Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series)

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Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series) Page 5

by Price, Melynda


  “Thank you,” she whispered, still standing there—watching him.

  Dammit, Olivia, leave! Now! Before it’s too late!

  What in the hell was she trying to do, torture him to death? Or perhaps tempt him into shaming himself by tossing his last bit of integrity out the window by taking another man’s woman? Yeah, that’d just about do it, and when he was finished, he could punch his ticket straight into Hell.

  “Liam?”

  Abruptly, he stood. Turning away from her, he snarled, “Olivia, please! Go get dressed!”

  She gasped. “I’m sorry!”

  The unmistakable brokenness in her voice shattered his heart. Running back into the bathroom, she slammed the door, trapping half her train beneath it. She must have given the dress a hard tug, because it quickly disappeared.

  Liam took a deep breath and prayed for strength as he ran his hands through his hair. Clearly, she overestimated him and his ability to restrain himself. Couldn’t she see he was trying to do the right thing here?—and it was killing him.

  Chapter Five

  “Are you sure they headed north?” Rowen asked, casting a sideways glare at Haden from the front passenger seat. Perhaps this tracker wasn’t all he was cracked up to be, after all. They’d been driving all night, and now, the first colors of dawn were beginning to break across the eastern sky. They were tired—cranky—and he needed to take a piss like you wouldn’t believe.

  “I’m sure,” Haden growled. “Just be patient. I’m not a damn psychic. They didn’t have that much of a jump on us. He must have stopped with her somewhere. Their trail’s gone cold.”

  “Great!” Cale complained from the back seat. “So we’re turning back?”

  “Wow, you sure have an astute one here, Rowen.” Haden nodded his head toward Cale. “What do you suggest?” Without warning, Haden slammed on the brakes, sending the car fish-tailing to a screeching halt. The rapid deceleration had them all eating dashboard and headrests. Haden turned to look at Cale, his pale green eyes boring into the demon with soulless contempt. “Would you prefer that we stop here and hope the warrior will come to us? Because I can guarantee you, we’ll be waiting here until Hell freezes over! Unlike you, he isn’t an idiot.”

  Cale didn’t reply, and Rowen was sure that had been the only reason the dumbass’ teeth were still in his head. He didn’t like Haden any more than his legion did—didn’t trust the broody bastard, either, but that didn’t mean Haden wasn’t dangerous as hell. Pushing the tracker’s buttons probably wasn’t the smartest move. You didn’t get to be Gahn’s right hand man by being a fuck-up. Interpretation: tread carefully, but don’t be a pussy. This Nephilim would smell fear a mile away, and just like any true predator, he’d strike to kill.

  “There was an exit about forty miles back. Let’s turn around and grab a bite to eat,” Rowen grumbled. “I’ve had just about all I can take of being crammed in this car with you assholes.” He was the one in charge here. This was his legion, and if Haden continued to undermine his authority, things were going to get serious—quick.

  Haden shot Cale one last I’m-gonna-rip-your-head-off glare before turning the car around to head back the way they’d just come. Note to self: The next time you accept an assignment from the Dark Court, take the time to learn everything you can about your crew.

  ***

  “When are we leaving?” Olivia asked, stepping out of the bathroom as she towel-dried her hair.

  Liam stood with his back to her, staring out the window. “As soon as you’re ready to go,” he replied, not bothering to turn around. The unmistakable hauntedness in his whiskey smooth voice made her heart ache. God help her, she loved him, and didn’t that just make her feel like the worst person ever, because her fiancé was probably sitting at home right now worried sick about her.

  She sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her. “Well, I’ll be ready in a few minutes. I just have to finish my hair,” she said, standing in front of the mirror, combing out her tangled black mane. “Have you decided where we’re going?” She watched him from his reflection in the mirror.

  Finally, he turned toward her. “Vegas.”

  Olivia froze, the comb paused halfway through her hair. “Vegas?”

  “Yeah.” He walked up behind her and their eyes locked in the mirror. “It’s far enough from here and easier to hide you there.” Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out the necklace he’d given her for her eighteenth birthday, letting the heavenly stone fall from his hand as the chain dangled on his finger.

  “My necklace! Oh Liam, when did you grab it?” She lifted her hair up, a silent request for him to put it on her.

  He bent down, placing the exquisite heart-shaped jewel around her neck. She watched their reflection in the mirror as he bent, hovering close to her neck to fasten the clasp. “I took it from your jewelry box right before we left.” His breath whispered against her neck, skating into the V of her cleavage. “It’s not wise to leave such a precious stone unattended.” A pained expression crossed his face a moment before he turned away, putting that infuriating distance between them again. “I’m going to check us out while you finish getting ready.”

  Olivia nodded her head, unable to speak past the lump in her throat as she watched him walk out the door.

  ***

  Liam entered the office and scanned the display of roadmaps on the wall, taking his time and needing some space after being cooped up in that tiny room with Olivia all night. Spending the next twenty-eight hours in a car, traveling across the United States with that woman, was going to be nothing short of pure torture. God knows, he loved her—now more than ever. Seeing her again in this dimension brought back all those memories—all those stolen moments. That forbidden rush of desire hit him with such force he could hardly breathe around her. At least when he was heavenly, he had a buffer. He couldn’t speak to her, smell her, be with her…

  “Lookin’ for one in particular?” the man at the desk asked, yanking Liam from his thoughts.

  “No. Just stretching my legs.”

  “Where you headed?”

  “Why do you ask?” Liam countered the man’s question with one of his own. He couldn’t lie, but sure as hell wasn’t about to tell the guy where he was taking Olivia.

  “No reason. It’s just not very often a beautiful woman in a wedding dress comes through here. I figured you must be on the way to your honeymoon or something. But then I noticed you weren’t wearing a wedding ring, and then you wouldn’t give me any ID. So, I have to ask myself,” the old man paused before continuing, his arm moving behind the counter almost imperceptibly. “Is that little lady here with you willingly?” he asked point blank.

  Liam had to stop himself from laughing. That old coot was sharper than he’d given him credit for, and by the look in that guy’s cataract-grayed eyes, he didn’t intend to let Liam leave with Olivia until he was satisfied she hadn’t been abducted.

  Liam smiled. “Calm down now, old man,” he said smoothly. “Let’s not do anything here you’re going to regret. The lady is with me willingly. I’m just helping her out of a tough spot.”

  The guy eyed Liam warily, clearly not yet convinced.

  “You’re more than welcome to talk to her, if you’d like.”

  He gave a gruff nod of his head. “Let’s go talk to your lady friend.” Walking around the corner of the desk, the man made no effort to hide the gun tucked in the back of his jeans.

  Liam led the way to their room, and the old man followed behind him. Knocking softly on the door, he called, “Olivia, it’s me. Open up.”

  The door opened and her eyes immediately fell on his sidekick. “This is the motel manager. He saw me carry you in last night and was afraid I’d brought you here against your will.”

  “What?” She looked from Liam to the manager. “Oh, well…thank you for your concern,” she said, “but I’m not with him against my will. In fact, I can’t think of any other place I’d rather be right now.
” Olivia’s eyes locked on Liam’s. Unspoken words passed between them that he heard loud and clear.

  “All right then,” the old man grumbled as he turned to walk away. “Just makin’ sure everything’s on the up and up.”

  Liam stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Sorry about that. I just figured it’d be easier to appease him than deal with the police.”

  “Oh, I understand. I think it’s kinda sweet the old guy cares.”

  “Yeah, he cares enough to pack a .38 Special,” he grumbled. “If he isn’t more careful about winging that thing around, the old fool’s gonna get himself killed. Are you ready for some breakfast? There’s a diner a few miles from here on the way to the freeway.”

  “Sure, I’m starved.”

  He turned to leave. His hand was on the door when she called his name.

  Stopping, he glanced back at her and saw her bottom lip caught nervously between her teeth. He knew she wanted to say something by the flicker of her apprehension fluttering in his chest.

  “I meant what I said.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?” he asked.

  Her small hand grabbed ahold of his wrist, sending a jolt of heat racing up his arm. His gaze locked on hers, measuring her reaction. Did she feel it, too?

  “About not wanting to be any other place but here—with you.”

  Aw hell... If he didn’t walk away right now, there was a pretty good chance he’d do something they’d both regret. “We’d better go,” he replied more gruffly than intended. Pulling out of her grasp, he grabbed her bags and walked away.

  ***

  As Mitch rolled onto his back, he let out a miserable groan. His head throbbed, and the room spun as waves of nausea hit him like a surging tide. Leaning over the edge of his bed, he grabbed the waste basket and emptied his stomach. “Oh God…” he groaned, flopping back onto his pillow once the dry heaves passed.

  The soft tapping on his bedroom door resonated like a battering ram in his brain. He groaned again, pressing his hands against his temples to keep his head from exploding. “Go away…”

  “Mitch?” Ashley’s soft voice boomed in his liquor-sodden mind. “Are you okay?” She opened the door a crack and poked her head inside.

  “I’m anything but okay. What are you doing here?” He lifted his head and squinted at the alarm clock. “It’s like…9 a.m.”

  “I know what time it is.” She marched into his bedroom and yanked the blinds open, bathing him in torturous rays of sunshine. She hiked the window up, complaining, “Geeze, Mitch, it reeks like rotten whiskey in here.”

  “I know,” he moaned, lying flat on his back, arms stretched out beside him. “Hence the puke bucket,” he said, pointing toward the trash can beside his bed.

  “Come on, Mitch. Olivia would be so pissed off if she saw you right now. Does she know you drink like this?”

  Ignoring her question, he squinted up at her and grumbled, “Have you been here all night?”

  Ashley nodded. “Nate left a couple hours ago. He had to get to work. I’d already taken the day off, ‘cause I figured I’d be the one puking my guts out this morning.”

  When Ashley walked past his bed, he caught her wrist. “Ash?”

  She visibly tensed, her beautiful face pinched into a scowl. Softening his grip, he gently pulled her toward him. She took a reluctant step back and plopped down beside him on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m really sorry about last night. I was profoundly drunk, but not so drunk that I don’t remember being a total ass to you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m really, truly sorry. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

  Sighing, she turned to look at him. The sun shining in through his open window lit up her golden curls like a halo. Wow… She really was gorgeous. Nate was one stupid bastard for letting her go.

  “I know you wouldn’t,” Ashley replied.

  He wasn’t sure if she really meant it, or if she was just appeasing him. Tension radiated from the stiff set of her shoulders and the tight set of her mouth that was usually smiling—but not this morning.

  Ashamed of himself, he looked down and noticed the bandage on her palm. “What happened to your hand?” He turned her wrist to look more closely at the crimson-stained gauze.

  “It’s nothing…” She made a move to stand, but Mitch tugged her back down, refusing to release her wrist.

  “It’s not ‘nothing,’ Ash. You cut your hand. Let me see it,” he said, scooting up in bed to get a better look.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine now.” Impatience clipped her tone as she pulled her hand back, yanking harder this time. Reluctantly, he released her. She was pissed—not that he blamed her. He’d acted like a real ass. “You cut yourself on that glass I broke last night, didn’t you?”

  Ashley didn’t answer.

  “I’m sorry…” Before Ashley could move away, he caught her wrist again and dipped his head, gently placing a kiss near the bandage.

  Her frown deepened. Mitch wasn’t sure why he kissed her. He knew he was only making a bad situation worse.

  Ashley jumped up from the bed as if her ass was on fire. “I’ll go turn on the shower for you. You stink,” she grumbled, walking into his bathroom.

  Aw hell… Mitch lay there a few more minutes, fighting back another wave of nausea. The hiss of the shower started with a blast. He lifted his head, trying to get up, but the moment he moved... Throwing back the covers, he rolled over the edge of the bed and hurled into the waste basket again.

  ***

  Ashley was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee when Mitch dragged himself into the kitchen. His dark blond hair was wet and tousled. He wore a day’s growth of beard on his square jaw, which would have looked sexy if it weren’t for his bloodshot eyes.

  He looked like a hung-over surfer, she decided—one who hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt. “You look like hell,” she said, getting up from her chair to pour him a cup of coffee.

  Mitch plopped down at the table and grumbled, “I feel worse than that. Thanks, though,” he added dryly, taking the cup from her and bringing it up to his lips. “You really know how to make a guy feel better.”

  “It’s a gift...” she replied off-handedly.

  “I’m glad my pain is a source of amusement for you,” he grouched, casting her a sideways glance. “But seriously, Ash, thanks for staying last night. I didn’t deserve it after the way I acted.”

  “You remember, huh?”

  “Not all of it, but enough…”

  “Well, stop beating yourself up. Are you always so hard on yourself?” She and Mitch had been friends for a long time, not nearly as long as her and Olivia, but friends nonetheless. She thought she knew the guy. Then again, he’d just been jilted at the altar, so she should probably cut him some slack.

  “Only when I yell at my friends and throw things like a little kid.”

  Ashley burst into a laugh. She hadn’t expected him to say that.

  He chuckled. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure—” She got up and poured herself another cup of coffee, a little uneasy at the sudden seriousness of his tone, “—after you go get dressed.” The last thing she needed was for someone to stop by and find her and Mitch here alone like this. At this, he cocked a grin, leaving her reeling as his emotions seemed to swing from one extreme to the next.

  “Why? Do I distract you?”

  Mitch had always been a flirt. She just wasn’t expecting it on the dawn of his being jilted at the altar. “If by ‘distract’ you mean inappropriately half-dressed, then ‘yes.’ It doesn’t look good with me here and you running around nearly naked.”

  “Fine,” he conceded. “I’ll be right back.” Mitch scooted his chair back and shuffled up the stairs.

  As he dressed, Ashley continued to replay yesterday’s events over and over in her head. At some time during the night, she’d come to the conclusion that Liam must have taken Olivia. It was the only possible explanation she could thin
k of that would make Olivia want to bail on her own wedding. She felt bad for Mitch and wasn’t sure how much she should tell him about Olivia’s past. She wasn’t too pleased with her friend for the way she left things. Didn’t Olivia realize what she was putting him through?—putting her parents through? It all just felt wrong, and incredibly selfish.

  Mitch came back into the kitchen wearing a black performance t-shirt. “Better…?”

  “Yeah, thanks. Now at least if someone stops by, they won’t think I’m here as your rebound lay.”

  Mitch laughed. “My what?”

  “Rebound lay,” Ashley repeated.

  “Ash, I seriously doubt that you’d ever be anybody’s rebound anything.”

  “You’re right, I wouldn’t, but people still talk. So, what was it you wanted to ask me?” She waited patiently as Mitch took another sip of his coffee.

  “Will you please tell me what you know about Olivia? I know you know something, because you’re not nearly as freaked out as the rest of us, and honestly, you’re not acting very surprised, either. There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

  Ashley wasn’t sure what to say to Mitch. She honestly believed he deserved to know the truth. She exhaled a big sigh, hoping she wouldn’t regret what she was about to do, but after three years, it was time someone told him the truth.

  “What has Olivia told you about her past, Mitch?” Hopefully, he knew something that could give her a starting point.

  “Nothing. She’s always been extremely private. As far as I know, I’m the first boyfriend she’s had. But I know that can’t be true. Look at her, she’s gorgeous.”

  Well…shit. This was going to be about as fun as a trip to the dentist without Novocain. Maybe Olivia would be pissed as hell at her for this, but dammit, she should have told Mitch the truth—like two years ago. They were getting married, for crissake! ‘Till death do us part’ and all that crap. “This is very complicated, Mitch, and at first, I’m sure you’re going to have difficulty believing me, but what I’m going to tell you is the absolute truth.”

 

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