He went utterly still, like some deadly predator about to strike. With slow, precise movements, he set his silverware down. “Where?”
“At the florist. You were late, so I went to the entrance to look for you, and in the swarm of people crossing the street, I saw this guy. He was really tall, and he looked my way. Though he wore a baseball cap that shadowed his face, I felt as if I’d seen him before. Then, he vanished. It all happened so fast. I thought I was mistaken.”
Blaéz rose from his seat, his features cast in ice, reminding her of the cold, deadly man she’d first met several months ago; the one without a soul. Troubled now, she got up, too.
“We have to leave.”
“You’re going after him, right?” He said nothing, and her anxiety grew.
After saying their goodbyes to Declan and Grace, he ushered her out of the house. As he opened the car door for her, she stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “Blaéz, your mother did say the Absolute Laws no longer affects us—”
“And yet, he’s here.” His tone grew icy. The tense lines of his face transformed into stone. “I’m not waiting for him to come after us. If Finnén persists in stalking us, I will deal with him.”
Darci stirred from a deep sleep, pain sweeping through her. She jackknifed up, breathing hard. The heavy drapes remained shut, concealing the room in darkness. An agonized groan drifted to her.
Oh, no! She scrambled to where Blaéz was on the other side, the covers thrown off him. His body strained as if trying to break free of whatever had trapped him. Sweat gleamed on his skin.
And then she knew.
“Oh, my love,” she whispered, her heart hurting for him, the pain impossible to bear, feeling every bit of his own agony through their shared soul. “Blaéz?” She ran her palm over his damp biceps. “I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen.” Or ever hurt you again.
His head snapped toward the sound of her voice. Pain-drenched, unfocused blue eyes flew open.
She hastily wiped away her tears with her hand and forced a smile. “It’s going to be all right. Just focus on me. Okay?”
No response. She didn’t expect one anyway. He hauled her down to him as if terrified she’d leave. She wrapped her arms tightly around him as he rested his head on her chest, a hard lump forming in her throat. Her big bad warrior, usually so tough and resilient, brought to his knees by those fucking nightmares.
A shuddering sigh escaped him, as if hearing her heartbeat soothed him.
Darci pressed her lips to his hair in a gentle kiss, her hand sliding over his back in a comforting caress. But the old whiplash scars riddling his back was a grim reminder of his horrific imprisonment in Tartarus, and why he suffered from those terrible nightmares.
Chapter 6
Echo flexed her aching fingers. Her biceps burned, and her lungs felt as if all the air inside had escaped. Sweat dripped down her brow and more trickled between her breasts. She lashed out with another hard punch at the swaying sandbag—
“Aaack,” she whimpered, pain rushing through her hand, hurting like holy hell. Hastily, she leaped back before the swinging sandbag blasted her in the face.
Breathing hard, she glanced at her damaged knuckles. Yup, bruised them all. The middle one had split open and bled. Wonderful. She rolled her sore shoulders. She needed to find a willing opponent.
Of the Guardians, only Týr had trained with her, and she had a feeling he held back. A lot. Blaéz, he just gave her pointers but refused to engage in a fight. Hedori, however, took her training seriously, but only with weapons, which was why she appreciated having Ely and Shae as sparring partners. Man, those girls could fight.
As for Aethan… She sighed. No, he wasn’t going to relent. Darn stubborn immortal. She was so tired of hoping, knowing he would never change his mind.
Growling, she spun around and gave the sandbag a hard sidekick. There. That felt good after the tension she’d carried around the entire day. Besides, Darci was the one getting married and under stress. Perhaps she should finish now, shower, and go find her friend and see if she needed any help. After all, she was the maid of honor.
Echo picked up the towel from the bench and wiped her face. As she reached for her water bottle, she frowned, staring at her fingers. What the—?
The bruised skin on her fingers had mended, and the split knuckle only sported a fading pink patch.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
At that low, slightly accented and incredibly sexy voice that always made her toes curl, she spun around. A smile curved the corners of her mouth, her healed fingers forgotten.
“Aethan,” she breathed as he strolled across. The overhead lights reflected off the multiple blue shades of his gorgeous hair, which he’d tied in a stubby ponytail, revealing the small, platinum hoops in his earlobes. The man never failed to take her breath away, even after a year together. “I thought you were busy working on your stock and property stuff?”
“It can wait.”
Oh. “So you’re on your way to meet up with Nik?”
“Rescheduled for later.” He ran his gaze down her body, and his white-flecked gray eyes flared with heat. She swallowed, her body heating up. Yup, he liked her in her knee-length tights and tank top. But she also knew, he was a master of self-control.
Since he wasn’t here to train with her, despite wearing his workout gear, and it wasn’t in her nature to give up, no matter what her earlier thoughts were, she tossed her towel aside, grasped a handful of his t-shirt, and pulled him to her.
She ran her tongue over his lower lip before sucking on it leisurely…sensually. The growl became a groan, and he hauled her into his arms, deepening the kiss in a hungry tangle of tongues. The treacherous buzz of his deadly ability brushed over her psyche. Her breath hitched. God, she loved this dangerous side of him. And reveled in his perilous power as pinpricks of whitefire seeped through her, amping her own desire.
“Damn, Echo,” a rumble rolled out from deep in his chest. His hands slipped between her thighs, and his fingers stroked along her cleft.
Ohh! A moan broke free. Before she got lost in him, she pulled back, instantly missing the seductive warmth of his mouth, the touch of his hand. “Later,” she panted. “After I’m done with my training—”
“Fuck training—”
“Hedori is on his way.” Heck, the lies piled on, but she’d do anything to crack through that formidable will of his for what she truly wanted.
His eyes narrowed. “No, he isn’t. I saw him moments ago, he was headed for the boathouse.”
“Oh, well.” She rolled her eyes, so much for using him as an excuse. “I haven’t finished my allocated time.”
“Of course,” he muttered, the twitch in jaw more pronounced. “C’mon. There’s something I wanted to do. Why I came looking for you.”
“What?”
He didn’t respond but ushered her out and across the hallway to the other door and into the massive training arena with its sweeping, granite walls and gray-tiled floors.
Echo frowned, raking back her damp, over-long bangs from her eyes. “Why are we here?”
Still silent, he shut the door. The last time they were here together a year ago, he’d…
No—no way! Her heart tripped. Her chin dropped, almost smacking her chest in shock. “You’re going to train me?”
“Yes. I realized it’s time.” He strode off for the swords at far end of the arena.
“I’ve been ready for months,” she grumbled. “You refused to see that.”
“Perhaps. Just be glad I’m here now.”
“Aethan, if I’m going do this, getting hurt is part of the deal.”
In a preternatural blur, he moved to the sword stand and selected two lightweight blades. “Not if I can help it,” he muttered under his breath.
“I heard that.”
His head snapped to her. “I’m way across the arena, you couldn’t have heard me.”
“I did…”
The next second, he appeared a
t her side, his gaze skimming over her. “Aethan, look.” She held out her hands. “I worked the punching bags earlier without gloves”—she ignored his scowl—“and, yeah, they were bruised badly, one knuckle even bled, but look at them now.” She wiggled her fingers excitedly.
Aethan went deathly still, his glower vanishing as he stared at her nearly unblemished skin. The swords dropped from his hold, their clang resonating in the quiet. He grasped her fingers. “Your healing abilities are emerging.”
It was an amazing thing to see his smile, considering how much he hated when she got even a mark on her, and only now had finally caved to her pestering. But just as fast, his expression morphed into that inflexible one she’d become more familiar with when it came to her safety. “I still expect you to fight as if you’re mortal and your life’s on the line.” He pinned her an inflexible stare. “In other words, don’t do anything reckless.”
Ugh, she knew that. As if she wanted to get hurt by the supernatural evil out there.
His gaze on hers, he kissed her knuckles and let her go. “Right, let’s begin.”
He picked up the fallen weapons, handing her one.
Echo swung the blade, testing the weight of it like Hedori had shown her. “What made you change your mind about training with me?” she asked him, curious now, considering his previously rigid stance on the taboo subject.
“It’s been on my mind for a while…” he admitted, watching her moves with an undoubtedly critical eye. “When Dagan and I were in the Dark Realm, rescuing his mate’s mother, he mentioned wanting Shae to learn how to defend herself now that she’s a part of this dangerous life we lead. I realized that I could no longer put off what I had to do.
“You are my entire life Echo, but you are the Healer, too, and I cannot bury my head in the ground.” His gray eyes burning with untold emotions were rimmed with pain. “The thing is, you dying in my arms ripped me apart. It’s an agony I will never forget—one I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. It still lives inside me.”
Echo froze at his revelation and slowly lowered her sword. Aethan didn’t speak much about that horrid time a year ago when she died. And she knew, too, that it was never far from his mind. But, finally hearing him give words to his torment hit her in her chest like a giant-size fist.
A lump lodging in her throat, she ran over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her weapon still palmed. “I’m so sorry. In hindsight, I guess I would have reacted differently in the same situation now, but when the person you love more than anything in this world is in danger, you don’t think. You just react to save them…”
A dangerous demonii had captured her and taken her to Hell, believing he could use her abilities as the Healer to traverse realms and take them over. But Aethan had managed to rescue her and kill the demonii, except the demonii’s human accomplice shot at Aethan with a spelled bullet—which would have killed him—but Echo had taken the hit instead.
She blinked back her tears. “I’m here now, and I’m immortal—you made me so.” She smiled, hoping to chase away the shadows in his eyes. “Besides, I can self-heal also. I’ll be fine.”
A sigh barreled out of him as his hold on her tightened, then he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. “I live for you, me’morae.”
“And I, for you,” she whispered, love and tenderness for her hard and very, very lethal mate overwhelming her.
He stepped back several feet, his weapon hanging loosely in his hand. His expression cool, unreadable—the battle-hardened warrior back. “Let’s begin.”
Unfazed, Echo grinned and danced back. “Come on, my big, bad Empyrean.”
Before she could blink, Aethan lunged, his blade swinging. She countered a little too late, the impact of his strike taking her down easily. She fell on her ass, pain jarring up her spine. He didn’t spare her. It appeared he was finally convinced that she could handle this brutal side of training.
“Always, always be prepared,” he said coolly, but his eyes flashed with amusement as she glared at him. Yeah, the darn wretch had done that deliberately!
Biting back a scowl, she jumped to her feet. No way would she let a little thing like a sore backside stop her from this long-awaited training session with him. Eyes narrowed, her sword braced, she waited, adrenaline pumping through her veins as he circled her like some predator after new prey…
Ten minutes later, Echo gritted her teeth, her damn arms felt like it had been wrenched from their shoulder sockets. Instead of deflecting the strike coming at her—old habit kicked in—she dropped to her knees and skated beneath his swing, smacking the back of his knee with her palm. She jumped up to her feet behind him.
In a blur Aethan twisted, knocking her sword from her hand like it was a toy. It clattered to the floor in a loud twang.
Narrowing her eyes, she stepped back, her obsidian dagger taking form in her hand.
Aethan’s powerful body went still, then he tracked her with that stalking gait, one that warned his prey had no chance of escape. His gray irises sparked a dangerous white.
Oh, crap! He was furious. She had no idea why.
Hastily, she retreated a step, then another as he followed. Her back hit the wall, her dagger pointed at him. He slapped his palms on the granite surface, locking her in. “What exactly did you hope to prove with that little stunt?”
“Aethan—” Shock blasted through her. “What the hell? You just walked into my blade?”
“You know the damn rules, Echo, no matter the situation, whether a true fight or training, you use your fucking blade,” he snapped. “In this arena, when we’re together, I am not your mate—”
“But I’d have used my dagger and would have already slashed your tendons had you truly been evil,” she protested. “The sword is too long. It wouldn’t work for that.”
“I don’t give—” he bit off a curse and inhaled sharply as if trying to calm down. “You’ve done this before.”
“Many times. Since I’m not a strapping girl, nor do I possess the weight or muscles to take down my opponent, I’ve learnt to adapt. I…” She bit her lip, to stop its tremor, remembering. “Damon showed me how...”
At the mention of her former guardian who’d left over a year ago, Aethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course.”
No, her mate didn’t like Damon. At all.
But Damon had been more than her guardian or the man who’d rescued a young, traumatized orphan girl from the streets and then adopted her; he’d been her family.
Still, if he could simply walk away after ten years together without even a goodbye to her, guess he hadn’t been that invested in their relationship after all.
Aethan lowered his hand, his gray eyes searching hers. “You okay?” he asked quietly. He knew it still hurt her that Damon had left so abruptly. She straightened her spine and forced a smile. “I’m fine. Let’s continue…”
Later that morning, Darci finished her email and hit send. The caterers had been finally locked down, along with her menu preference. But Blaéz remained in her thoughts.
He hadn’t been in bed when she’d gotten up later that morning. She wasn’t surprised, considering he never went back to sleep after those nightmares of Tartarus.
When she’d seen him at their midday meal, he appeared his normal, tormenting self and that eased her.
She understood it had only been six months since he got his soul back, along with his emotions… It had to be why the nightmares plagued him. Because there was no enemy, no loose ends. Maloch was dead. The past had finally been buried. Hopefully, in time, those nightmares would fade, too.
Darci pushed to her feet and stilled, goosebumps prickling over her arms. Her gaze darted to the tall window. Cold, noon sunlight slanted inside, brightening the massive library and highlighting a few dust specks, but she couldn’t see anyone.
Darn. She was still too edgy and didn’t need an overactive imagination, as well, when she had more pressing problems to deal with.
Finnén.
If he was around, then she had to be prepared for anything. He was dangerous and had a couple of screws loose as far as she was concerned.
Perhaps she could ask Echo for help. Her friend had been a self-defense instructor before she mated Aethan. With Finnén snooping around, Darci refused to be unprepared. Or unarmed.
About to leave, movement at the window drew her attention. She smiled, her worry easing. There you are.
Dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, Blaéz bent his arm over his head, the other hand tugging at the elbow as if to loosen the muscles in his side. Strange, he never used this side of the castle to start his run.
His tee rose up at his actions, briefly revealing a side-view of his smooth, lightly tanned stomach and back. She could never resist his hard, mouth-wateringly sculptured abs. So why waste a golden opportunity to torment him?
Before he disappeared, she darted to the French door, opened it, and shuddered at the blast of cold air snatching her breath as she stepped out. “Hey, you.”
Blaéz pivoted. Something dark flashed in his eyes. The next minute, he was on her, pushing her against the rugged wall and kissing her hard and deep.
“Blaéz—” She pushed him back, breathing heavily. He stared at her for several seconds then spun away, taking off for his run in a blur.
Frowning, Darci touched her slightly tender lips. He’d never been so aggressive with her. Her heart tripped with unease as she stared in the direction he’d gone. Was it the nightmare? God, she never felt this helpless before. They had to find a way for those dreams to stop—they just had to.
Darci headed back inside in search of Echo. As she neared the kitchen, her steps slowed when Shae and Dagan stepped out. They made such a striking couple. Despite Shae’s height, she appeared fragile and delicate with her lean build, pale skin and bright hair. He was exceptionally tall, muscular, and dark—and a vampire.
Darci still couldn’t get over that.
“Shae—” Dagan caught her hand when she would have walked past him, his ebony warrior braids swaying just past his shoulders now. He turned her to him and gently caressed her cheek. “It’ll be okay.”
For You, I Will Page 6