Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series)

by Price, Melynda

  “What? Mitch, what are you talking about? There is no Balen and me. He’s my guardian, that’s it—”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Ash. I see the way he looks at you, the way he watches you. You know, I asked him if he was in love with you last night.”

  She tensed, and Cale could hear the slightest catch of her breath. “What did he tell you?”

  “Essentially, to fuck off, but he didn’t deny it. Let’s just say, we won’t be exchanging Christmas cards this year.”

  “You don’t have to like him, Mitch. You just have to let him keep you alive.”

  “Something tells me that’s not one of his priorities, Ash.”

  “It is. He’s just still…a bit angry about what happened between us the other night.”

  What happened the other night? Cale wondered, shooting a questioning glance over at Rhen, who shrugged as if to say “How the hell would I know?”

  “Listen, Mitch, we’re in this together. You have me, and I’m not gonna bail. Even if you refuse to ride with me, and I seriously hope you reconsider, I’m following you, whether you want me to or not.”

  When Mitch sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair, Cale knew they’d lost him. “Dammit!” he growled under his breath. “We were so close.”

  ***

  It would be nearly a century before Haden walked back down the Dark Court’s long hall again. During that time, he’d done little more than exist, moving from place to place with no real purpose beyond plotting his revenge. Time was drawing near when he would go back home—back to Hell—and rip Gahn’s heart out just as he had done to him. Unfortunately, today wasn’t going to be that day, but soon…

  The brisk clip of his footsteps resonated down the hall as he placed one determined foot in front of the other. Haden stopped before the double doors and lifted his hand to push them open, but paused when he realized his echoing footsteps hadn’t stopped. Glancing behind him, he looked to see who else was approaching. He strained to see as the flames of sporadic torches wobbled, dimming the dungeon-like hall, proof the disturbance in the air had not been imagined. Still, the sound persisted…growing louder.

  “Señor?” a voice echoed, soft and hesitant.

  Haden tensed, wondering what a young woman would be doing in the bowels of Hell.

  The rapping continued, faster and more determined. “Señor?”

  He strained his eyes, trying to see the female running toward him, his senses lighting up at the fear in her voice. Obviously, the woman knew not who she ran toward, otherwise, she would have most certainly fled the other direction.

  “Housekeeping, Señor.”

  Haden opened his eyes to the distinct click of a metal lock. It took a moment for his mind to clear as his dream-world caught up with reality. The hinges squeaked as the door slowly cracked open. Impulsively, Haden shifted dimensions, blocking the woman’s awareness of his presence.

  She took a tentative step inside, and he recognized the whore as the one who had been with him his first night here. Peeking around the door to make sure he was gone, the female visibly relaxed when she found the room empty. Not an ego-boosting response, to be sure. He didn’t blame the female for her reluctance to get near him again. He supposed nearly being strangled to death was bound to make a girl leery.

  He watched her a few minutes as she began cleaning his room. She moved about emptying trash and vacuuming the floor. Occasionally, he’d catch a glimpse of her bruised neck, and a twinge of remorse needled his chest, making it uncomfortable to draw a full breath. Haden reached up to rub the ache away and a sharp pain pierced his palm. Glancing down at his hand, it surprised him to see the heart-shaped burn in the center of his palm still hadn’t healed. He cocked his jaw left, then right—no pain. As he did a quick injuries check, he discovered everything else had healed just fine, so why hadn’t the burn? If possible, the damn thing looked worse than yesterday.

  The roar of the vacuum grew closer, and every once in a while his bed would bounce when she banged into the frame. Had he not felt guilty about almost killing her, he would have traced back over and told her to get the hell out and leave him in peace. But the new discovery of his weeping wound rattled him just enough to leave her be. Who knew how long it would take for Rhen and Cale to get here. He probably should have asked where they were when he was informing the dynamic duo that their fearless leader was dead.

  Bang…Bang… The bed bounced again. Aw hell… He needed to get out of here before he snapped and did something to the female he’d really regret. Since Rhen and Cale were en route, he might as well cool his heels. After last night’s little mission gone asunder, he wouldn’t be making another play for the female alone. Rhen and Cale would make excellent bait, and the way he saw it, they were his last shot at Olivia. If this got fucked up, there wouldn’t be another—they’d most likely be dead, and then all these years of planning would have been for nothing.

  An hour later, Haden found himself, still in transcended form, sitting on a park bench overlooking a small pond filled with ducks swimming along serenely. Their little ducklings trailed behind in perfect formation, echoes of children’s laughter filling the air as they played on a jungle gym at the opposite end of the park.

  It surprised him to find himself, here of all places. This wasn’t exactly his sort of hangout. But something drew him—subconsciously, his senses pulled him here. At first, he thought just to torture him. Listening to the airy, youthful laughter, he couldn’t help but wonder what his child’s joyous giggle would have sounded like.

  His chest ached with a renewed sense of loss and he immediately smothered it with thoughts of hatred and revenge. It was the staple that kept him going all these years and the driving force that would give him the tenacity to see this through to the end. Then and only then, after he’d stripped Gahn’s miserable life from him, could he return to his Anya and spill his life’s blood upon her grave as a final sacrifice to atone for failing her and their son.

  But none of that would be possible—not without the stone. The stone… Haden uncurled his fingers to study his festering palm. Immanuel’s Stone was his ticket for delivering justice and the sweet mercy of his own death.

  A squeal of laughter broke the air around him, this time much closer than before. Something red caught the corner of his eye as it bounced twice and rolled toward him. The ball came to rest against the side of his booted heel. Haden reached down and picked up the round rubber object. Examining it closely, another stab of pain shot right through his heart.

  A little girl of no more than four years came bounding up to him. Her pale blonde curls bounced upon her shoulders, looking almost translucent in the sunlight. She wore a white sundress with prints of red ladybugs spattered over it. Her black patent-leather sandals exposed her tiny feet, toenails painted red to match her dress.

  When she walked up to him and stopped less than two feet away, he then realized why he’d been drawn here. His instincts had sought her out. Even when he wasn’t conscious of it, he was hunting. Haden eyed the small girl, idly wondering if the Dark Court was yet aware another one existed—probably not, they’d been too focused on Olivia.

  So trusting, so innocent… he thought, watching in amazement as the girl stared up at him with radiant blue eyes that held no fear.

  “Hi,” the little girl said.

  He couldn’t help but return her smile.

  She cocked her head a little to the left and studied him a moment before saying, “My name’s Emma. What’s yours?”

  “Hi, Emma. My name is Haden.”

  “That’s my ball,” she said, pointing at the red ball held in his hands.

  “So it is. Would you like it back?” he asked, holding it out to her.

  “Yes, please.”

  When she stepped forward to take the ball, the little girl tripped and stumbled forward. Haden caught her right before she would have smacked her porcelain face on the bench. The moment he touched her, the child’s smile fell. The beautiful l
ight that had been in her eyes dimmed as terror washed over her—and that was when he realized he’d touched her in his transcended form.

  Shit… Her little body stiffened as she scrambled to get her footing, tensed to run. The moment her fear filled the air, a bright light flashed behind her and the little girl’s guardian stood towering over her.

  “Release the child.”

  That’s what he was trying to do, but the little waif was as unsteady as a foal. With her feet now beneath her, he let go of the child and handed her the ball. Eyeing him warily, she reached out and snatched it from his hand before turning to look up at her guardian.

  “Come on, Theo,” she said, tugging on his sleeve. “I wanna play catch.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute, Emma,” her guardian replied lovingly, his amethyst glare softening as he watched the little girl turn and run back to her friends.

  Emptiness and loss engulfed Haden, leaving him furiously indignant. “You think I wish to hurt that child?” he growled.

  “Why else would you be here, stalking the sighted in transcended form?”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “It matters not. Your hands have known immeasurable death and destruction. You are forbidden to touch such purity.”

  “Get the hell away from me!” Haden spat. “Why don’t you return to the self-righteous pedestal you flew down from?”

  “I possess no authority which has not been given to me. Your judgment comes not from me. If redemption is what you seek, then it is forgiveness you must ask for.”

  “Some of us are beyond redemption,” Haden muttered.

  “No one is beyond redemption,” the angel replied, turning to walk up the hill toward his ward.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Three years ago

  It was by chance that he saw her for the first time. Had he known then that she would soon possess the key to his revenge, he would have probably paid closer attention. As it was, Haden sat in a dark corner of The Wrath, drowning his misery in a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. After all these years, he would have expected the pain to lessen, but more than a century later, his heart still ached for Anya like it was yesterday.

  He watched the female with bored interest, even as every eye turned to the demon walking in with the stunning woman on his arm. Her long black hair was the sort any male would hunger to dive his hands into, and her tall, slender frame was generously curved in all the right places. Only a fool would bring her into a place like this… Unless he was trying to get them both killed...

  It wasn’t until her vibrant green eyes momentarily locked on his that he took further notice. Holy hell… The female was sighted! She looked around the room with a measure of fear and trepidation—smart girl. She should run like hell. Clearly, she has no idea where she is.

  Curious now, he watched the female, his somewhat alcohol-dulled instincts coming online and honing in on her. In the last hundred years, he could count on one hand the number of sighted females he’d encountered. Just to spite Gahn, he’d let them live—every fucking one of them, and this female would be no exception.

  He watched the demon walk away and head toward the bar. Stupid fool… He considered approaching her, giving her a little piece of advice to get the hell out of here while she still could, when the front door flew open and electricity crackled the air. Haden looked up to see the angel walk in with authority and arrogance one didn’t often find in a place like this. His dark violet eyes scanned the bar. He was looking for someone.

  Sucks to be the poor bastard on his shit list.

  Like a guided missile locking on its target, the angel’s searching gaze locked on the female. Holy shit! He was here for her? Now, this was gonna get interesting.

  The angel approached the frightened young woman. When he spoke to her, she seemed to visibly relax, the hard lines of her beautiful face softened. Haden was shocked when he actually saw a small smile grace those full, lush lips and he couldn’t help but wonder what the angel had said to garner such a reward. The angel glanced toward the bar and his expression hardened. The demon must be coming back.

  His reluctance to leave her was palpable. She said something to him, and he walked away, stopping near the entrance. The demon approached the young woman a moment later, scowling like someone just pissed in his lemonade. With a cocky glance in the angel’s direction, the bastard caught the woman around the waist and captured her lips in a bold, open-mouthed kiss. Every eye in the bar was on them.

  Electricity soared through the air, and Haden couldn’t resist the wicked grin that crossed his face as he waited in anticipation for the inevitable throw-down between Heaven and Hell. He glanced toward the entrance where the angel was standing. His eyes glowed brilliant amethyst. Perhaps he would kill the demon right here and now—he could only hope…

  That demon has no idea what he’s messing with. The young woman appeared to be surprised and not very pleased by his forward kiss. Wedging her hand between them, she pushed him back. Little did she know, she probably just saved that demon’s life. Pity… He’d bet his life that angel was two seconds from flying across the room and slitting the demon’s throat.

  He knew that look all too well—the malevolent glare, muscles tense—strung tight and ready to strike. Since losing Anya, he’d made it his personal mission to hunt down and kill the demons responsible for her death. And just to fuck with Gahn, he’d started taking out his army too, one by one. A century later, he’d counted quite the coup d'état on those bastards and he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. Unfortunately, no matter how much blood he drown his sorrows in, nothing ever assuaged the guilt of his mate’s death.

  The female looked spittin’ kitten mad when the demon reluctantly released her. From across the room, Haden heard him growl, “Damn, you taste good.”

  No doubt she did, but A: telling the indignant female such was just asking to get kneed in the balls. B: The warrior now had murder in his amethyst glare. And C: That cocky bastard just turned the crank of every dick in this joint and then stroked it by declaring how sweet she tasted. No doubt about it, that stupid son of a bitch was trying to get her killed.

  The demon took her hand and pulled her over to the pool table. Haden watched as they shot a round, noticing the demon’s attention fixed on the stranger at the door. He touched the female possessively, intimately, tauntingly... Haden wondered if it was possible the demon didn’t realize what the stranger was, or perhaps he was just that suicidal. The demon finished his beer, said something to the woman, and left her again to go back to the bar.

  You reckless bastard…

  Haden wasn’t surprised when a few seconds later, another demon, heavy on the tats and metal, approached her. She tensed. He could scent her fear from across the room. It was like nose candy to these fallen bastards. Anxiously, she glanced over at the bar, probably looking for the asshole that left her unattended.

  Haden watched as the demon’s hand shot out, grabbing the woman’s wrist. Well, that didn’t take long. It surprised him when the momentary thought of aiding the female flashed through his mind. He wasn’t a hero, not by any accord, but he was always itching for a good, bloody fight, and would jump at the opportunity to bust some heads together.

  As quickly as the thought came, it was gone, along with the chance to step in. The air crackled with energy as the stranger by the door headed for the female. At the same time, her demon “date” was returning with another beer—his eyes flashing black with fury when he spotted the tattooed demon manhandling her. The angel stopped, hanging back to watch the exchange between the two males. By the amethyst sheen in his livid gaze, it was obvious he had every intention of intervening if this played out poorly.

  The demon growled something to the one holding her wrist and grabbed his forearm. Haden heard the crack from across the bar and “tats” immediately released the woman, howling a foul curse and cradling his arm. Haden chuckled. Hell, this was better than Spike TV. Without missing a beat, the demon took the woman
’s arm and guided her toward the exit. He smiled that arrogant alpha male, king shit grin and whispered something to her, ignoring the fact that the now very pale young woman looked as if she were about to pass out from fright.

  As they walked out, he let go of the female long enough to slam his shoulder into the angel’s chest. Well, that was a mistake…The angel bent to the force of the blow, but his footing remained firm. Without missing a beat, he countered with blinding speed and slammed his palm into the demon’s shoulder, propelling him several feet toward the door. Unfortunately, the female stood between the demon and the exit. Haden felt himself tense, instinctively preparing for the blow that would take her down. Surprisingly, the demon recovered just before taking her out.

  With a ferocious growl, he spun around to T off with the angel. Haden was certain he was about to witness the demon’s death, when amazingly, that small, beautiful woman charged toward them and put herself in between the two preternatural forces. Good versus evil…with the sacrificial lamb in between.

  Damn, he’d misjudged the female. She was either the most courageous, or the dumbest woman on the face of the planet. But, holy hell, she was hot—and mad as a hornet. Perhaps this little lamb was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Watching her, the unwelcomed stirring of desire tightened between his legs, his pulse quickened. This woman…intrigued him.

  She snapped something to the angel, and whatever she’d said had been powerful enough to diffuse the fight. Abruptly, she turned her back to him and left with the demon. The angel was furious. Rage resonated from every fiber of his being. He couldn’t believe it when the demon glanced over his shoulder and gave the angel a triumphant “fuck you” mocking grin.

  Sucks to be you, dude. Haden shook his head, wondering if that demon realized he’d just signed his own death warrant.

  ***

  Two years and six months later…

  The second time he saw her, fate saw fit to align their paths once again. She was sitting alone at a wrought iron table outside Karen’s Bagels, drinking a latte and reading a book. At first, he almost didn’t recognize her—but those eyes… He’d never been able to forget those verdant eyes. But there was something different about her—an air of brokenness... Sadness haunted this female, stirring a kinship of grief deep inside him he didn’t understand, nor was the sentiment especially welcomed.