He tried to keep the anger out of his voice. “Well, you were busy with Mark.”
She stiffened. “He was worse off, and Tristan was taking care of you.”
Tilting his head, he stared at her. “Whatever you have to tell yourself, babe.”
Something flashed in her eyes. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have come by, but I’m here now.”
How helpful. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’m not like Mark. I don’t need you fussing over me like I’m helpless.”
“He wasn’t helpless. He was just—“
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Like I said. I didn’t need you here. In fact, I don’t need you for much. I’m a fucking demon who can take care of his own damn self.”
Now he was sure it was anger in her eyes. “Why are you being such an ass?”
“I know since you got back you’ve gotten used to us all focused on you, but I think you’re strong enough now that I don’t have to coddle you anymore. If that makes me an ass, then I guess I’m an ass.”
Her hands planted on her hips. “I never needed you to coddle me!”
He smirked. “Look, I have some work to do. Maybe Mark is fine dealing with your hysterics, but I don’t have the patience for it.”
“You’re an asshole,” she hissed, then turning, she stomped out the door.
When it shut, he sank back in his chair. Why did his entire chest ache? He rubbed at it, staring at the door. He needed to call his team. He needed to keep busy, but he just kept staring at the door, wondering what he was supposed to do.
There was no way he could let Surcy know how much she hurt him. He would keep her at arm’s length for a while, until he licked his wounds a bit. He knew logically everything he’d done made perfect sense.
So why did it feel so wrong?
When I was alive, women told me I was unlovable. Surcy made me believe they were wrong. But maybe she was just crazy.
I don’t even love myself.
Chapter Twelve
Surcy dressed in jeans and a black shirt. While she was putting on her boots, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her clothes were getting tight. Instead of hanging off of her, they were hugging her curves. She couldn’t decide if it was sexy, or just meant she needed to get some new clothes.
Daniel would probably say the latter.
Anger flared within her. She was so sick of his attitude. She didn’t know what the hell crawled up his butt, but she had started avoiding him like the plague.
There was a knock at her door.
A smile touched her lips. Mark always knocked, even though he’d been sharing her bed since he’d been hurt.
“Come in!”
But when the door opened, it was Tristan. “May I speak to you a moment?”
She nodded, as a tingle moved down her spine. This man did things to her. Every time she looked at his big hands, she thought of what they felt like touching her. When he spoke, her gaze was glued to his mouth, remembering what his kiss was like.
And she hated that she wasn’t able to hide her thoughts better.
He seated himself at the little white chair in front of her vanity. Looking like an adult squeezing into a kid’s chair.
She smiled. How could such a big man be so quiet? So gentle?
“I would like to discuss Daniel.”
Her happiness fled, and every muscle in her body tensed. “Why?”
“He is not himself, and I feel the change has to do with something that happened between the two of you.”
She raised her chin. “I didn’t do a thing. The guy just has a giant stick up his ass that someone needs to help him remove.”
Tristan lifted a brow. “Daniel is volatile. All fire mages are, but something triggered his mood.”
“You’d have to ask him about that!”
The big man sighed. “You too have been having sex for some time.”
It took her a minute to realize her mouth was hanging open before she closed it. “You knew?”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t hard for an astute observer to notice.”
Her heart raced. “We worried you guys would be mad.”
“Mad?” he shook his head. “I would not be mad that my good friend and the woman we love were having sex. I would caution you about taking such an action with him though. As you have seen, Daniel’s feelings run deeply, and he is not good at handling them.”
“Us having sex didn’t start this.”
He didn’t look convinced. “How much time have you and Daniel spent getting to know each other?”
She felt her cheeks heat. “I mean, we live together, so it isn’t like we’re strangers.”
“Two people can live together and not know one another. Think about roommates. About loveless marriages. Connecting with someone takes time and energy.”
Something about his words made her uncomfortable. “I guess we don’t know each other all that well, but we do know each other.”
“So he spoke to you of his difficult childhood and of his many failed relationships?”
She stiffened. “No, I guess... I didn’t really think about it.”
Tristan was silent for a long minute. “Fire mages are rare. From a young age they are sensitive. They cry often, anger easily, and sleep little. Most are given away. Like Daniel, who grew up in many different foster homes. But unlike most mages, he did not understand what he was until he became an adult. He had no one to guide him in his magic and no one to warn him.”
“Warn him?” she repeated, clenching her hands in her lap.
“Fire fuels fire mages. It makes them stronger and more powerful, but it also makes them crazed. Like a drug addict needing their next fix. They can function normally, using their magic just when needed, but it takes a lot of time and training... which Daniel was never given. He grew to be a man who was passionate. Successful in business. He had cars, homes, and material possessions. Many ‘friends’ clung to him at clubs as he showered them in gifts and liquor. But he had few who truly cared for him.”
Tristan stared off for a moment, as if lost in thought. “When he describes his life, it is first with a zest for all the things he had. But in quiet moments, he describes a very lonely man, desperate for human companionship. He reached for women to make him feel whole, but none knew him well enough to see the broken child within him. When they walked away, it only made him feel more worthless. And so, he turned to his fire more and more. But a fire mage cannot endure the flames forever. And one day they killed him.”
“I—I had no idea.”
“When we journeyed together in the demon realm, he reached for fire every time he hurt. And we would stop him. We were there for him. His friends no matter what side of himself he showed. The day he realized we would not abandon him no matter what, he broke. Never had he imagined that people could see his flaws and still love him.”
Her eyes stung. “That’s awful.”
“I am protective of Daniel in a way that I am not of Mark. Mark is a man who has known love. Who has known kindness. And even though he has also been hurt and known cruelty, he can process his feelings in a way Daniel cannot. When I see you with Daniel, I see a side to you that I do not like. I feel that you have not taken the time to see him for who he is, and you crush him with a reckless cruelty you do not understand.”
“That’s not true!” she argued.
Tristan held up a hand. “Sensitive people lead difficult lives. They either find people who treasure how precious that is, or they find a way to hide who they are from the world in fear. He has many, many defenses to protect how vulnerable he is. And you, a woman he loves, can smash those defenses with a wave of your hand.”
“I never try to hurt him,” she said, but the fight was out of her voice.
“But you do,” he stared. “And sometimes intention means less than action. Your actions are cruel. Even if you don’t remember our lives together, we do. Use your empathy.”
“I tried to talk to him...”<
br />
He cocked his head. “And that is enough for you? You feel that you have done enough to be kind to someone who loves you?”
“Damn,” she muttered. “You really know how to make a person feel like crap.”
He frowned. “I am being kind to you. If you were another woman, I would have taken greater action for hurting my friend so badly.”
“Like beating her up?” She asked with a grin.
“Beating?” His jaw dropped. “I do not beat women!”
She couldn’t stop the laugh that exploded from her lips. “It was a joke.”
He rose. “Your humor is... awful.”
That made her laugh harder. “I wasn’t saying you beat women! Just joking about what you do to protect Daniel!”
He crossed the room and planted his hands on both sides of the bed beside her. She was forced to lean back with his face inches from her own. “The only woman I have hit was you, when you begged me to spank you. Hard.”
Her cheeks grew hot. “I have not!”
His mouth quirked. “You have. And you will again.”
She leaned in, desperate for his kiss.
He stood, his cock level with her mouth. “Think about that, sweet Surcy.”
When he turned and left, it took her a long minute to remember to breathe. Damn sexy gargoyles!
And then, she thought of their conversation. Daniel seemed so... angry and tough. Was it really possible that she was hurting him? She’d started to imagine that he had never really loved her, or that maybe he couldn’t love who she was now. But if she accepted what Tristan said... and Daniel loved her but was just too broken to show her that he did, well, she was a complete ass.
She rose and froze. What would she say to him?
Something in her chest ached to find him. Her thoughts kept flashing to the man Tristan described. Someone who had never really known real love other than with her. If she could go to here and now and declare her feelings for him, she would. But do I know how I feel?
Instead of running to his room, she went to her balcony and stared out at Mark’s carefully tended garden, and beyond the treetops to the city that surrounded them. “Damn it, if only I could remember!”
Frustration blossomed within her. It wasn’t fair! If she could just remember, then she could honestly tell him she loved him. But as of now? She felt something for him... but it wasn’t love yet, and she couldn’t lie to him. Going to him now, what could she offer him? Pity.
Daniel wouldn’t want that.
She hated how helpless that made her feel.
So, she remained rooted in place, her hands clenched around the railing. Her mind far away—with a demon she wasn’t sure she’d ever understand.
No matter how much she wanted to.
Chapter Thirteen
The sound of someone knocking at Surcy’s door filtered out to the balcony. Exhaling slowly, she willed herself to be ready for whatever she might face next, then turned and walked back into her room. “Come in.”
Mark entered, and she swore he looked worse than before. Is he losing weight?
“Did you use it again?” She hadn’t intended it, but the words came out harshly, almost as bad as an accusation.
He winced. “Yes.”
“And you’ve found another Immortal?”
He nodded.
“Maybe... maybe this time just Daniel and Tristan and I should go,” she offered, knowing it would change nothing.
He drew himself up taller. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re—“
“None of you could find him without me, so this is how it is. There’s no use in discussing it.”
She wanted to argue, but she bit her lip.
“Can you join us at the table?” He held out his hand.
She smiled at the simple gesture and went to him, taking the hand he offered. Instantly, a tingle ran between them, and she moved closer, planting a kiss softly on his lips.
He looked down at her, his blue eyes filled with happiness. “I can’t believe you’re real.”
She touched the stubble on his chin. “Of course I am.”
“It’s just... sometimes when I look at you, all I can think about was the first time we met, how the sun bathed you in light. How we were all worried you’d find out what we were and send us back to the demon-realm.”
Her smile faded. “I wish I remembered.”
“I do too.” His gaze ran over her. “It’s strange to have a whole lifetime of moments with you, and for you to remember none of it. I keep trying to push them away, but they’re still there.”
“I wonder which of us this is stranger for.”
He tilted his head. “It’s painful to remember, but I’d never want to forget.”
She kissed him again, overwhelmed with sadness. “Shall we join the others?”
He nodded and tugged her gently out of the room, his hand still holding hers.
At the table, Daniel and Tristan were eating massive sandwiches, with chips piled high on their plates. When Daniel looked up, his gaze moved to their held hands. He put his sandwich down and stared at his plate.
Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable. She was glad when Mark released her hand and sat down at the table.
“I’ve found another Immortal. And there’s possibly more of them. But there’s a catch.”
“Isn’t there always?” Daniel grumbled.
Mark ignored him. “The next Immortal... I think he may be a dragon.”
“Dragon?” Tristan frowned. “That should be no great problem. Dragons walk among us even now. They are hot-tempered, and conceal their dragon-forms with powerful glamours, but I would think with their egos, they’d be pleased to be named an Immortal.”
Mark shook his head. “There’s something wrong with this dragon. He’s... dangerous.”
Tristan looked unconvinced. “Many believe gargoyles to be strange and dangerous.”
“No,” Mark said. “We need to be prepared for a fight here.”
Tristan shrugged. “I always am.”
They rose from the table and equipped themselves with weapons. As Surcy pulled her daggers from the weapon’s chest, her hand recoiled as she brushed against the gun. Her flesh tingled uncomfortably at its nearness. She wasn’t sure why most paranormal beings hated the feel of the weapons, but she knew they often malfunctioned when they were around any way.
The demons likely keep it here just in case it’s needed.
Closing the chest, she went back out into the main room, where her demons were ready. Mark sat on a chair, his hands pressed against his temple. Another warning sang through her blood, but she pushed it aside. He knew his limits. Right?
“Ready?” Tristan asked, and she knew he was aware of her worries.
She nodded.
Mark rose slowly, and they went to Surcy. They all took hands, and she closed her eyes as Mark sent the image to her. It looked like a mountain top in the clouds. It was a place she could have never imagined, but the picture was all she needed to teleport them there. Taking a deep breath, she felt her powers flow around them. A minute later, the four of them stood on the ledge of the mountain.
“Fuck,” Daniel muttered, moving back from the edge. “Of course it had to be high up.”
Tristan shifted into his gargoyle form, his wings spreading wide behind him as his flesh changed to the stunning color of wet-stone.
She tore her gaze from him and placed a steadying hand on Mark, who looked even paler. “I think this is as close as I could teleport to it.”
“Dragons don’t like to be disturbed and always create shields around their lairs.” Tristan explained slowly. But then, he looked up and frowned. “But unlike the legend, they don’t enjoy living in desolate caves. They enjoy wealth and beauty, such as large manors and castles. This seems... unusual.”
She glanced up to the cloud-covered top of the mountain. “We had better start climbing if we plan on being there any time soon. And, uh, maybe Tristan should take Mark up, so he can
get a good view of the place and see if there is anything else he can tell us about it.”
Tristan nodded and wrapped his arms around Mark. It worried her that the druid didn’t refuse him. In seconds, Tristan began to flap his large, stone wings and rose above them, disappearing within the clouds.
“No problem, we can climb,” Daniel muttered, turning to the almost sheer rock, his eyes travelling slowly up.
Surcy moved beside him, reached up, finding a handhold, and pulled herself up. It wasn’t that she enjoyed climbing, but without her wings, she was left with little choice. She hoped Tristan had the sense not to leave Mark alone at the top.
The climb was more of a challenge than she ever expected. Sweat made her clothes stick uncomfortably to every inch of her body, and she was breathing hard. Several times she nearly lost her grip, but Daniel was always there, one hand clenching the back of her shirt as she gained a stronger handheld.
Glancing up, she saw the top of the mountain just above them and knew her shaking legs would thank her when she got to solid land.
But just as her mouth curled into a smile, a roar shook the earth, sending tiny rocks and dirt raining down onto them. She had to press closer to the rock to keep from falling, even while her heart raced.
“What the fuck was that?” Daniel asked, sounding out of breath.
“I’m guessing an angry dragon.”
He said nothing, but neither of them moved for a long minute, as if waiting for a dragon to come bursting toward them. When nothing terrible happened, she took a deep breath and looked above her once more. They needed to get to the top. If Tristan and Mark were facing an angry dragon, they would need all the help they could get.
She reached for the next handheld.
Chapter Fourteen
Tristan could not take his gaze from the dragon. Gargoyles were not quick to anger. Their decisions were made with intelligence and strategy, not influenced by emotion. But rage consumed him now. This... was wrong.
The dragon had black scales at one point, but now they were nearly gray. Its flesh hung from its grotesquely thin body, and its wings had patchy holes. The chains that bound its neck were thick and covered in spikes, which even now bit into its flesh, sending dark blood running down its scales in rivulets.
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