by Jane Cousins
Darcy allowed Declan to bustle her back into the house and out through the front door and down the driveway. Only protesting when he grabbed her car keys and headed for the driver’s seat.
“Hey!”
“I’ve only had one beer tonight. Get in the car, Darcy.”
Damn, he was right. This was twice in a matter of days that she’d let him drive her car. Would wonders never cease. Doing up her seatbelt she glanced back at the house. “I don’t get Boyd’s problem, do you?”
Declan started the engine. “Some people just don’t cope with surprises well.”
“Yeah, I should have remembered that. He was pretty jumpy as a kid. Always flinching at the least little thing. I blame our mother.”
Declan smiled as the car leapt forward smoothly, headed back towards town. “I like your mother.”
“And have I told you lately how bizarre you are?”
“Oh, come on. Sarah’s fine. She just worries about her children, you especially.”
“Me? I have a job that I love. A great house. What’s to worry about?”
“Nell has Drum. Simon is part of the team at SRG. And Boyd has Alpha squad to watch his back. Sarah…”
“Spit it out, Declan. What did my mother say to you?”
“Just that she’s afraid that you’ll end up alone.”
“Alone. In the Sanctuary? Where I’m surrounded by friends and family to an almost suffocating degree?”
“It’s not the same, and you know it. You work alone. You live alone.”
“And my mother said that?”
“Not in so many words, but I could read between the lines.” Declan steered the car down Beach Road, all but empty of traffic as they passed the closed shops and the dimly lit bars and restaurants.
“The Special Liaison works alone. Has always worked alone.”
“And what about the living alone part of the equation… could you… see yourself ever living with someone?”
Darcy chuffed a laugh. “Have someone underfoot constantly? Dream on.” Besides, the bloody magical mark had all but condemned her to a single life. The only guys she attracted were already in love with their career, their dream or themselves. There never seemed to be any room in their lives for Darcy in their brief relationship.
And the thought of meeting the one, her mate, her meld. It was too fantastical. The idea of being stuck with just one person for well over a hundred years. Being together. Trusting them with all her secrets. Trusting that they wouldn’t get tired of her. Or upset every time she did or said something that mainstream society judged as wrong. No… she all but shuddered, never.
They drove past the Marina and the retirement village, the car climbing the wide sweeping steep road up the bluff. Past the road that would lead to her Cousin Quinn’s place and higher still, until Declan turned into the quiet cul-de-sac at the very peak. There were only three houses built up here, Darcy’s place was at the very end of the street.
It was easy for the two Pagan Priestesses trailing them to figure out their destination, and pull their motorbikes to a halt at the mouth of the cul-de-sac. Darcy didn’t like the fact that Declan had been placed under constant surveillance but she’d deal with it later, not tonight, it was getting late.
Declan parked the car in her driveway, turned off the engine and got out.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Darcy climbed out, fast. Glaring at him across the roof of her car.
“So gracious. No wonder I’ve never been here before. I was going to use your TransPortal to get home, since I was kind enough to drive your car here. But now, I’m going to demand coffee and small talk. It’s the least you can do to thank me.”
“I don’t do small talk. Nor do I have any coffee in the house.” Her and caffeine, so not a good mix.
“Did I say coffee? I meant herbal tea. And don’t say you don’t have any. Your sister never drinks anything else.”
“No.” Darcy crossed her arms defiantly, stretching the tiny short-sleeve black sweater she was wearing.
Declan just smiled, dimples popping. “No?”
“You heard me.” Darcy’s right foot began to tap. Her thigh-high black vinyl boots reflecting the moonlight.
“Only one little problem.” Declan held up his hand. “I have the house keys.” And he took off towards the front door at a run.
“Hah.” Darcy laughed softly, following, but not hurrying. “You’ll never get past my security system.”
“Oh, no?” Declan was laughing. “I just may have picked up a tip or two breaking and entering with you last night.”
Darcy’s pace quickened as she watched Declan breach her front door and slip inside. Damn. Now she started running.
Chapter Twelve
Declan was trying hard not to overthink this. He was deep in Darcy’s territory, farther than he’d ever gotten before. Nerves, desire and excitement roiled in his gut. Dark walnut hardwood floors gleamed underfoot as he eagerly stalked down the wide entrance hallway. Off to his left was a set of antique barn doors, through the gap he caught a glimpse of a home office, nice.
Next he noticed the black and white photographs lining the walls. All depicting shots of long abandoned to rust bridges. There was an archway at the end of the hallway and he stepped out into a breathtaking open planned living room. Vaulted ceilings, broken up by another arch, this one more artwork than functional as iron cream-coloured columns soared upwards, supporting what looked like a climbing rose that arched over the centre of the room, entwined around a solid wood beam. The branches weighed down by an explosion of leaves and hefty blooms, except everything was made of iron and painted a soft cream. It was so detailed and intricate that Declan was surprised not to see petals drifting to the ground.
Damn, he knew it wouldn’t be stark or overly practical. Darcy liked her creature comforts, but this… this was cosy with a surprising dash of elegance, he liked it. The walnut floors continued on in here, the walls and ceiling painted a rich cream that matched the wide comfy looking sofas decorated with large raspberry coloured cushions.
A cream brick fireplace was off to one side, blazing with a dozen pillar candles that he was guessing were battery operated and on a timer. It gave him hope, that burst of romance. More so, the large picture hanging above the mantle. It depicted a blurry figure, a woman, dressed in an elaborate raspberry coloured dress. Her skirts flaring outwards as her shadowy partner twirled her about.
Wow. Cosy, warm and feminine. He’d pictured her house in his head a hundred times, but he’d never come close to the reality.
“What are you smiling about?”
Declan turned to find Darcy standing in the kitchen area, the bench tops a gleaming dark wood that matched the floors and all the cabinets. The tiled cream coloured backsplash a nice contrast. He strode towards the island separating them. “I really like your house. It suits you.”
Darcy blinked. “Most people are surprised. I think they’re expecting all black, metal and leather.”
“No.” Declan shook his head. “This is you.” He turned around, noting the rear wall of the room was made up of interconnecting doors that could all be pushed back. Intrigued, he made his way over to the glass. Outside was a large wide deck, comfy furniture, a barbeque, and an outdoor umbrella. Nice place to entertain and the view across Haven Bay and Hidden Cove had to be amazing. There was no garden. Past the deck was nothing but a sheer drop. Only a railing and a madly blooming cream bougainvillea providing any barrier.
“How’s that tea coming?”
“It’s ready. Here.”
Back at the bench that separated the kitchen from the living area Declan was amused to watch Darcy slam down a glass and fill it with white wine.
“That doesn’t look like herbal tea.”
“Tea takes too long to heat up, here’s your drink, skol that down and you can hit the bricks.”
“So gracious.” Declan took a small sip. “Nice, thanks. You should pour yourself one too.”
Darcy sighed. Grabbed another glass and filled it. This would make it her third…. maybe her fourth for the evening. But she was home, not driving, and she might as well keep Declan company until she could manoeuvre him close enough to the Transportal located in her pantry to push him in and get rid of him.
“What’s through there?” Declan pointed at a closed oak barn door off to the right.”
“Master bedroom.” Darcy walked into the living room area.
“Of course, so you can take advantage of the view, smart.”
It was weird, having Declan cheerfully bounce around her personal space. When she’d had men here in the past they tended to frown and say stupid judgemental things like how the decor didn’t suit her. Everything was too soft. Too comfortable looking. As if they expected to find a room filled to the brim with nothing but cacti plants. Or walls and walls of whips. But all she saw in Declan’s violet eyes was enthusiasm and admiration.
Hold on, since when had Declan become a man? Okay, he’d always been a man, but when had she begun thinking of him as one?
“And back there?” Declan pointed towards the front of the house.
“Home office, two more bedrooms, second bathroom.”
“And what’s behind that door?” He pointed to a door off to the left. “Torture chamber?”
“Don’t be silly, I do all my torturing in the sub-basement beneath my office. That’s the gift wrapping room.”
“Seriously?” Declan’s mouth dropped open. “Can I look?”
He was fascinated by the idea. Darcy had a room entirely devoted to wrapping gifts? Flinging open the door he switched on the light and drank it all in. It was a scarily efficient room.
One wall was devoted to nothing but rolls upon rolls of brightly coloured wrapping paper. A floor to ceiling bookcase held at least a thousand skeins of ribbons in every colour and pattern under the sun. There was a glitter station. A corkboard above it on the wall that had twenty different kinds of scissors hanging from hooks. And another bookcase piled high with colourful collapsed cardboard boxes; arranged in order of size from ring box all the way up to jumbo.
Declan switched off the light and stepped back into the living room. Hoping like hell that Darcy wouldn’t notice that he was so turned on he was almost in physical pain. Damn, he had plans for that gift wrapping room. Big plans. Most of them involving Darcy splayed out on the glitter station, her wrists encircled by gaily coloured ribbons tying her down whilst he explored, tasted and teased her until she begged for mercy.
Bloody Hell. Declan pretended to be admiring the painting above the fireplace as he sidled past her and collapsed onto the nearest comfy sofa.
Darcy blinked, they were sitting now? Add one Love God to her life and suddenly it was out of control. She had a choice, wrestle him to the Transportal or join him like a civilised person. Damn, he trained with weapons daily, and she did owe him for tonight. Keeping her mother at bay. And half a slice of birthday cake was better than none.
Sinking onto the sofa across from him, Darcy bit back a sigh of annoyance. Hell, the man was gorgeous, and for some reason it was like he was the missing piece in this room. Lounging there on her sofa… looking like he belonged. As if the room had been designed with him in mind. Which was a ridiculous idea.
“Why a whole room devoted to gift wrapping?” Declan had taken four deep breaths and through sheer strength of will convinced his cock to stand at ease.
“When I initially became Special Liaison, gift wrapping was one of the first classes the High Council insisted I take.” Darcy sipped her wine, smiling in memory. “I thought they were all bonkers… at first. But then I got it. Nothing drives home a win more absolutely for the Sanctuary than a severed head delivered in a Hello Kitty box, topped with a big gingham bow.”
Declan choked on his wine. “That’s diabolical… and beyond brilliant.”
Darcy grinned. She did like that about Declan, he never judged and he was always enthusiastic… unlike so many others she could name and shame.
She was the Special Liaison, it wasn’t a role that allowed her to be anything but direct, merciless and cold blooded. The lives of everyone who inhabited the Southern Sanctuary were dependent on her being willing to go above and beyond to protect them. To Darcy’s mind the family Enforcers were the nails, she was the hammer.
Her reputation alone went a long way to keeping trouble to a minimum and their enemies thinking twice before they made any move on the Sanctuary or its inhabitants.
“Did you always want to be the Special Liaison, growing up?” Declan eased back against the cushions, soaking up being in Darcy’s company. Her presence soothed his soul, which helped in some small way to negate the constant ache she caused in his groin region.
“Goddess, no. When I left school I kind of floated around for a while. But nothing fit. Or I didn’t seem to fit. I went to University for a few months, but the curriculum was too rigid, and the people so earnest. Ugh. Then I tried working in an office, but there are so many rules and everyone kept harping on and on about how I needed to display more tact. Please, if they knew what I’d held back, they’d have cringed and curled up in the foetal position.”
Declan chuffed a deep laugh. Grinning broadly.
“So then I kind of drifted from job to job. But nothing resonated. There were always these nonsensical rules to follow. And mind numbing routines. I kept trying to shake things up. And got into more and more trouble. Then one day, after the third… no, fourth incident but second fire, Great-Aunt Alyssa turned up on my doorstep and asked me to spend the day with her.”
Declan’s eyes were bright with interest. “What happened?”
“We had the best day ever. Cracked some skulls of some visiting rock fiends who were causing trouble along the cliffs, eating all the calcium deposits. Intimidated a wannabe cult leader slash performance artist who’d set up shop in Reverie Valley and was trying to seduce several art students into becoming his concubines. Hell, did he leave town in a hurry.” Darcy smiled in memory.
“And then what happened?”
“The next day I turned up at Alyssa’s office and there was a note on the door. It said – Trial period is over. Congratulations. And that was it.”
“Great-Aunt Alyssa? I’ve met her, right?”
“She and her husband, Taavi, moved to Finland, where he’s from, but she’s always popping back to visit their kids and grandkids.”
“So, it’s not a hard and fast rule that the Special Liaison has to be a lone wolf?”
“No rule. Just easier that way.”
“Is there a Special Liaison handbook?”
“Sort of. It’s really more of a list of responsibilities and a general job description. The most important part is upholding the vow to protect and defend. The High Council are very strict about my adhering to it. But how I go about it, they tend not to want to know the details, just happy I get results. Better for everyone that way, less chance of anyone being called to testify. Not that anyone has ever found enough evidence to bring charges against me.” Darcy took a sip of wine. “How about you? Why did you decide to become an Enforcer?”
Declan drummed his fingers on his jean clad thigh. “This stays just between you and me?”
Oh, Darcy loved nothing more than secrets. “Sure.”
“I noticed growing up, that the more social connections I made, the more annoyed Aengus became.”
Darcy nodded. “That makes sense, keeping you isolated meant he could work on you with out any distractions. So that’s why you joined all those teams and clubs at school?”
“That and I enjoyed all those activities. But the team camaraderie, the focus, having a united goal, it kept me grounded. And it also allowed me to form connections with a wide array of our family that couldn’t be misconstrued.”
“Misconstrued?” Darcy was intrigued, especially since a warm, flattering, flush of colour had entered Declan’s cheeks.
“People get attached to me. I don’t know what it is. Phero
mones. Some kind of radar signal Aengus broadcasts. But when you are part of a team, focused, people don’t tend to get side-tracked by me.”
“That’s why you stayed away from everyone when we were kids, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It took me a while to work out how to stop people from becoming fixated… obsessed with me. It’s part of the reason I joined the Enforcement Team, and it’s also the reason I made it a hard rule to avoid any of the non-meld females of the Family. Those conversation can get really… awkward.” Declan flinched as if in memory.
Darcy snapped her fingers. “That’s why you never really hung out with Nell or Charisse until they hooked up with Drum and Nate. But being you, it still causes problems, doesn’t it? That’s why it took you ages to find an Enforcer Mentor. Your magic mojo makes people want to protect you the more time they spend with you. But how come Hadleigh being your Mentor wasn’t a problem? She was single when you began working with her.”
Declan laughed. “I love Hadleigh.”
Darcy tamped down on the icicle thrust of pain that speared her gut at Declan’s announcement. Hmm, it had to be the chocolate cake, she was unused to all that rich sugary goodness.
“When I first went to her place for the interview I thought I knew exactly how it was going to go. She would take one look at me and start bowing and scraping. Instead, she looked exceptionally uncomfortable and like she was seconds away from hauling off and hitting me. So as a test, that’s what I asked her to do, hit me.” Declan rubbed his jaw in memory. “I think I was out for fifteen minutes, when I woke up I knew I had found the perfect Mentor.”
“But what makes me and Hadleigh so unique that we are immune to you?”
Declan’s dimples deepened. “For Hadleigh, it was a combination of factors I think. Her inability to see how beautiful and desirable she is.” Darcy shifted slightly as the icicle in her gut thrust a little deeper. “That and her dedication and single-minded focus, wanting to be the ultimate Warrior. And the fact that I believe Fate had already marked her Destiny. And it was not intertwined with mine, not sexually anyway. And as for you?” Violet eyes sparkled with amusement and a flicker of heat. “Are you really claiming that you are immune to me?”
