In The Dark (The Guardianship Trilogy Book 1)

by Sarah K. Jensen

  “I need you safe. And don’t tell me it’s not my problem, because it is. You were shot by a man who is your friend. Kyrell and Vels came into your room.”

  Memphis watched him warily. “I know this may be difficult for you, being a Neanderthal and all, but I was raised a Guardian, just as you were. I have been fighting since I was twelve and saw Night Shadows before that. This world is not new to me, so there is no reason for you to worry.”

  Laif snorted in a very un-eloquent manner, but Memphis cut him off before he could say there was no choice, he’d worry about her for the rest of his life. “We are not in a relationship. We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend.” The crispness of her voice eased slightly. “We hardly know each other.”

  She didn’t just cut him off by steamrolling over what he’d meant to say, Memphis reduced him and his feelings to nothing. The knot that had begun to unravel in his gut tightened back up, pushing bile into his throat. For a few seconds, he couldn’t speak. Had he been so wrong with what he thought he’d seen in her eyes? Did she not want him around?

  Suddenly, the expression on her face softened. “Don’t,” she whispered.

  Whatever she read on his face bothered him. She seemed able to see into his soul, meaning she held all the cards. He wanted to rage at her, tell her to find a way to sleep without him because he wasn’t going to keep opening himself up to her that way.

  “This is happening too fast. I need to think. You need to figure out if you really want to get to know me because I can tell you now, this—” she waved her hand in the air over the both of them— “he-man attitude will get you nowhere fast.”

  “I—um…” Laif cleared the clogged air from his throat and took a deep breath. “I want to know you.”

  Light beamed from her eyes and he relaxed instantly. “I think we should start,” she said, and her full, light-pink lips formed a slight frown, “or, er, continue may be the right word, this what-ever-it-is between us a little slower. The intensity scares me.”

  He sighed in relief and lowered himself back to the bed, again taking her hand in his. It wouldn’t take much to scare her away, and if he said anymore on the subject, he might do just that. She didn’t think they were in a relationship, but that was exactly what this was, and he intended to show her. Slowly if need be.

  Her lithe body remained tense for some time, and then finally, Memphis relaxed. “Remind me to tell you a story in the morning about being a Guardian. You may learn something.”

  Laif heard the tired humor in her voice and smiled. He wouldn’t be surprised—considering the griffin on her stomach and side he’d seen when he’d held her in the cab—if she couldn’t teach all of them a thing or two about being a Guardian. Though that galled him a bit, he loved a good story, especially if it was her telling it in that sexy, husky voice of hers.

  Soon Memphis drifted off into a peaceful sleep. But not Laif. Instead, he spent much of the rest of the night trying to figure out how he’d break things off for good with Paulina Winthrop, and how he’d get the woman curled next to him to agree to marry him.

  Chapter 12

  The Isle of Éire, 1457

  Nuadha sliced his great broadsword upward, cutting straight through the innards of John Conner. The vile man who’d personally been responsible for the rape and murder of, not only his mother but his two younger sisters.

  It mattered not to Nuadha that the man had been possessed by the demons his grandfather had freed from the underworld. Nor did it matter that he had once been called friend. All that mattered at that moment, was vengeance for his family. A family he would never see again.

  A woman’s cry brought Nuadha to a halt. He had seen no one else around. Just his old friend, who’d still been possessed until moments before, when his special blade had ended both the life of John and the existence of the demon.

  Movement to his left brought him around lightning fast. Wild black hair flew behind the woman’s head, matted and caked in blood. Her coarse, brown woolen gown was torn, held together only by her hands, and the pale, blue kirtle underneath, too, seemed ripped.

  Madness played through her golden eyes. She yelled out again, stumbled, and went down to her knees before him.

  “Please,” she whispered, barely breathing.

  John Conner was forgotten as he scooped up the woman that everything in him screamed he must protect at all costs. Without much thought, he mounted Whisper, his mighty black warhorse, and rode for home.

  His father had died years past, just after Nuadha had passed his sixteenth year. Now, at five and twenty, his father’s croft belonged to him. And until two days before, his mother and two sisters.

  His older sister, Síofra, and her husband, Liam Kelly, lived twenty miles to the south, where they were raising their three daughters to fight the evil which Nuadha often fought when he wasn’t battling for his lord, The Earl of Desmond.

  The woman in his arms was no bigger than a mite, small-boned, and fragile. She slumped against his shoulder and for a second, he thought maybe she had died, but then her breath caught on his neck and a powerful lust shot straight to his loins. Of course, he would not act on it. He could not.

  His Uncle Ian, though not of any real blood relation, told him that in order to use his sword, and to see the demons he fought, he’d have to wait ‘til marriage before he could take a woman. He was the only man he knew who had not bedded a woman. Many women. Yet, he needed the sight given him through his father, and somehow, his sister’s fae mother, to stay alive.

  Knowing that had not stopped his wanting to take a woman. To find someone to make his own. Actually, he’d met many women he’d have liked to have taken. Nuadha had remarkable restraint, both physical and mental.

  As he glanced down at the woman in his arms, he knew he’d have to call on all his strength to hold on to that restraint. Whisper soared over hills and rocks, taking them to his home without much guidance from Nuadha.

  The woman suddenly grabbed his tunic, opened her golden eyes, and screamed.

  “Shhh, lass, I will no’ hurt ye.”

  Her eyes widened for just an instant, then a calmness seemed to settle over her. She looked around, then asked, “Where are ye takin’ me?”

  “To me ‘ome, then on to me sister’s land. I fear ‘tis no’ safe for either of us ‘ere.” He wasn’t sure why he felt that way since he didn’t know who the woman was. He’d remember if he’d ever set eyes on her beautiful, elfin face before. Maybe she was fae, like Síofra.

  “Aye, ‘tis no’ safe fer me. Ol’ John’s men were af’er me. Possessed by the demons, they were. And too many of them fer me to fight alone.”

  Nuadha brought Whisper to a halt and took the woman by the chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Yer familiar with the demons?”

  She nodded, pursing chapped, heart-shaped lips. Lips Nuadha would very much like to taste. But he shook off the thought; there were more pressing matters to be dealt with than that of tasting the girl in his arms.

  “How do ye know of these demons?” he asked, again focused.

  She bit down on her top lip and tried to look away, but he held her chin firmly. “I know no’ wha’ ye speak. I misspoke.”

  “No, ye did no’.” Nuadha wanted to shake her but held himself in check. “The man I killed was yer Ol’ John and he was possessed by these demons. So, if ye know some’in’ ye’d better be tellin’ me now.”

  Closing her eyes, she said in a small voice, “I am no’ from ‘ere. I was brough’ ‘ere by me brother to find me lifemate. Those men found me first.”

  Nuadha wanted to scream out his rage. She had a lifemate? No. He was her mate. He knew it in his soul. “Yer lifemate, ‘ave ye found ‘im?”

  The woman, no more than ten and nine years, stared into his eyes, then smiled. “Aye. I believe I ‘ave.”

  With clenched teeth, Nuadha asked, “And what is yer lifemate’s name?”

  A look of confusion played across her face. “I know no’. What is yer name?”r />
  Nuadha smiled, just barely leashing in his joy. “I am Nuadha. Tell me, wench, yer name.”

  The beauty stiffened. “Wench, is it? I shall no’ tell ye until ye take that back.”

  On a deep laugh, Nuadha shook his head. “Fine, wench shall be yer name ‘til ye wish me to call ye some’in’ else.”

  With that, Nuadha spurred Whisper into a gallop. Once he reached his home, he quickly saddled his mother’s small mare, Glenda, gathered a tent, blankets, and everything else he’d need for a long journey and tied it to the mare his sisters had shared. He transferred the wench from Whispers back to Glenda’s and set out for Síofra’s.

  It was closing in on dusk when Nuadha brought the horses to a stop and tethered them to a tree near a small stream to drink. The wench had ridden well, and that pleased him. Now, she dismounted her mare and unhitched the saddle. Without being asked, she took the horse’s blanket and began wiping the beast down. Good. She knew about horses and wouldn’t be a hindrance to him.

  As they worked in relative silence, she continued to bite her upper lip. Suddenly, she fisted her hands and put them on her small hips. “Gael. Me name is Gael.”

  Nuadha smiled. “As much as I like the way that rolls off yer tongue, I think I’ll continue on with wench.”

  Gael’s cheeks reddened to a deep crimson and it seemed as if smoke would pour out of her ears any second. He loved that look on her and was instantly aroused. “Ye continue to call me that, and ye will wish ye’d never met me.”

  Nuadha laughed. Loudly. “And what would a mite like ye do to a big strapping man like meself?”

  Gold began to swirl in her eyes until they turned dark as night. She moved her lips, but Nuadha heard nothing. His clothes burst on fire at that moment, and he dropped to the ground and rolled around to put out the flames.

  “Oh! My lord, it’s sorry I am. Are ye hurt?” Gael flung herself to his side, and whispered other words, causing the burned clothes to mend and the pain to recede.

  Nuadha stared into her eyes, which had again become a clear golden color, and asked, “What are ye?”

  “Ye will no’ believe,” she said, sure of his lack of ability to believe in things, not of this world.

  “I fight the demons,” Nuadha said. “My sister is part fae. I will believe.”

  She leaned into him and kissed him. His world erupted into brilliant colors and the story of her life played behind his eyes.

  Chapter 13

  Texas, Present Day

  Laif’s body stirred and he opened his eyes. It was still dark out, not yet dawn. Memphis rolled toward him and placed her hand on his chest. With only a thin t-shirt between her hand and his chest, the reaction that slammed into him stole his breath. His body ached to the point of pain. Need, raw and powerful, crashed and sliced through his blood, burning him. He had to touch her. He couldn’t stop himself. Not that he truly tried.

  His hand moved to her leg, over the flimsy hospital gown, and up and over her hip. She moaned and inched closer to him. He caught on fire. He had never known need so primal. All thoughts of right and wrong fled. Only Memphis and need remained.

  “Memphis,” he all but growled, like an animal that had cornered and pinned its prey. His hand continued its path up, over a small waist, covering ribs he could feel, stopping just short of their goal.

  She opened her eyes in a sleepy, half-mast, sexy way, smiled, and said, “Hi.”

  His body shuddered with the need. He rose on his forearm and scooted her underneath him. As he lowered his head to take her mouth, she shook her head, and whispered, “No. Please stop. I can’t.”

  Her body arched upwards, begging for his touch, despite her verbal protest. But the tears beading in her eyes broke the spell enough that Laif was able to drop back to his side. “I’m sorry. That was not intended.”

  “I know,” she spoke with a shaky voice. “But it’s too fast. Too soon.”

  He nodded and pushed himself off the bed. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll, uh, just sit here for a while.”

  He dropped heavily into the chair he’d spent the last few days in and sighed, trying to remember all the reasons he needed to go slower. And of the commitments he’d made to himself, his family, and to God.

  He’d come way too close to losing it tonight. Somehow, he’d have to be more careful. He blew out a heavy breath. “So… you were going to tell me a story.”

  Memphis smiled shakenly at him, took his hand, and casually rubbed her thumb over his wrist. Heat seared his skin at her touch.

  “Maybe,” he said withdrawing his hand from hers, “we shouldn’t touch at all for a while.”

  Swallowing hard, Memphis folded her arms over her breasts and sighed. “This should not be so difficult. I won’t allow anything to happen.” The last was said with fire.

  Laif nodded, cleared his throat. “You’re right. I won’t allow anything to happen either. I’ll figure this out. Just tell me what you know about the Guardians.”

  She closed her eyes for a few minutes, seemed to collect herself, and said, “You still don’t really believe in the Tuatha Dé Danann, People of the Goddess Danu, do you?”

  Laif bit back a smile. “Not really, no. I mean, I know you and my dad do, but come on, who believes in Tinker Bell on steroids?”

  Her left brow rose, and her eyes turned a cold emerald. “The Tuatha Dé Danann are not tiny fairies on steroids. They’re an ancient people who shared Ireland and parts of Scotland with us before they grew tired of the mundane—” she made air-quotes “—world we live in and returned to their own island world.”

  “Yeah,” Laif said with a smirk, “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it all before. Is there more to the story than what you told us earlier?”

  “I wouldn’t mock the Tuatha Dé Danann if I were you. They are very powerful and could probably smite you or something equally bad. Besides if you want to know what I learned about Nuadha, you will shut up and listen.”

  Taken back by the anger in her voice, Laif reached for her, tugging her hand free and smoothing her fist out, loosening her fingers. Her heartbeat leaped and he couldn’t hide the smile.

  “I’m sorry if I offended you. I know this is important to you. I’m listening.”

  “Most legends have some truth to them, don’t they? You can’t tell me you are so small-minded to scoff at something like the stories of our people after you know the Oíche Scáthanna are real. You fight these monsters, yet make fun of me for believing the legends of how the demons got here?”

  Laif felt truly chastised. “Yeah. I fight them. And you’re right. I was being a jerk, but I promise to let you tell me the rest and won’t tease or make fun anymore. At least not about this.”

  That should settle her hackles back down, he thought. And she was right, if Night Shadows were real, then the fae could be as well. Besides, he really wanted to hear her talk.

  “Fine,” Memphis said, straightening her shoulders. “The Goddess Danu married Bilé, the god of death, and had a son, Dagda. Dagda’s daughter, Brigid, was the great-great-grandmother of Áinle. Anyway—” Memphis freed her wrist, raked her hands through her hair, and twisted it, in what Laif figured was a nervous habit.

  “Áinle’s mother, it was reported, was seduced by the Druid named Ciaran. He was said to be a beautiful and strong man, one who could charm and seduce any maiden.”

  “Okay, not the best thing to hear about one’s great-great, however many greats grandpaps. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being hot and strong to women, but seducing maidens.” He shook his head in mock horror.

  Memphis scowled. “Do you find this funny?”

  Sobering up, Laif gave a slight shake of the head. “No. Sorry. Just trying to keep things light. You’re telling the story like you’re reading it from a book.”

  She huffed. “That’s because I’ve read it so many times. But that’s not the point. Do you want to hear this or not?”

  Laif leaned back in his chair, resigned to listen. “I want to hear it.”
>
  Memphis took a deep breath and continued her story. “Anyway, like I said, Ciaran was a really powerful Druid. He studied ancient records about the Tuatha Dé Danann, learned that he could summon their women with a ritual promising sexual favors. Áinle’s mother came, and when she discovered she was pregnant, she left her people and returned to Ciaran.

  “He learned from her about the demons of the underworld; how they had been summoned centuries before to rid the earth of a group of Druids who’d turned evil, seeking to destroy the Tuatha Dé Danann and controlling humans they felt were weaker than them.”

  “Wait.” Laif stretched and rubbed his face, suddenly much more tired. “You’re saying that the fairies brought Night Shadows to earth to kill Druids? Why not just kill them themselves?”

  Memphis gave a one-shoulder shrug, reminding him of the stubborn way she’d acted in his parents’ kitchen. A way he found utterly sexy.

  “According to the legend, there are laws about killing humans. That if they do, those who deal the death blow would suffer the pains of death over and over again, for as many years as the human had lived on the earth. Granted, time is different on the isle of the Tuatha Dé Danann, but that is not a pain any fae would want. So, to get around the law, they summoned the Oíche Scáthanna.”

  “And they thought to control them?” Laif leaned back and crossed his arms in disbelief. “Do these people, or fae, or whatever they are, really believe that they can control pure evil beings?

  “I mean, these are creatures that refused the Plan of God and were kicked out of Heaven. These are beings that forfeited this life and a body so that they could serve Satan. And these fae believed themselves powerful enough that they could control beings that God himself wouldn’t.”

  A deep, masculine laugh filled the room. The air sizzled with a current unlike any Laif had ever felt before, and his heart slammed against his chest in an irregular rhythm.