She and Cory had similar phones. After mistakenly grabbing the other’s so much, she finally bought a blue case for hers so they could easily differentiate. Her phone currently tucked inside her briefcase in the office.
“The phone received a text message when Bucky picked it up. It said to come in.”
“Come in? What does that mean?”
Saint shifted in his seat. “That’s what Bucky wanted to know and being Bucky…”
“She snooped.” Bucky knew everything that went on in the region seven council headquarters. Some people thought she might be psychic, but Celia knew the old woman had eyes and ears everywhere.
“Yeah.” Saint nodded. “She looked into the messages on the phone and discovered it belonged to Cory and she had been in contact with a Sorcerer who works for the Kakos named Ian.”
Ian? A name Celia had never heard from Cory.
“Ian asked for information about region seven. The Enforcers, the scientists…you.”
She snapped her head up with shock. “Me?”
Heart racing, her palms began to sweat. What did the Kakos want with her? A tremor of unease wracked her body and she shivered despite the warm room. A strong firm hand gripped her shoulder in a comforting gesture. Glancing up and over her shoulder, she saw Damien gently smiling down at her. He didn’t say anything, but a wealth of compassion reflected in his eyes. That alone gave her the strength to turn back to Saint for an explanation.
“Cory informed them you were working on a translation for their language and you had already translated some of it. They didn’t seem to like that very much.”
No, she suspected they wouldn’t. “What else did they want to know about me?”
Saint hesitated, his gaze going to Damien before answering. “Your whereabouts.”
She swallowed against the cold fear now clogging her throat. They wanted to know her location and she would put money on the fact they didn’t ask because they wanted to make a social call. She worked to decode their secret language. That had to piss them off and a pissed off Kako was a dangerous Kako. Well, a more dangerous Kako.
“Did she tell them I was coming here?”
Saint nodded with a mixture of sadness and fury. “She did. Cory betrayed us, but you worst of all. I’m so sorry, Celia.”
She nodded, too numb to speak. Cory had betrayed them, every person who stood on the side of good, the side of protection. In her betrayal, Cory had endangered the lives of thousands of innocent humans. How many people had their souls taken away by the information Cory fed to the Kakos? And why hadn’t Celia seen it? How had she not known her assistant made a deal with the devil? Had she always been a double agent or did the Kakos get to her after her hiring? So many questions that needed answers, Celia decided to start with the one most pressing on her mind.
“Where is Cory now?”
“Gone. Racine has three teams out tracking her, but she left sometime this morning. We’re not sure why she left her phone or if she was in a hurry and simply forgot it.”
“I guess it’s lucky for us she did.” A sliver of light in a sea of darkness.
Saint scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry, Celia. I know how much it hurts to be betrayed by those you trust.”
From behind her, Damien spoke for the first time since Saint began talking. “We are going to keep you safe, Celia.”
What? Oh right, the Kakos knew she was working on translating their language and now aware of her new location. To be honest, she hadn’t really thought about it. She didn’t want to think about it. If they captured her, what would they do? Torture her? Lock her up somewhere? Kill her? If captured, she prayed for a quick death. She could not endure imprisonment.
Not again.
Saint stood. Celia followed suit, though surprised she managed considering her shaky legs. A steadying hand on her back from Damien helped support her. Again, she was grateful for it. She avoided physical contact with people at all times, but with Damien it felt nice, safe, comforting. A strange feeling she didn’t have time to dissect at the moment.
“Racine wants you to call him whenever you are ready.”
Oh gods, Racine! He must be livid with her. After all, she was the one who appointed Cory as her assistant giving the woman access to the inner workings at council headquarters. As if reading her thoughts, Saint continued.
“He doesn’t blame you in any way. He wanted me to make sure you understood that.”
Saint waited for her to reply so she nodded in understanding, but guilt burned a hole in her stomach. The delicious ratatouille Alex made now felt like a lead rock in her gut. It was her fault.
“You can’t blame yourself either.”
Easy for him to say. He hadn’t endangered everyone he cared about by trusting the wrong person.
Damien gave Saint a curt nod. Giving her one last look of compassion and understanding, Saint left, leaving Celia alone with Damien. He still held her, his strong hand firmly on her lower back. She should have been unnerved, should have shied away, but instead she found herself leaning into his touch. Turning her head, she glanced up at him.
“I need to call Racine.”
A scowl darkened his face. His brows drew together. “Are you sure? He’s probably okay with you calling him after you’ve had time to absorb everything.”
She smiled up at him. Where had the controlling impatient council leader gone? The man who wanted a status update every hour? Just yesterday, Damien had been adamant about her spending every waking moment on the Kako language even if she had a stroke while doing it. Now, he stared at her as if she might break. He hadn’t mentioned her translations since he got the call from Racine. It almost seemed as if he were worried about her.
She brushed the thought right out of her mind. To worry about someone, they had to care and Damien did not care about her. To the extent that she finished the Kako translation maybe, but personally, no. Still, she found it odd to see this softer more relaxed side of the Euadaemon.
“I’m fine, Damien, really. Besides, I need to call and apologize.”
“It’s not your fault your assistant switched sides.” Anger drew deep lines across his forehead and she had the strangest urge to smooth them out.
“I allowed her access to highly privileged information. Information the Kakos used to hurt my friends.” Her stomach churned as she remembered the trap set for Kiernan and Tabitha, a trap set up by the mole, by Cory.
His scowl faded, softening his handsome features. Reaching up with his free hand, he stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I’m sure they don’t blame you any more than Racine does.”
True, Kiernan and Tabitha would never think ill of her because of Cory’s actions. They were good people and she was lucky to count them as friends. It still hurt to know they had suffered because of someone she trusted. Someone they all had trusted.
“I know.” She grasped his hand against her cheek, still awed by her ease with this man’s touch. “But I still need to talk to him. I still need to apologize.” It might not be her fault entirely, but she felt responsible and she never ran from responsibility.
He stared at her, a pensive gleam in his eyes. His gaze bore into her as if trying to see into the depths of her soul. Startling in its intensity, she could not look away. Those amazing gray eyes roamed down her face and settled on her lips. Something hot and charged quivered through her body, setting her nerves ablaze. Her lips parted of their own volition. She swallowed, her throat suddenly incredibly dry. Short rasps of breath came from her lips and for a moment, she was sure Damien would kiss her. For a brief second, she really, really wanted him to. Then his gaze came back up to hers. He leaned in, hand still on her cheek and gave her a soft kiss on the left temple.
“All right. Go call him, but then stop beating yourself up about this.”
Breath eased out of her lungs. She nodded, unable to get any words past the Sahara of her throat. Stepping back, he released her. She turned and headed out of his off
ice to her own. All the while wondering what the hell just happened.
Chapter 6
Damien closed the door to his office and headed down the hall to his bedroom. He wanted to talk to Celia again. To make sure she was all right. She took a devastating blow this afternoon. Betrayal by a trusted ally was a horrible thing. She had taken the blame so readily. He wanted to assure her once more it was not her fault, but the Witch had sequestered herself in her office all evening.
Now, she was even more determined to crack the Kako language. It should have made him happy. He’d wanted to understand this Kako language since he first heard of it. He should be thrilled she put her nose to the grindstone, but he wasn’t. After seeing the guilt, the shock and heartbreak on her face, he didn’t want her working tonight. A strange feeling for him.
Most of the people who worked for him would call him a hard-ass. They’d be right. Damien was head of a council. That meant lives were at stake, innocent, usually unaware lives. His job entailed protecting those lives and he took it very seriously. He had no problem being a demanding control freak if it meant he could save one person. He took his role as protector seriously. One of the reasons he received his appointment as head of region eight over a hundred years ago.
So why did he feel the need to give Celia a break? She’d looked so sad and lost when she heard the news of her assistant being the mole. All Damien had wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and promise her everything would be okay. Absurd, nothing was okay at the moment.
They had Kakos retaining their intelligence and enhancing their power by making Drones, a missing mole, whose full impact and knowledge would only be known once they caught her, and a Kako language they couldn’t understand. A lot on their plate.
On his way down the hall, he passed Celia’s office. Daylight had given in to the cloak of night. Surely, she would not still be working. Would she? He stopped in front of the office door and tapped lightly. No answer. He knocked a little louder. At the continued silence coming from the room, he decided she had indeed gone to bed. He started heading that way himself before a noise from inside the office caught his attention. It sounded like a moan.
He paused, ear pressed against the door. Another moan, this one louder and slightly painful in its sound. Was Celia hurt? Had someone gotten inside? Not likely. Damien made sure his headquarters was nearly impenetrable. State of the art security systems plus magical enhancements made region eight headquarters the safest place in the state of Washington.
Knowing all the security and magic in the world still couldn’t keep out a determined bad guy, he very quietly pushed the door open, pulling out the small dagger he kept on him at all times. He didn’t think anyone had trespassed into his home, but he was always careful. Another moan sounded from inside the room. Thoughts of Celia hurt, tortured by something rushed into his mind. Fear and anger replaced the caution in Damien’s body. He flung the door open to…nothing.
The office was dim. The only source of light came from the lamp on the desk. It illuminated the small office just enough for him to see no one except Celia occupied the space. She sat slumped over in her chair, head resting on her hands on top of the desk. A frown turned down her lips, her brow furrowed. Her eyes shut tight and her body tense as if in pain. The soft rise and fall of her breath indicated she was dreaming. A quiet whimper escaped her lips.
“Please…stop.” A shiver racked her body as the soft pleas tumbled from sleeping lips. “I’ll be good, I promise…don’t hurt me again.”
Who hurt her?
Damien’s heart broke and filled with rage as he realized Celia wasn’t just dreaming, but having a nightmare. She already had enough to deal with. She should at least get a reprieve while she slept. Not able to stand seeing her in pain—even if only in her mind—he made his way to her side. He bent down, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and shaking it gently.
“Celia,” he spoke softly. She didn’t wake, but tears formed in the corners of her eyes.
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to, Gran.”
Gran? The tears tracked down her cheeks. The visible proof of her torment gutted him. Damien lifted her head in his palms forcing her body to stir.
“Celia, honey, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
She took a shuddering breath. Her eyes fluttered open, their emerald depths hazy from sleep. She stared at him in confusion before blinking the sleepy mist away. Her brows drew together.
“Damien?”
He smiled, wiping a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. “Yes. I was just passing by and I heard you. Must have been a hell of a nightmare.”
“Nightmare?” She was still a little out of it, judging from her perplexed expression.
“Are you all right?”
The sleep cleared from her eyes as she came fully awake. Her eyes widened as she took in the situation. Celia sat back in her chair. He let her go, dropping his hands to his sides. A strange sense of loss went through him at the disconnection of skin.
“What time is it?” she asked, avoiding his question.
“A little after one.”
“In the morning?” Celia blanched. Squinting, she searched the desk for her glasses. Pushing aside some papers, she found them and shoved the black frames onto her nose. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
“Celia, you need rest. You can’t work through the night like this.”
A derisive snort escaped her as she reshuffled the papers on her desk, dismissing him.
“Sure I can. Try getting three degrees at the same time. Sleep becomes a luxury you can’t afford.”
She was tough, he’d give her that, but she needed rest, time to regroup. He placed a hand over hers, stilling her aggressive paper straightening.
“Celia, you need to get some sleep.”
Her eyes snapped up to his. “What I need is to figure out this language so we can understand what these bastards are saying and take them out.”
She was angry and if he wasn’t mistaken, frightened. That made two of them. Hell, they were all a little frightened. They needed to uncover this thing yesterday, but there was more to Celia’s fear. Guilt resided there as well. He saw it in those beautiful emerald eyes. She blamed herself for what her assistant did and now she ran herself ragged trying to make up for it. He also suspected whatever she had been dreaming about frayed her nerves.
“We will get them. I promise you that, but for now you need to rest and recharge.”
When she didn’t answer him, Damien tried another tactic. “What were you dreaming about?”
A handful of emotions passed over her face: surprise, apprehension, fear, and finally anger. Celia’s eyes narrowed. She pulled her hand out from under his. Turning from him, she grabbed her papers and began hastily shoving them into her briefcase.
“Nothing.”
“Then I’d hate to see you when you’re dreaming about something.”
She didn’t look at him, but he saw the corners of her mouth turn up in a slight smile.
“I’m fine, Damien.” The fire went out of her, but she still refused to look at him.
Anger burned in him at her refusal and her insistence she carried the blame for Cory. Catching her chin in his fingers, he turned her head, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were weary and sad. That broke his heart more.
“You are not fine,” he told her gently, holding her gaze to make sure she understood. “But you will be. As long as you go to bed and get some sleep.” At her hesitant look, he pressed on. “You can’t give me one hundred percent if you’re not running on all cylinders.”
She nodded. Finally acceptance. He let out a breath of relief, releasing her chin only so he could grasp her arm. Helping her up, he kept a gentle grip on her as they walked across the room.
“Anyone ever tell you that you can be quite bossy?”
“Yup. That’s because I am the boss. I’ve also been told, recently, I’m controlling, too.”
Her smile widened as he’d hoped it
would. They left Celia’s temporary office, closing the door softly behind them. They took the short walk up the stairs and down the hall to her room.
The second floor contained six bedrooms. The master was his. Cuthbert had the room at the far end of the hall. The other four rooms were for guests. The one across the hall was empty at the moment. Celia stayed in the room right next to his.
She looked dead on her feet as they approached her door, her body swaying into his. She was tall for a woman with generous curves in all the right places, but compared to his build she was small and slight. Her eyes drifted shut and her body slumped. Nudging her bedroom door open with his foot, Damien scooped her into his arms. He carried her into the bedroom despite her protests.
“I can walk, Damien.”
He scoffed. “Sleepwalk maybe. You’re exhausted, Celia.”
“My bed is ten feet away.” The sleepy words slurred into his chest.
“I know and you’ll get there much faster if I carry you. Unless you like sleeping on the hallway floor.”
She giggled softly, her hand resting on his chest above his heart. He wondered if she felt how fiercely it pounded. He wondered if she knew holding her, touching her, caused havoc in his body.
“Bossy.”
“And controlling.”
She smiled, her eyes still closed.
“That, too.”
He pulled back the covers and laid her on the bed. Removing her sensible black pumps, he placed them on the floor. She would be uncomfortable sleeping in her skirt and blouse, but no way was he removing those. A man only had so much willpower around a woman like Celia. Besides, she was so tired, he didn’t think she would even notice.
He pulled the covers over her, tucking her in. She sighed and it sounded happy. That made him smile. He hoped she would get past this betrayal. The wounded look in her eyes earlier almost brought him to his knees. He was getting far too emotionally involved with her. A very dangerous thing. Nothing could come of it, but he couldn’t stop himself from caring. Or wanting.
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