve and lifted her head from Liam’s chest, not sure if she was ready to see the results of the theory she’d put to the test. She looked at his neck and scowled at the crimson-colored love bites. They shouldn’t still be there. She’d hoped the un-healing claw marks had been the result of the Correan’s poisoning. Since their blood was toxic, it stood to reason that their scratch or bite might be, as well. Olivia was desperate for some explanation—any explanation—to explain Liam’s failure to heal. Since the marks she’d put on his neck hadn’t even begun to fade, she knew her Correan theory was a failure.

  Olivia watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Even at rest, tension bracketed his mouth. He looked…tired. Loathe to disturb him, she snuggled back in, using his shoulder for a pillow. The last time he’d ran his body into exhaustion, it’d taken him three days to recharge, and she dearly hoped this was not going to be the case again.

  Granted, there was a lot she didn’t understand about angel physiology, but she knew his body operated on supernatural energy. He had no true need for food or drink; it was for pleasure that he did so at all. What he needed was the connection to his Creator’s life-force, and his delay in healing suggested to her Liam’s energy was running dangerously low.

  His breaths were slow and shallow, with long periods of pause. Olivia scooted lower and settled her cheek over his heart, exhaling a sigh of relief at the bradycardic rhythm. A soft rumble of laughter echoed against her ear.

  “Afraid you broke me again, love?”

  “That’s not funny,” she chided, propping her chin on his uninjured peck and glaring at him. “I’ve done it before, and Niall took great pleasure in making sure I didn’t forget it, either.”

  “I told you before you didn’t break me, Olivia. I’d just finished sealing a breech in Landaketa’s wall. It took a lot of energy to do it. I was tired.”

  “You’re tired now, Liam. And I’m worried. You can’t keep going on like this. You’re not healing. It’s like every day a little more of your energy is draining away.”

  He watched her for a moment, his face void of all emotion. She began to wonder if he was going to answer, when he finally asked, “Is it that obvious?”

  “Yes, it is. You’ve got a gash in your chest that won’t heal. It’s kinda hard not to notice. I thought we were done keeping secrets, Liam. Now, tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’m weakening.”

  She’d all but figured that, but somehow, it didn’t make his admission any easier to hear.

  “Now I know what keeps the angelic from living in this realm. We simply will not be allowed to exist here.”

  What? Of all the things she’d expected him to say, this certainly had not been it. That all-too-familiar dread swiftly returned to choke her, cutting off her air. This couldn’t be happening. After everything, they’d been through, everything they’d sacrificed to be together…and now this? The universe truly was conspiring against them.

  “How long?” Her voice broke, cutting off the rest of her question.

  Liam reached up and tucked a fallen lock of hair behind her ear. “How long what, sweetheart?”

  “How long have you known? How long do you have left? I don’t know, just…how long, dammit!” Her voice rose in desperation, her mind reeling with panic. Oh God, help her…she was going to lose him.

  “Since I got back from court.”

  What. The. Fuck? Seriously?!

  “And I don’t know how much time I have left. At this rate, maybe a few more weeks.”

  “And then what? You just die? This doesn’t make any sense, Liam. How Haden can live here and you can’t?”

  “Haden’s humanity makes it possible for him to exist here. His angelic side allows him to travel dimensions. It’s partly what makes him so powerful, what will make our child powerful.”

  “But you’ve been h
ere before, and for longer amounts of time than this.”

  “I wasn’t cast out then, Olivia. I’ve been cut off from my Creator, and as long as I stay in this realm, my energy can’t replenish.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “Niall has petitioned the court that I be transferred under his command.”

  “So what does that mean? Why would he do that?”

  “I suspect he’s concerned that if I fall from grace, I will lose the anointing that sustains Landaketa. If the walls of that world comedown, Rebecca and Henry will die, and Niall’s legion will lose their sanctuary.”

  Olivia gasped. The thought of something happening to Rebecca and Henry made her heart sicken with dread. “Is he right? Could that happen?”

  Liam pinched the bridge of his nose as if attempting to stave off a headache. “Yes, it will. If I swear fealty to the Rogues, I’ll retain my angelic status and the power to keep Landaketa protected.”

  That sounded like a simple enough solution. So why did Liam look so torn over it? “This is your loophole then, a way to keep your right-standing with the High Court. Why don’t you seem very pleased by this?”

  “A Rogue’s life is not conducive to having a mate or raising a family, Olivia. Rogues are supernatural hunters that protect the realm between Heaven and Hell—the realm you see in. They’re demon hunters who keep the world safe from blood-drinkers and shape-shifters, creatures like the one that attacked you the other night.”

  “You mean the Correan?”

  He nodded. “If I become Rogue, I will be gone more than I am home. How will I protect you? How can I keep you safe when I’m gone? Am I to leave you alone to raise our child?—or God forbid, allow your guardian to do it?”

  He spat “guardian” as if it were a foul taste in his mouth. It all made painfully clear sense to her. Liam was resisting the calling because he didn’t want to be Rogue. He wanted to stay with her and raise their child. And the thought of leaving her with Haden, and allowing the Nephilim to do the job he wanted more than anything, was tearing him apart inside. The bone-deep knowledge he had no choice in the matter was like grinding salt in an open wound.

  Olivia reached out and took his hand, gently sliding her thumb over his still-bruised knuckles. “So then what are we going to do?” The truth of it was, he didn’t have a choice, but pointing that out at the moment didn’t exactly seem helpful.

  Exhaling a frustrated growl, he turned his head and looked at her. “There is nothing I can do, Olivia. It is done. Sephat granted his request in order to keep from declaring me as fallen. I am now under Niall’s rule and am honor-bound to do his bidding. But, since I have not, as of yet, behaved in compliance with the decree, I’ve been cut off from my Creator, and I suspect until I return to Landaketa and swear fealty to Niall’s legion, I shall remain as such. If my energy runs out before I’ve made the vow, I will become eternally fallen. After that, there will be no second chance for redemption.”

  His words slammed into her with wrecking force. She fought against the anger boiling up inside her. She couldn’t believe he’d kept something like this from her all this time. She wanted to rail at him for risking his life, and not following the elder’s decree. But none of that would help matters. It would only push him away when he was clearly struggling to come to grips with what was to be his new life, and the unfortunate role Haden was going to be playing in it.

  “Liam, you know you have to go. You have to go to Landaketa before it’s too late. Meet with Niall and swear your fealty. Then come back and marry me.”

  Olivia knew it wasn’t as simple as she was making it sound, but it’d do no good to bemoan something he had no choice in. She tried to stifle her disappointment at the thought of him leaving again, even if only for a little while. She just wanted to get married and start their life together. But in light of current circumstances, she couldn’t help but wonder if duty would forever force a wedge between them. According to Haden, it would. Liam was trying to live two lives, pulled between two worlds—how could he ever find peace, trying to balance between them both? And what good would it do for her to complain about it? It wasn’t like he wanted to go to Landaketa. In fact, he looked downright miserable about the idea of leaving her.

  “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, Olivia. If you marry me, I will be bringing you to Landaketa with me. You will have to leave everyone you love behind—your parents, your friends, your career…all of it. You’d be giving up everything for me. How can I ask you to do that? If you won’t let me give up my life for you, how can you think I’d let you give up yours for me?”

  “Because this isn’t my salvation we’re talking about here, Liam. There’s a big difference. What were you planning to do? Say nothing to me and let your time run out until you became fallen?”

  “Of course not. When I learned of the decree, I’d just discovered you were pregnant. I wasn’t about to up and takeoff on you. What kind of an ass proposes and bails? And then Haden left so I couldn’t very well leave you alone on the good faith he’d return, now could I?—nor am I thrilled about the idea of leaving you alone with him at all. I’ve been praying for guidance—discernment…”

  Olivia held her breath, not sure she wanted to know the answer. “So what is God telling you?”

  “To go to Landaketa.”

  Then why in the hell was he still here? “Liam, no one wants you to fall. Not your Creator, not the elders, not Niall, and certainly not me. Once we’re married, I will go to Landaketa with you. Will I miss my parents?—dearly. Will I miss my friends?—of course. But nothing could be as painful as losing you again. And I would never keep this child from its father.”

  At her vow, a measure of tension seemed to ease from his hard, rigid body.

  “I know you’re worried about leaving me, but I have Kyro here. And as much as you hate Haden, you know he’ll keep me safe.”

  “Yeah, but who’s going to keep you safe from him?” he growled.

  “Listen, you may not trust him, but you’re going to have to trust me. I love you. Nothing can ever change that. The High Court may have broken our bond, but we’re bound in ways they can never touch. I don’t want you to go, and as much as the thought of you leaving kills me, you need to go—before it’s too late.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The urgency to reach Landaketa pressed in on Liam with each passing hour. He hadn’t expected the weakness to progress so rapidly. He was healing at a human’s pace, the marks on his neck were finally fading, but his chest wounds were festering. Fatigue cloaked him in a blanket of lassitude and every hour his body felt new aches and pains he’d never felt before.

  In essence, he felt…human, and then shuddered at the thought—a wholly unwelcomed experience. He had no doubt his strength would return once he reached Landaketa, it was just the getting there that left him in mounting misery and cursing a blue streak as foul as his mood. He’d waited too long to leave. It took energy to transcend dimensions, precious energy he didn’t have to spare, which was precisely why he was currently flying down a one-lane stretch of back roads of the Mississippi bayou in a black Camaro that had way too low a ground clearance for the terrain he was tackling.

  As he turned down the road that could barely pass for a trail, the overgrowth of weeds and brier clawed at the undercarriage of the car as he maneuvered through pot holes and dodged what appeared to be a suicidal Nutria. The last leg of the drive was dauntingly tedious, but as he rounded the bend, the iridescent wall surrounding Landaketa came into sight and relief washed over him like a soothing balm.

  Unfortunately, that relief was short-lived, because the moment Liam passed through the opalescent barrier, his heart sickened with dread. The lush green grass was now yellowed. Brown patches marred the pasture like age spots on an old woman’s skin. The horses did not race to the fences, welcoming him home. He spotted Jesse in the meadow, head raised, ears alert. But when he stepped forward, there was a notable limp in his rear right
leg. The cool snap in the air, and golden leaves falling from the tress declared it autumn. The only problem was there were no season changes in Landaketa. It was always summer here, the season in which he’d frozen this little chunk of the world in 1864.

  As Liam pulled up to the plantation and exited the car, he could see the paint on the house was cracked with age and peeling, flakes littering the ground like snow that refused to melt. Several shutters hung askew from windows, spidered with fissures.

  He’d taken no more than two steps toward the house when the front door flew open, and a black-winged angel burst forth. The amethyst glare contained none of the welcome Liam had expected at seeing his old friend. Leaping off the porch, the Rogue hit the ground and didn’t even break stride as he charged up to Liam and slammed his fist right into his jaw.

  The blow blackened Liam’s vision and he dropped right there on the driveway. Son of a bitch, that hurt… He tried to lift his head, but everything around him was spinning, his ears were ringing. Over the din, he could have sworn Niall snarled, “You selfish bastard. Where the fuck have you been?”

  Rallying the last bit of strength he had, Liam forced himself to rise, making it no farther than his hands and knees. His movements were slow and purposeful, every action a magnanimous effort.

  “Look at you! How the fuck could you allow this to happen?” Niall growled in disgust.

  Liam’s head was spinning, his vision spotted. Spitting a mouthful of blood onto the white-washed gravel, he canted his head to meet the murderous glare of his friend. Niall bent down and grabbed hold of his shirt, yanking him to his feet.