A nerve worked Týr’s jaw. “Did you find any of the bastards who knew about this?”
Those shattered blues looked up. “None are talking. Not unless one of us actually goes into the Dark Realm, which isn’t happening. Soon enough, the truth will trickle into this world. Keep your ears open and an eye on the homeless tonight. I’ll be around if you need me. Have to clean up Samael’s mess and find the other two rogue angels who are affiliated with him.” Michael straightened. Bob let out a disgruntled rumble as the archangel headed for the door.
“I have a demon suspect who’s going to meet his contact tonight. I’ll work on him. Dig out the truth.”
Michael glanced back, amusement suffusing his eyes. “Don’t know if I should feel pity for him or not. Just get to the bottom of this.”
Týr stalked into his dressing room, the urge for retribution growing. That demon-fucking-snitch would soon regret the side he’d chosen.
Chapter 6
Was the man hiding?
Kira stopped at the French doors in the enormous kitchen and glowered through the window. She hadn’t seen Týr the entire day, not in the rec room or even in the gym where she’d reluctantly partnered Echo in her workout.
The slave driver had hauled her there just because she’d gotten hurt.
Her arms and thigh muscles still protested the brutality of the sword fight Echo had put them through earlier. While she appeared like a lively cricket, hopping around the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of cocoa, Kira was grateful she could still walk.
“You’re real fidgety this evening.” Echo picked up her drink.
“I’m anxious to get going. I called Liam twice today. Tomas hasn’t shown. We have to find him before anything happens.”
“He’s lived a long time on the street, Kira. He knows to avoid dangerous places, like I did when I lived there.”
God, she hoped so. “I wish I could have gone out to look for him today…” Kira sighed and leaned against the door, rubbing her the dull throb in her temple. But it had been darn hard to leave this place with Hedori and the Guardians about. “Anyway, I have to work tonight for a few hours. Jesse called me earlier and asked me to cover for her.”
“Her baby’s sick?”
Kira lowered her hand. “Yeah.” Just as well since she had to meet Riley, too. And she really didn’t want to explain to one difficult Guardian why she had to stop off at the bar first. “But when I’m done, Týr’s going to help me…” Kira narrowed her eyes. “Stop it—stop smiling.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it.” Echo’s grin stayed. “He licked your wound better, and now he’s helping you?”
“Why not? It’s his fault that Tomas ran off, so it’s only right he helps find him.”
As if she would tell her best friend that the big lug had threatened to lock her up if she dared to go off on her own, leaving her with little choice but to let him accompany her as her bodyguard.
Where was he?
She glanced at Echo, wanting to ask. Nuh-uh, she definitely didn’t want the teasing to start up again, not when she’d actively avoided Týr whenever she could in the past. But she needed answers. Guess she’d have to hunt the warrior down herself. “I gotta go. Brian can be a huge pain in the ass if we’re late.”
With a little wave, Kira sprinted down the corridor for the back stairwell. Her sore legs thoroughly objected the additional torture. As she ran up, Michael came down. He paused on the top step, giving her room. Breathing hard, she somehow managed a smile. “Hi, Michael…” she wheezed, like an asphyxiating toad. Uh, great.
“Kira.” The archangel inclined his head, probably too polite to show his amusement that a single flight of stairs had defeated her. Grimacing, she passed him and then pivoted. “Er, Michael, do you know where Týr is?”
He glanced back. The soft stair lights did little to tone down the silvery glow seeping from those eerie, splintered blue irises or his measured stare. “Second floor, right turn.”
“Thanks.” She hastened off.
In the hallway leading to Týr’s domain, she slowed. The place was elegant like everything else about the castle, with its marble floors and paintings that would make a museum drool. She knocked on the door, shifting on her feet as she waited.
“Go on, walk right in,” he bellowed. “Why the fuck be polite now?”
She grinned at his unexpected crankiness. Yup, he and Michael probably had words. Wiping off her smile, she entered the territory she never let her curious mind wander to and snorted at the typical male décor. A lone, daunting suit of body armor guarded the small entrance hall—the real thing, too, judging by the dents and its typically tarnished appearance. Naturally, being a guy, swords through the ages lined the wall instead of a pretty mirror and flowers.
She stepped into a massive bedroom and slowed. Sheesh! Her entire brownstone could probably fit in here.
The walls were like every other in the castle, gray stone. Opposite her, a dark wooden headboard abutted a huge bed with a thick, forest-green comforter thrown over the mattress. He didn’t have a turret sitting room like Aethan’s or Dagan’s quarters had, but an archway led into a slightly smaller room with huge windows, tobacco-colored leather couches, a flat-screen, and a music system.
The place didn’t resemble its owner at all. Týr usually gave off the impression of fun, of not being serious about anything except maybe his job, but his quarters told a whole other story. This place reeked…order. He didn’t show this side of himself to anyone, she realized.
Kira wandered over to Bob, who lay on the lounger. His amber eyes flicked to her, and his bushy, soot-gray tail twitched in greeting. Smiling, she scratched his furry head, eliciting a low purr. Her cell buzzed. She retrieved the device from her pocket. At Liam’s name on the display, she hastily opened the message.
“Stop stalking my damn space and get your ass in here!”
At Týr’s acerbic snap, Kira rolled her eyes. “It’s me,” she called out, reading the text. Still no sign of Tomas. Working at The Shelter this evening, will keep an eye out for him.
Damn.
In her peripheral view, Týr appeared in the doorway just past the fireplace. “You were supposed to fill me in when you got back this morning.”
“Yeah, been detained.”
Lord, he was cranky. “Well?” She glanced at him, slipping her phone into her pocket. “Did you see—oh…” Her breath caught. He wore nothing but a towel. The sheer impact of him stunned her into silence.
Týr braced a forearm on the jamb near his head and raised an eyebrow.
Don’t look…don’t look down.
But avoiding his taunting gaze, she got trapped by his tough, sexy body. Slabs of flesh were woven into hard muscles, honed both by centuries of training and his job, making him the deadly warrior he was. Sure, she wanted to strangle him most times, but damn, he was absolute physical perfection. Her gaze moved lower…
“Face is up here, Fluff,” he drawled, pointing to his amused expression.
Heat flooded her cheeks. Clearly, Týr knew what his looks did to poor, unsuspecting humans. Kira scowled. She didn’t know what it was about him that drew her, because every time he opened his mouth, it made her want to snap. And still… Every time she looked at the sensual curve of his lower lip, she wanted to kiss it.
He straightened, distracting her from dangerous thoughts, and he readjusted his towel, biting the same lip as if not to laugh. But the power of that half-smile almost scorched her where she stood. Týr undoubtedly liked playing Russian roulette with her fluctuating emotions. This was his fault. She had been fine until he’d decided to superglue himself to her as her darn guard.
He rubbed the biceps inked with a myriad of symbols that made up a sword. “You wanted something?”
“Yes,” she said, struggling to focus on why she’d hunted him down. “Tomas? Did you find him?”
Týr’s teasing expression vanished. “I didn’t, but Nik did.”
Thank God. “And?”
That’s it? She frowned at the empty doorway. Was it such an effort to explain what happened? Men! “Then we find him tonight. I’ll wait downstairs.”
His grunt apparently concluding their scintillating conversation, Kira shook her head and marched for the door.
A few minutes later, her jacket and backpack collected from her room, she sat on the bottom step of the grand staircase in the elegant foyer and waited, her mind back on the missing kids.
Maybe Shadow could help. She knew the alleyways like the back of her hand since she lived underground in the labyrinth beneath the city. Kira had offered her a place to stay when she heard that, but her friend had politely declined.
Frowning, she put on her jacket, then got out her cell, and called Shadow.
“Kira?” her soft, breathy voice flowed down the line. “It’s been a while. How’s the little brat?”
Kira laughed, rolling her tense shoulders. Shadow had been the one to help her find Tomas the first time he’d run off. “I’m good. But he’s gone again. A misunderstanding this time…” She briefly explained about the wedding and being unable to see him for a few days, excluding the real reason why he’d taken off.
“That boy’s quite attached to you, isn’t he? I’ll see if I can get wind of where he’s holed up.” The line dropped.
At the sounds of boot steps approaching, Kira pushed her cell into her jacket pocket and glanced over her shoulder to the corridor past the stairs. Nik came into view.
Like all the Guardians, he cut an imposing figure in his all-black patrolling gear. Despite his striking looks—tan skin, startling, pale green eyes, and buzzed hair—with all that tatts and cold stare, he looked like a straight-up killer.
The guy could literally freeze a city with just a stare, or so she’d heard. But such empty eyes. Echo had assured her that he did possess a soul, unlike Blaéz, who had been completely emotionless until he met Darci.
Nik slowed. “You ready?”
It took a second before the truth hit her like a slap in the face. Hurt surged. Týr had shoved her off onto Nik and didn’t bother telling her when they’d spoken a few minutes ago. Fine. Kira picked up her backpack and rose. “You know, I can get Hedori to take me.”
Those pale eyes turned colder than the Arctic, the serpent’s head on the warrior’s neck darker as if it were equally displeased by her response.
“Týr asked me to keep you safe while we look for the boy. It’s what I will do.”
Footsteps sounded behind her. She didn’t turn, hating that she knew exactly who it was. “I’m ready, let’s go.”
“Nik, I got this. Thanks,” Týr said.
Kira glared at the door, tightening her grip on the straps of her bag. What was she, a tennis ball to be tossed about? “Look, I don’t care who I go with. But can we leave already? Better yet, let me just go get my own car, less bother that way.”
Nik walked out, the door shutting behind him.
She stomped off, but Týr grabbed her arm. Kira yanked free. He’d only come because of guilt. Probably thought he was shirking his duty to Gran by not going.
“So temperamental…” he murmured, his unreadable gaze roaming her face. “And that’s not a car, it’s a deathtrap.”
“Temperamental?” she snapped. “Oh, right, because I sooo like being tossed about like a damn toy with no feelings. And Echo gave me the Beetle. I love it!” So, there. “Look, you don’t have to tail me around. I have friends with muscles—”
“Sure, you do,” Týr cut her off, his expression hardening. “I did ask Nik to be with you,” he answered her unasked question. “Because being with me is not safe right now.”
“Why? Some demon after you?” she shot back.
His stare got dark and cold. “I don’t leave any alive. Ever.”
She’d heard about his aversion to the species, understood that most of the fiends who crawled out of the Dark Realm were vile monsters. They hunted humans like cattle, stealing their souls and drinking their blood. But she sensed something more with Týr…something deeper, darker—
“This, here?” He stabbed a finger at his jaw and the arc-shaped injury. “Is courtesy of a coward who hides in the darkness of night. I will find and end him.”
“Oh. So, you decided to use me as bait.”
A smile ghosted his mouth, softening his rigid features. “Tempting, but no. You’d be safe with any of us, but I made a promise to Lila. I won’t let any harm come to you.” The hardness was back as if he reinforced it with his life or something. He pulled on his biker jacket and checked his pockets. “Still want to take your chances with me?” he drawled, looking up. “I can call Nik back.”
Did he think he could scare her off with his disclosure of some evil threat dogging his heels? Too bad for him, she was as willful as he was stubborn. “I just want to find Tomas. Let’s go.”
“Tonight only, Kira. Like you promised. Whether we find him or not.” He fixed her with an uncompromising stare.
“Fine,” she huffed and opened the front door. The icy breeze stole her breath. She hastily buttoned her jacket. “Ugh, this place is colder than the city.”
“But a lot less smelly.”
A smile quivered on her lips, but she banished it. “Wait, I forgot to tell you, I’m covering for one of the waitresses at work for a few hours tonight. I’ll be done around nine.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
Dreading this part because every time she touched him to dematerialize, she somehow ended up in his embrace. Kira bit the inside of her lip and gingerly grasped his arm.
Týr heaved a massive sigh. “You’re gonna give me an inferiority complex, Fluff.” He slid his arm around her waist and drew her to him.
Kira held her breath as if that would help, too aware of every inch of his hard, warm body aligned with hers. It was bound to happen after seeing how incredibly hot he looked in nothing but a towel. And that stare of his…as if only she existed for him. Or, it could be that her mind had gotten a little loopy from all the testosterone enfolding her.
Her brow pressed to his chest, she clutched his jacket, and something crinkled inside his pocket. Kira shut her eyes as the world around her dissolved. Ack, he was like a two-year-old with his hidden stash of candies. The protective shield she’d erected around herself wavered.
God, no! She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let it collapse. With someone like Týr, it wouldn’t end well, not for her.
Chapter 7
The noise level in the bar rose, ricocheting in Kira’s head. The boisterous guffaws and chatter drowned out the sounds of the television. She really needed some serious shut-eye. Hours of it. But with Tomas missing, it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
Inhaling a tired breath, she picked up her tray from the counter and navigated the packed bar to the back table. A half hour more, and she could leave… Týr would be here. Her tummy dipped at the thought—
“Hey, sweet-cheeks?” A sweaty, rotund man slung his arm around her waist. “How about another round here? The usual, and bring your sweet smile, too.”
“Sure. Coming right up.” Kira forced a sweet smile while peeling off the drunk’s fingers from her hips. If he touched her again, she would clobber him.
“Hey…” Someone put a hand on her back.
“What?” She spun around, ready to thump another touchy-feely idiot with her tray. And frowned. “Riley?”
“Yeah. You look a little…harassed.” Those bright green eyes searched hers in concern. “You okay?
Kira nodded, blowing a few escaped strands of hair away from her face. “Just tired. Had lots to do recently, and not enough sleep. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, I’m good. Can we talk? It’s important. Somewhere quiet would be better.”
Aw, man. She groaned.
A wry chuckle escaped him. “You forgot.”
“No, I
remembered, then…yeah, I forgot. Sorry.” Kira scrunched her nose with a rueful look. “Wait, I know the perfect place. Give me a sec.” She hurried to the counter, squeezed through the customers, and set her tray down. “Brian?” she yelled. “Can I use your office for a few minutes?”
“Sure…” His gaze shifted behind her. “I trust you.”
Kira crossed her eyes in exasperation. As if she had any shenanigans planned, which, even if she did, she certainly wouldn’t tell her boss. “Come.” She smiled at Riley and made her way down the short passage to the cramped back office. Her cell buzzed. She retrieved it from her apron pocket. Not Liam or Shadow, but some darn spam message.
Riley shut the door behind him, cutting off the noise from the bar.
“So?” Kira set her phone onto the cluttered desk, dropped onto Brian’s rickety chair and arched a curious brow. “You’re all mysterious.”
After a moment, Riley gingerly lowered himself to the creaky old leather seat opposite her. Arms braced on his thighs, he leaned forward. “Did you ever wonder about your parents?”
Of all things, that was the last question she expected. Kira stared at him in confusion. “Yes, often. Not that it helps since they both died when I was one. Why?”
Riley rubbed his jaw as if in contemplation. “Your father…sent me.”
She snorted. “Yeah, sure. Look, I’ve work to do—”
“He’s not dead, Kira.”
At his solemn expression, she blinked. Wait, he was serious?
“No…” She shook her head. Old, painful memories speared her mind, the many parent-teacher meetings, the school plays, her piano recitals, and only Gran there for her. Worse, the pity she got from the other kids’ parents. That and the childhood taunts…they all spilled free from the box she’d shoved all her old hurts into. Poor orphan Kira!
“Kira—”
“No!” She lurched to her feet, sending the chair skating back. “My father is dead. It’s cruel of you to play this game.” It was something she’d yearned for so badly when she was younger. And now this. “Besides, my grandmother would have said something.”
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