“What are you waiting for, woman? Use your dark gift!” shouted Tyrius over the sounds of fists hitting flesh and talons tearing up skin.
“I don’t know how!” I yelled back, my elated feeling faltering as I stared at my hands. “It’s not like Lucian gave me an instruction manual!” Was it supposed to come out of my fingers? I shook my hands like I would if they were wet. Damn. How did this thing work? I’d forgotten to ask the archdemon before he left. Did I need incantations like Ethan and the others? Or was this gift just supposed to show itself?
Straightening, I searched for Ethan, but Layla caught my attention.
She stood with her back against the wall, her hands lowered, away from the fight with a lost look in her eyes.
I sucked in a breath as a vampire came thrashing her way. Layla looked up and merely slammed her boot into the vamp’s skull with an impressive kick. Then she backed away and flattened herself against the wall again, shaking her head and looking like she was about to lose it.
And they were losing.
The Unmarked were slowing down, their movements sloppy and unfocused as they fought back, their strikes going wide and missing. They were wearing down. The Unmarked were outmatched. If they stayed, they would become a vampire feast. Good.
My attention flicked across the hallway. I saw a retreating shadow at the far end—Ethan. The bastard was trying to make his escape. Baldy, Hannah and what’s-his-name followed suit, retreating towards the back. Cowards.
A blur of motion, and I turned to see the rest of the vampires setting out in pursuit.
“Let them go,” ordered Danto as he came to stand next to me, panting with a wild look in his eyes. The vampires halted. Their hisses and growls were loud over the beating of my heart. And then the vampires let out a rasping, snarling cheer that made my skin prickle.
But Layla hadn’t moved.
My legs moved towards her before I even knew what I was doing. “Layla,” I called until I got her attention. I took a steadying breath and said, “Come with us.”
Her gaze moved to me. The fear was heavy in her eyes, like she’d almost lost herself, and it touched me deeply.
“Come with us, Layla,” I said again, and her jaw unclenched.
Layla looked at me, her eyes wide in confusion and fear. And then something extraordinary happened.
She lowered her weapon and walked towards me.
Layla never looked back at Ethan or the others as she sauntered towards us, relief in her big brown eyes. My breath slipped from me in a shock.
“Bitch!” howled Ethan, as he came running back, the other Unmarked stopping at the end of the hall. “You traitorous bitch! You’ll pay for this!” he screamed with a deep hatred in his eyes. His lips moved rapidly in a curse meant for Layla. A shiver lifted through me at that too-familiar blackness growing around him. Bastard. He was going to kill his own sister. Oh, no you don’t.
And then something in me snapped.
I went deep inside myself, searching for that darkness, willing it to come.
And it answered.
Darkness embraced me, and I staggered. Too soon. Too much power too soon. I hadn’t had time to draw it up safely, if there was such a way. Hell, I had no idea how to control it. I should have asked Lucian.
My body quavered as a giant slip of dark energy flowed through me in a blaze of steaming energy, exploding into existence, filling my body and my soul with its seductive power. I felt alive, really alive for the first time in my life. My exuberant cry rose. It was exhilarating. I laughed, letting it spill from me. It was awesome.
Damn, I even looked behind me to see if I had sprouted wings—nope. Too bad, Tyrius would have loved that.
A smile tugged at my lips. I felt unstoppable. I felt powerful. I felt like a badass.
But the real kicker was the energy radiating from my skin in black and golden threads, slowly coming together to make a ball of energy in my palms.
I didn’t know whether this gift was good or bad, made from light or shadow, but I liked it.
This power, this essence that burned in me, I knew it wasn’t all of it. This was just a thin layer over the surface, just a taste of what I had inside me.
I stood with my arms splayed like I’d seen dark wizards do in the movies, slightly overdone, but I didn’t care. I was going to fry his ass.
“Layla! Down!” I cried, and the woman threw herself flat on the ground. I moved on instinct, and flung out a hand at Ethan, just as he threw a ball of his dark magic at Layla.
Black and gold energy streaked from the tips of my fingers, illuminating the hallway like a flash of lightning. And then it blasted out of my open palm. The brute force propelled me backwards and I landed hard on the floor.
A tendril of black and gold slammed into the dark magic sphere. There was a deafening crash like thunder followed by an explosion of light. My ears popped and a tremble vibrated under me. There was the shattering of something like glass followed by the tinkling of shards. A golden haze lit the hallway for a moment and then went out like a mist in the morning sun.
“Holy crap!” shouted Tyrius, bounding around me like a cat high on catnip. “Did you freaking see that? Did ya? You fried his dark magic! Fried it!”
I nodded, still in shock at what I’d been able to do. I killed his dark magic ball. Damn. Thanks, Dad.
My gaze went back to Ethan. He was staring at me in disbelief. That made two of us.
But then I felt a pull on my chi. The tingles quit with a surprising suddenness, and when I looked down I saw the energy in my palms waver—and go out. It was gone. All of it. I was a burnt-out shell. Even if I tried to tap into my will to draw that power again, I didn’t know how to master it yet and I feared it might even kill me.
“This isn’t over,” cried Ethan, and I lifted my attention back to him. He held a door open with a red EXIT sign above it, his body half in and half out. I caught a glimpse of the back of Hannah’s head as she disappeared behind the door into the darkness beyond. “This means nothing!” he shouted.
“Keep telling yourself that,” I said, feeling the blood drip from my arm where what’s-his-name had cut me and knowing I’d need stitches.
Danto rushed over and pulled me to my feet. “Did you forget to tell me something?” he asked, a quizzical expression on his brow. His gaze was worried under his thick lashes.
I smiled, feeling a little dizzy and drained from the surge of power, but handling it. “Tell you later.”
“Rowyn!” I heard Ethan shout. I turned, my eyes finding the manic Unmarked. “I’m coming for you.” And with that, he vanished through the door.
“And I’ll be waiting, little brother,” I whispered.
30
“Ow,” I said, as Gareth pulled the thread tightly through my skin.
He raised his brow, a smile quirked on his full lips. “That didn’t hurt, you liar.”
I raised my shoulders trying not to move my arm, which rested on the dining room table. “Maybe just a little,” I teased, marveling at his skill. “For having such big man hands, you sure are delicate with the stitches, Mr. Elf. Anything you care to share?”
“If you don’t stop moving I’m going to mess up the stitches. It won’t scar properly.”
I made a face. “It’s not like I don’t have my share of scars. I kinda like my scars. They each tell a story. Whose ass I kicked... whose ass I killed. And where would we be without our stories?”
Gareth made a sound of disapproval in his throat and went back to yanking the thread in my arm. He sat in a chair facing me, our knees touching, and I was surprised he didn’t move away.
My eyes darted around Gareth’s place. “Feels so quiet without the cats.” Cats, I repeated, feeling blessed to have them both as my friends. I missed them, I thought, my stomach tight.
“Mmm-hmm.” Gareth yanked on the thread again and made a meticulous knot. “It’s good that they’re surveying your grandmother’s place. If Lisbeth’s cronies show up, they’ll have a
nice baal surprise waiting for them.”
“A baal surprise,” I repeated. I smiled at the mental picture, but also at the thought that my gran was still enjoying her spa retreat. When I called her early this evening, she told me she wanted to stay for another few weeks. The wine must be really good.
My face fell back on the elf. Strange how I could have gone straight to Pam’s seeing as she was only a fifteen-minute drive from my grandmother’s. Instead I found myself diving south, for an extra hour, bleeding all over myself and my car. And for what?
Gareth felt my gaze and looked at me quizzically. “What?”
“I was disappointed not to see the Gray Council for myself,” I said, which was partly true.
“They would have left through their secret back doors at the first sign of trouble,” said the elf, his voice soft. “Trust me. You didn’t miss anything,” said the elf as he shifted and went back to his work. Then he pulled a stitch a little too harshly.
“Ow,” I winced, and Gareth’s eyes flicked to my face. “A little easy there, Dr. Elf. I’m still a mortal. I feel pain.”
Gareth grunted. “Can you stop talking for a whole two minutes? It’s distracting.”
I rolled my eyes, pressed my lips together firmly, and then, “Nope. I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t just sit here and do nothing and say nothing while you’re poking and prodding around my flesh.”
“I’m not poking or prodding. I’m stitching you up.”
“Same difference.”
The elf watched me for a moment. “Have some more wine then,” he obliged as he reached over and poured me another healthy glass of red wine. “Drink. And stop talking, will you.” He shifted his weight, leaned forward and went back to his stitches.
I gave a small laugh. “Are you trying to get me drunk to get me into bed with you?”
Gareth’s head snapped up, his brown eyes widening in alarm in the dining room light. “God no. Is that what you think?”
I cemented my lips firmly together, trying not to laugh at the panic in his eyes. “It was a joke.” Tyrius would have laughed. I stared at that rugged face, the dark eyes with uncertainty still simmering in them.
Something in me stirred and I looked away. I didn’t want it to be a joke, not really.
The elf released a breath. He reached over and grabbed a pair of tiny scissors. “There,” he said, as he cut the last stitch. “You’re done. As good as new.”
“Thanks,” I said, bringing up my arm and looking over the neat, tiny stitches that would barely leave a scar. “Looks great. Tight. Good work.” Good work? What am I? Twelve?
We sat in an awkward silence, me not knowing what I was doing here and him watching me a little too intensely.
“I’m not going dark, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I said, shifting back in my seat, my heart thumping way too loudly and way too fast. I’d told Gareth everything that happened tonight, including the gift from the archdemon Lucian. Maybe I’d told him too much.
Gareth leaned back, and a look of surprise flashed across his face. “I never said you were.” He raked his fingers through his thick hair, and I could see the pointed tips of his ears. It was very sexy.
“If I start feeling... different,” I said quickly. “I’ll fight it. I won’t let the darkness take me.” I wasn’t sure where this emotion was coming from. Damn that wine. It was making me into a blabbering mess.
Gareth grabbed both my hands and pulled me to face him, making my pulse throb. “If you can call up some celestial power that no other mortal can do, you should become skilled in it so you can succeed where others have failed.” His expression turned thoughtful. “Great power doesn’t corrupt a person or make them bad. It only brings their true self into the light. And you, Rowyn, are a good person. Don’t ever think otherwise.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, the wine making me a little lightheaded. Damn that elf. Why did he have to be so nice? He’d promised to help me before with this new gift. And I knew if I asked now, he’d say yes. The same way I knew he’d be there for me, always.
“If you don’t kiss me right now,” I demanded, feeling bold. “I’m going to clobber you.” The words were out of my mouth before I even knew I was going to say them. Heat rushed to my face. Ah, hell. I can’t believe I just said that.
Gareth’s expression went slack in surprise and I felt his hands flinch. I’d gone too far. That’s what happened when you’d been single for so long and had the equivalent in wine in a very short amount of time.
I let go of the elf’s hands and stood up, pushing my chair back. This was when I was supposed to tell him it was a joke and then excuse myself with my pride wounded and my dignity barely intact. Nice going, Rowyn.
Feeling like an idiot, I opened my mouth but closed it at the intensity I saw in his eyes. Gareth stood and then clasped my face with his hands, setting my skin on fire.
My heart thumped in my chest as his face neared mine, his eyes resting on my lips. And then, very gently, he moved closer and pressed his lips on my left cheek, and then on my right cheek, and then he sent little kisses on the edges of my mouth.
My skin prickled at his touch, at his lips. I stood there, frozen, barely breathing, feeling him, his scent all over me as his kisses sent a sudden jolt of yearning through me.
Gareth pulled back suddenly and I met his stare. The desire I saw in his dark eyes mirrored my own.
I pushed him back playfully. “You are trying to get me in bed,” I teased.
The elf smiled devilishly. “Is it working?”
“It is.”
He was still staring at me when I captured his mouth with my own, biting on his lower lip.
His eyes, dark with hunger, and his hands, rough with greed, raced over me. It had been so long, I’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to be touched and kissed by a man who obviously wanted me so completely, so urgently.
My mouth on his, my lips parted and his tongue swept in. His tongue flicked the roof of my mouth while I shuddered around him, clenching tightly. He moved forward and I bumped my ass against the edge of the table.
Gareth grabbed fistfuls of my camisole and pulled. I heard a tear and gasped as I looked down at my exposed bra and chest.
“Sorry,” said Gareth, letting go of the ruined camisole with an impish smile. “Didn’t mean to do that.”
I cocked an eyebrow and bit my lower lip suggestively. “You naughty elf,” I said and then crushed my mouth on his.
I pulled away laughing as we both wrestled out of our clothes in a tangle of kisses, rushing excitement and limbs. We tried to make it to the bedroom without falling on our faces.
My need for him flooded through me. I pulled off my bra and panties and threw them across the room—because I felt like it. Gareth, now in his beautiful naked-self lifted me off my feet, carried me into his bedroom and lowered me onto his bed.
I reached out and wrapped my legs around his waist because, let’s face it, I was never letting him go, and pulled him on top of me.
31
“Get that smirk off your face. It’s annoying,” whined Tyrius as he padded towards Father Thomas’s front porch.
I shut my car door with my hip. “What smirk?” I said, yanking my shoulder bag higher. “I’m not smirking.”
“The one that smells like sex.”
“Tyrius!” I exclaimed. Face flaming, I looked to see if there were any windows opened at the priest’s house. Not that I thought he would care, but my private life was private. And I wanted to keep it that way.
My eyes flicked back to the Siamese cat. How the hell could he know? Damn that baal demon. I had a feeling he could read minds sometimes. Or did I truly smell like sex? No, no way. I’d taken a shower at Gareth’s place this morning.
“You don’t have to tell the whole world you finally got some,” sneered the cat. “I get it had been a while... a very long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...”
“If you don’t shut up,” I hissed, though it was damn hard not
to smile. “I’m going to give you a bubble bath—vanilla scented.”
The cat stopped dead in his tracks. “You wouldn’t. Not vanilla. I hate vanilla,” he added, his eyes wide and pleading.
I smiled. “Try me, furball. I dare you.”
Tyrius rolled his eyes. “O-o-o-kay,” he drawled. He looked at me for half a second and then padded forward towards the porch.
I caught up with him, fumbling with my keys.
The cat looked up at me, a smug smile on his face. “So, how was he? A stallion in the sack? Or was he the Energizer bunny that kept going and going and going—”
“Tyrius, I swear!”
The baal demon laughed, long and whole heartedly. “Okay, okay. Don’t kick the cat. I was just kidding. Jeez, why are you so sensitive all of a sudden?”
“I’m not,” I said, jamming my key and turning the lock.
“You like him.”
I shut the door behind me. “More than I like you at the moment.” I climbed the stairs, pressing my lips tightly to stop the smile from spreading to the rest of my face.
“And that’s his shirt. Isn’t it?” inquired the cat, taking the steps one at a time.
“It is.” I wasn’t about to tell Tyrius why I was wearing one of Gareth’s t-shirts.
We got to the top landing. As I unlocked the door, I felt a pull on my senses, but it was already too late. I pushed open the door and walked in—
A man stood in my apartment, next to my couch where he’d been sitting, waiting.
His red hair stood out against his pale skin. He wore black clothes of some stretchy material. If it weren’t for his glowing skin and the soul blade in his hand, he could have passed for a thief.
“I thought I smelled a cosmic fart,” expressed the cat.
“God, not another angel,” I exclaimed, and the angel looked over his shoulder behind him.
“Not the sharpest tool in the celestial shed. Is he?” mumbled Tyrius.
Frowning, the angel looked back at me. “Rowyn Sinclair?”
Dark Gift Page 23
