Emma opened her eyes and scanned the almost empty bank lobby through the glass office walls. The wet weather kept most customers home this day.
It was her last day at the bank. She’d requested an extended leave of absence. With no appointments scheduled, the rest of the afternoon loomed ahead.
Since Briana’s kidnapping, the days had been unbearable for her. It was hard to concentrate at work while the demons held Briana. She didn’t want to imagine what her sister was going through at the hands of the evil beings.
Hostage, until she brought the ransom.
Now, after she’d failed to convince Cynden Fraser to help her, a heavy sense of hopelessness engulfed her.
“What happened?” Wendy, her friend and coworker asked from the doorway. She didn’t wait for an answer and walked in closing the door behind her. Wendy plopped down on a chair with a hopeful expression on her face. Wendy leaned forward, her vivid green eyes searching Emma’s face, as she waited for her answer. Emma’s mood lightened.
Wendy was one of a handful of humans Emma had ever met who knew about demons and Protectors. Wendy was attacked by a demon one night and a Protector rescued her. Although she’d never seen the Protector again, Wendy could describe him in great detail, which she did every chance she got. By Wendy’s description, the Protector who rescued her had an uncanny resemblance to Cynden, except for the eye color. She swore her rescuer had clear green eyes. Cynden’s eyes were a very definite shade of blue.
It was very strange that Wendy could remember in great detail what happened to her almost two years earlier. As a rule, Protectors were careful after a rescue to erase the human’s memories of a demon attack. Although Emma didn’t understand why Wendy’s memory remained intact, she was grateful to have a friend to confide in.
As their friendship grew, Emma shared more and more about the Protectors. When she confessed her own dark Fae bloodline, Wendy accepted her disclosure without judgment and their friendship became stronger.
Head still resting in her hands, Emma answered Wendy’s question. “I found Cynden, the Protector. But he refused to help me.”
“Really? You gotta be kidding me. I thought they’re supposed to rescue humans, or… innocent beings, from demons.” Wendy frowned and bit her bottom lip in thought before she continued. “What did you say? What did he say?”
“I told him that my sister is being held hostage by demons and that I needed his help. He said,” she deepened her voice, “‘I don’t do rescues,’ and left before I could say anymore. Now I have to find him all over again.”
Eyes stinging with tears, Emma threw her hands up in exasperation. “Every day that passes can only be more torturous for poor Briana.”
“You’ll find him again Emma. I’ll help you,” Wendy said. Then she stilled and studied Emma, her brow crinkled. “Good thing you don’t have any customers, you’re a mess.”
Emma’s hands flew to her hair, she hadn’t even thought about straightening herself up after the encounter with the Protector. “It’s windy and drizzling out there,” she replied, hoping her discomfort wasn’t obvious.
She could feel her friend’s stare as she took out a compact mirror to check her hair and make-up. Her lipstick smudged from one side of her mouth to her cheek and her hair was disheveled.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure your makeup is the last thing on your mind right now,” Wendy said.
Emma’s cheeks warmed as she thought about Cynden’s kiss. She grabbed for a tissue and wiped at her stained mouth harder than necessary. Wendy didn’t seem to notice her discomfort and continued to talk, “Don’t worry, we’ll find him again and explain everything. Then I’m sure he’ll agree to help to you. I’ll even help you search for him. Remind him that he is supposed to help. He took an oath.”
Emma couldn’t help but smile at Wendy’s stern expression. “I’ll do that.”
Wendy’s face softened as she gave Emma a reassuring smile. “Briana is in all probability doing okay. You told me yourself, she’d been hanging out with demons lately. She might even know some of the demons that took her.”
“These demons are not the BFF type, and it’s Gerard, a Master demon that has Briana,” Emma replied, but she hoped more than anything Wendy was right.
The lobby doors opened and a pair of customers shuffled in and shook the rain off their coats and umbrellas. Both headed to the tellers.
Although she and Briana were like night and day, Emma adored her sister.
Just months earlier, Emma suspected that Briana was going to Inferno, a local nightclub, and known dark Fae hangout. She’d tried on several occasions to talk to her sister about the danger of being around too many demons, but Briana laughed off her concerns and called her a bore.
The fact that being in the company of full-blooded dark Fae presented the possibility of her dark side taking over was a thrill Briana couldn’t resist.
Now Briana was in trouble. Big trouble.
Hostage, until Emma lured Cyn to the demons. He was the price she was to pay.
The ransom.
Chapter Two
IN A CLEARING behind Cyn’s house, two teenage boys went through their sword practice routines. The teens stood side-by-side and swung swords up, down, and across. They grunted dramatically as they completed the exercises. Amused at their antics, Cyn struggled to keep a stern expression and watched them with his arms crossed over his chest.
It still amazed him how much his life had changed since he’d moved to Atlanta twenty years earlier. He’d gone from being a single man, to a single father, and an uncle of sorts.
Cyn, one of four Protectors assigned to Atlanta, felt settled. His life was pretty much complete. Well, as complete as possible for him.
He concentrated on the boys’ efforts and then stepped closer to push one of their elbows up. He waited as the boy adjusted his stance.
“Ten more.”
Once they completed the ten repetitions, he took his sword out of the scabbard and demonstrated another move. “Put your left foot in front, swing across, draw back and thrust forward. It’s best to practice beheading and piercing the heart at the same time—the two sure ways to kill a demon.”
“Don’t you think it’s kinda sick to be training your kid to kill Dad?” One of the teenagers, a young half-Fae, frowned at Cyn. “I mean that’s just strange at times.”
“Blue, you have to know how to defend yourself.” Cyn answered him. “Plus, you are half-Fae. Full-blood dark Fae are not your friends. Brock, hold your elbows up!” He corrected the other boy, fellow Protector Roderick’s son.
Cyn held his sword up. “Okay, watch me and let’s go through the moves again.”
The boys grumbled but were instantly quiet when Cyn’s sword made a swooshing sound as it flew past them with such swiftness that a soft breeze brushed their faces. They stared up at him awestruck.
“Do twenty repetitions, then come inside for dinner.”
As he walked toward his house, Cyn’s thoughts went back to the woman he’d kissed earlier that day. Her honey-brown eyes flashed in his mind. At over two hundred and forty years old, he’d been with many women. Memories of some lingered. For the most part however, his brief encounters were forgotten almost as soon as he left their bed.
It was rare that he sought out a woman more than a couple of times; for a Protector, it was best to keep relationships short and casual. He tried to remember the last time he’d had sex. Nothing memorable stood out, so he gave up.
The female back in the alley had been different. He’d felt a strong attraction toward her. The probable cause—the length of time he’d been without a woman. Good thing he didn’t know anything about her. She was already a distraction.
Besides his son, his focus in life was to uphold the oath he’d given upon becoming part of the Protector force.
He was sworn to protect and defend innocents from those out to hurt or kill them.
Once in the kitchen, he gathered everything the boys would need to fix sand
wiches and placed the items on the counter. He reached for a bag of potato chips. Before he could open it, the boys came in through the back door. He left them to fix their meals.
With a soft drink in hand, he headed back outside to sit on the deck. He glanced back to see the boys piling chips on their plates. Perhaps he should have provided a healthier meal for the boys. Things would be so different for Blue if he had a mother. But no, he accepted long ago that he would be single his entire existence.
Julian, their leader, would arrange a marriage if Cyn wished it. The idea of an arranged marriage wasn’t very appealing. So unless he met his life-mate on his own, which amounted to finding the proverbial needle in the haystack, the likelihood of a wife for him was pretty slim. No, he did all right on his own.
He felt better now that he’d sorted his thoughts. With his feet propped on the side railing he contemplated the fluffy clouds that drifted by on the bright blue canvas.
The sound of the boys’ laughter got his attention. They ate while sharing a private joke. Catching his attention, Blue gave him a thumbs-up.
Yes, all was well.
A FEW DAYS later at dusk, Cyn relaxed at his favorite deli in downtown Atlanta, eating a Rueben sandwich and drinking a glass of cold sweet tea. The familiar sounds of pots banging and conversation at Mae’s deli were as comfortable as his favorite pair of jeans. He didn’t usually see any demon activity this early, so he took the time to eat before a night of patrolling the streets and alleyways of Atlanta.
Two women, who sat in a nearby booth, glanced over at him and whispered to each other. The sideways glances and giggles made him clench his jaw in annoyance. He pretended not to notice their attempts to get his attention.
His line of vision shifted to the deli’s large window. He’d parked his motorcycle in front of the building where he could keep an eye on it. On its own, the huge black chrome-laden Harley cruiser intimidated well enough to keep most thieves away. However, when people spotted the hilt of his sword that stuck out from one of the saddlebags, they gave it a wide berth.
Cyn took a deep frustrated breath when he saw that one of the women had decided to approach him. A blonde, about thirty, wearing too much makeup, wove her way around the tables between them. Before she reached the table, her excessive flowery perfume burned his nostrils.
She stopped by his booth, and leaned over; a welcome mat wearing a smile. “I’m sorry to bother you hon.” Her southern accent strong. “But my friend Marlene and I swear we’ve seen you on television. Aren’t you that actor?”
“No ma’am,” Cyn replied glancing up at her, then away. “Just got out of prison, didn’t get to do much acting there.” He proceeded to take a healthy bite of the sandwich, before he lifted his eyes to meet hers.
The woman jerked upright and jumped back. Her hand flew to her chest as she attempted a weak smile while she stepped away from the table. All signs of flirting gone, she turned and scurried back to her companion. Several patrons glanced over at him with uncertainty.
The deli owner, Mae, shuffled over and refilled his sweet tea. “That line works every time,” she tsked and shook her head in disapproval. The older woman patted the net holding her gray hair in place and raised both eyebrows at him. It became obvious by her hesitation to return to the counter that Mae was about to lecture him. Her pretty brown face scrunched in a frown. “You need to be nicer to the ladies, Cyn. That boy of yours could use a momma,” she said with a hand on one of her ample hips. “I’m just saying.”
“I keep trying to get you to marry me, Mae and you won’t,” Cyn replied, as he studied a French fry before popping it in his mouth. Even though his expression remained serious, he winked at her. “I’m waiting for you to get tired of Harold.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you young men these days,” Mae went on. “It’s the men playing hard to get now. I’m glad I’m married. Harold chased me, not the other way around! I ain’t chasing after no man.” Mae shook her head at him and walked away mumbling under her breath, her sizeable hips swaying.
Cyn chuckled at their familiar banter.
A few minutes later, he left the diner and mounted his motorcycle. He stilled when a sharp tingle radiated up his neck.
A demon, a strong one, must be near.
He ripped open the saddlebag, yanked out his sword and scabbard and slung it across his back. The sounds and surroundings all became dull to him. He focused on the demon’s location as he crept around to the back of Mae’s deli.
A bulky demon, dressed entirely in black, held a woman up against the wall with its fangs burrowed deep into her neck while he fed. The demon’s long hair blocked Cyn’s view of the woman’s features. But he could see her feeble attempts to struggle against him. Her weakened fists hit the demon without effect.
The woman’s low moan coincided with the lolling of her head. As the streetlight washed over her face, Cyn noted the all too familiar unfocused eyes and blood starved skin.
By the deep tone of the demons’ skin, Cyn could tell he was a high-level, capable of draining the woman dry. He drew his sword and growled in an attempt to draw the demon away and save the woman’s life.
The demon withdrew from the woman’s throat, crimson rivulets ran down his chin as he turned and snarled in anger. Quick as lightning, the demon yanked out his sword and held it at the ready, prepared to exchange blows. With its canines fully extended, dripping blood and his red-rimmed eyes, the demon made for a nightmarish sight.
The woman slid to a limp pile on the ground and neither Protector nor demon paid any attention.
Adrenaline rushed through him, this was what he lived for—battle. Cyn’s own fangs snapped down in response as he lunged forward.
Swords clashed. The ring of metal against metal echoed off the walls of the buildings in the alleyway, as the two males faced off.
The alley disappeared to Cyn as he focused solely on the demon. All he could see, hear, and sense was his target. Each movement became clear and distinct for him. He grunted and bent backward to avoid the slash of the demon’s sword at his throat.
Cyn raised his sword and brought it down with dizzying speed. The demon blocked it effectively, but stumbled back. Snarling, it regained its stance and wielded the sword with both hands.
When his opponent’s sword descended, Cyn sprung back out of the blade’s reach.
The demon proved to be a worthy adversary, their skills almost evenly matched. Low-levels were aggressive, but sloppy. This demon’s style was methodical, a telltale sign of his age and elevated status. Cyn forced the demon to block several times, but he also had to defend from several too near assaults.
As they continued in battle, the demon’s sword arm began to tremble.
“Didn’t feed enough, blood-breath?” Cyn asked with a cocky smile.
The reply was a loud growl, and a two handed swing of the sword.
Cyn parried and faked to the left hoping the demon would advance.
It did.
Cyn shoved his sword through the demon’s heart. The demon’s shock widened eyes met his. With one last snarl, it fell to the ground and evaporated.
A woman’s gasp caught Cyn off guard. “Oh my God! Is she dead?”
Although her hair fell forward and blocked her face from him, his stomach flipped when the female knelt over the unconscious woman.
What the hell?
It was the same woman he’d kissed days earlier.
His gut tightened.
What was she doing here, and why did his body instantly react to her?
She felt the victim’s throat for a pulse while she fumbled in her purse.
“I have a cell phone. I’m calling 9-1-1.” She shouted back to him.
Cyn ran to her, grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. “Get the fuck out of here. I’ll take care of this. Leave now!” He gave her a shove toward the street. Not realizing his own strength, he pushed her too hard and she fell to the pavement on all fours.
She glared a
t him for a moment before she got up and scrambled back toward him.
Cyn considered apologizing, but instead crouched down by the unconscious woman and reached out to check her for a pulse. It surprised him to find she had a strong one and he breathed a sigh of relief. She would be all right.
He started to push on his earpiece to call in to the Protector’s network for an ambulance, when the infuriating woman tapped him on the shoulder.
“Is she alright?”
He took a deep breath, but it did little to calm him. He turned to her, his furious gaze meeting her anxious one. He’d forgotten how stunning her eyes were.
He calmed.
“Look, you have to leave. We’ve been here too long already. I’ll call for help, then I’ll stay a short distance away and ensure she’s all right. I won’t leave until after the medics pick her up, okay?”
Both jumped at a voice behind them. “Keep your hands where I can see them and step away from the victim.”
“This just keeps getting better and better.” Cyn grumbled under his breath as he held his hands up and glared at the intrusive woman. She pressed her lips together, obviously trying hard not to say something else.
“Turn toward me nice and slow.” When they did, the police officer motioned for Cyn to move away from the women.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the woman’s eyes shift from him to the officer. She wrinkled her brow in thought then spoke to the policeman. “Officer, it’s not what you think. You see we just walked up and found this poor woman lying here. We were checking to make sure she’s alright.” She gave Cyn a triumphant look, who in return returned a droll stare.
“Then why does he have a sword, and why is your leg bleeding ma’am?” Without waiting for her to answer the cop waved his gun at them. “Never mind, we’ll sort this out at the station.” The police officer clicked on his radio, it crackled but didn’t work. Cyn used his powers to block the device. The officer frowned at his radio, and then tried again as he walked toward them.
Immortal Highlander (Immortal Protectors Book 2) Page 2
