Guardian Unraveled: Fallen Guardians

by Hunter, Georgia Lyn

  Shield, Aethan’s voice drifted into his mind. At the familiar wave of white light flowing out from the middle of the chaos, demoniis scattered from Aethan like roaches. Dagan stood there. He couldn’t move, couldn’t dematerialize. His ability didn’t worked. He shut his eyes.

  “Dammit, Dag!” Tough arms snatched him away from certain death and dematerialized them to a rooftop. As they took corporeal form, Dagan slid to the cemented floor.

  His chest heaving, Týr faced him, his obsidian sword still in his hand, the moon highlighting the concern on his face. His nostrils flared, and then he lowered to his heels and pulled up Dagan’s t-shirt, exposing his abs and the wound Aza had inflicted. Before Dagan could stop him, Týr ripped off the dressing on his side. Horror darkened his face. “This demon-bolt wound is days old. You’re not healing?”

  Struggling to breathe through the excruciating pain, Dagan pulled his shirt down and closed his eyes. What could he say to the one person he didn’t want seeing him this way? He wasn’t healing because his abilities were now dead and he needed a true feed? Yeah, right.

  “Dammit, Dag,” Týr shook him. “Tell me what the hell to do.”

  He forced his eyelids open. “You can’t do anything. The blade was…it’s nothing. The Fallen bastard wants Shae back.” Then he finally said the words, “If anything happens to me, ask Nik to keep her safe.”

  Týr’s expression tightened at the shutdown of Dagan not asking him for help, but he’d trusted Týr once. The pain still lived in him.

  “Well…” Týr retorted, “I would, but seeing as it’s a soul-joining, maybe you’d want to give her a last message, too, before she joins you?”

  Fuck, he’d forgotten about that. He bit back a pained groan and pressed a hand to the new wound.

  “Here.” Týr held out a thick wrist, stunning all hell out of him. “You need blood, take mine.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “I know.” His mouth firming, Týr’s obsidian dagger appeared in his palm. He sliced his wrist, blood gushed, thick and rich, snagging Dagan attention like a lure. “After we became Guardians, I followed you once, to talk to you…I saw you feed from a mountain lion.”

  “You’re always where you shouldn’t fucking be,” Dagan muttered. “By the heavens, Týr, how could you let that happen? I thought you cared about her—”

  A thick wrist was slapped against his mouth. Hunger gnawing his gut, Dagan clamped his lips around Týr’s profusely bleeding wound and sucked. But at Týr’s fast healing abilities, the lesion closed. Too ravenous to care, Dagan’s fangs dropped. He licked the warrior’s skin and sank his incisors deep again.

  Týr inhaled sharply. A groan escaped him. “Fuck me! Is that what they all feel when you feed from them?”

  Like a blast of icy water, Týr’s words froze him. What the hell was he doing? He jerked away, shame rushing through him. Týr’s blood would stop his thirst for a while, but it wouldn’t give him what he truly needed.

  Týr cut a quick look at the puncture marks in his wrist as they closed, then checked Dagan’s wound again. His brow creased. Those pale brown eyes nailed him. “Why aren’t you healing?”

  He rubbed a weary hand over his face. “Because it’s female blood I need.”

  “Shae—”

  Dagan shook his head and lowered his hand. “I cannot. She’s human. I’ll kill her…that’s my fucking curse.”

  “Tartarus sure screwed us over,” Týr muttered. His eyes darkened, hollowed as if pulled back into the past. “What about the goddess I sensed you with over the centuries?”

  Call Kaerys again? His entire being revolted. “No.”

  “Then find another female to feed from. You need to heal.”

  “No.”

  “What the hell do you mean, no?”

  Dagan cast him a tired look. “Not at the price it comes with. My saliva being an aphrodisiac, they’ll want more than I’m prepared to give. I can’t—I won’t betray Shae. I’ll heal like humans do.”

  “Dag, we fight fucking evil and other shit every night. You cannot be at mortal strength.”

  “I’ve fought well enough in the past month.”

  “You haven’t fed for that long?” Týr growled, reminding Dagan so much of how they’d once been. An ache formed in his sternum.

  “I have, just not from a female of our genus. Animals sustain my hunger for a few hours.” He shifted against the pillar and winced as pain speared him. “Why do you care anyway?”

  “Because no matter what, you’re still my friend. I know I fucked up damn bad. I wish to the heavens I knew what happened that day. I spent millennia going through the events…” His fingers tunneled through his shaggy hair. “I was patrolling the temple area when one of the handmaidens said that Inara wanted to see me. I recall waiting for her in her chamber. She arrived, seemed happy I was there, and she wanted to go to the river. I refused. She wasn’t pleased but accepted it. After that, nothing…”

  When Dagan remained silent, Týr’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “I know no apology will ever be enough…” He rose to his feet. “Let me check what’s going on down below, I’ll be back to take you to the castle.”

  After Týr had left, with humiliation and guilt churning his gut, Dagan felt like shit. He wished he could let go of the past. But every time he thought about the brutal battle in the Sumerian temple, his mind turned hazy with agony and betrayal, and all he saw was Týr—the sole survivor in that blood-soaked room.

  Pain strummed through his belly as he moved again. He bit back a curse and pushed against the cemented pillar. Using the thing as a crutch, he shoved to his feet, breathing hard through his nose, and braced a hand on the wall.

  “Why do you do this to yourself?”

  At the soft voice, his gaze snapped to his left. A shadowy, feminine figure appeared at his side, her scent achingly familiar. His heart pounded against his sternum. He dropped to his ass, shock nailing him in place. “No. No, it cannot be…

  “Aye, it’s me.” A broken laugh echoed in the light breeze. Gentle hands touched his face. “I missed you, ahu.”

  Brother? He blinked his blurry gaze, so sure he was hallucinating from blood loss. “Inara? How—why?”

  The mirage merely shook her head. She appeared older. Thinner. No longer the teenage girl he’d once known. “You suffer greatly, when all you have to do is trust yourself.”

  “What are you talking about?” Her vision wavered. “No, don’t leave—please don’t—” He tried to grab her. Instead, his hand flayed through air. “Where are you?”

  “I am…where I choose to be.” Her ethereal image kneeled before him, and she stroked his hair. Then she fingered one of the ropey lengths and smiled. “Eons have passed, and you still wear your hair this way. She likes it, you know.”

  “What?” He shook his head again, trying to clear the dizziness. “Inara—”

  “Shh, brother. Go back to your mate and do what you must.”

  He heaved a sigh at her words. Damn, he pressed a hand to his new injury. Even breathing fucking hurt. “I can’t. She’ll die, and that I cannot bear.”

  “How quickly you forget. I am the Goddess of Life. Aye, I’ve accepted what I am.” A wry laugh. “Death is not in the cards today.” She laid a hand on his arm. The intense pain eased as his body shimmered and the decrepit rooftop vanished.

  Eyes clenched tight, Dagan staggered as he took form, not on the portico of the castle but on his own balcony.

  “Be at peace, ahu,” her fading apparition whispered. “You cannot blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

  “Inara, wait!”

  “Alas, I cannot linger...”

  At the sadness in her voice, Dagan’s chest hurt. “Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you—”

  “No, brother mine, this time, it’s my burden to endure. Penance for my mistake.” Her misty form enfolded him in a sweet hug he couldn’t feel. Her familiar scent of honey and
some musky flower surrounded him, filling his mind with images of a time of innocence and laughter. Then, he was alone.

  “Forgive your old friend.” Her last words penetrated the fog in his mind. “Things are not what they seem…the dark angel, Lucifer, was my mistake.”

  Chapter 22

  Dagan stood on the dimly lit balcony, the dissonance of night insects replacing the roar of traffic from the city. How many more hells would he have to endure before he found a modicum of peace?

  With Inara’s sudden appearance and her asking him to forgive Týr, but then refusing to say where she was and telling him that Lucifer was her mistake? What the hell did that even mean? And with the threats to his mate, who could be taken from him…his sanity hung by a thread.

  He had to go find Shae. Needed her. Only her presence calmed the madness taking over his mind. But if she saw him like this, punctured with holes and bleeding again, it wouldn’t go well. He pulled his blood-drenched shirt away from his wounds, teeth clenching at the spiking pain.

  As he opened the French door into his room, a shift in the air had him glancing back. Kaerys took form. He bit back a curse. “What do you want?”

  Her dark eyes glittered hungrily, sliding over him. “I, er, saw you get hurt.”

  Anger buzzed through his veins and roared in his head, he barely heard her. “You’re stalking me?”

  “I missed you, so yes, I followed you, hoping you’d get over your snit...” She glided across to him, a sultry smile on her lips. Flicking back her brown hair, she swiped a fingernail over her neck. A thin, red line appeared. Blood seeped. Rich and decadent, the scent drew him. His incisors throbbed.

  “Come, Dagan. Take. You need me, but you know what I want.”

  He was so sick of this shit. Her games. Keeping his breathing shallow, he pivoted for the door. “Leave.”

  “What?” Shock resonated in her voice. “It’s been several weeks, Dagan. Just how long can animal blood sustain you? You should be grateful I’m looking past your callous disregard of me.”

  Callous disregard? The last time he saw her, he’d been hurt, exhausted, and only wanted to feed and rest. But she’d refused, miffed at whatever he’d supposedly done—wait! That’s right, he didn’t want to fuck her. Hell, he hadn’t wanted her in that way for decades.

  “I feel your hunger. Now take me,” she ordered, impatience tainting her tone.

  Best to get this over with. He leaned a hand on the doorjamb, his gaze hard. “We’re done. Have been for decades. This arrangement between us is over.”

  “What? Why would you say that?” She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I see, you’re making me pay because I didn’t come when you called recently. Very well, I’m chastised. Besides, animal blood isn’t going to help you now. It’s been way too long, you’re famished.” Her gaze skimmed over his sweaty appearance and blood-drenched clothes in distaste.

  He’d fed from Týr earlier, and it had tamped down the thirst. Except his starved psyche nailed him like a fist in the gut, demanding her energy-giving blood. His fangs ached. But Shae’s smile when he’d finally claimed her filled his mind and was imprinted on his heart. She was all that mattered to him, the light to his darkness.

  “Look, I’m grateful you came when I called you through the centuries. But I’m mated now.”

  “What?” Her mouth fell open. “Mated? Why would you do something that foolish when you have me?”

  Yes, because she was so fucking good to him, taking away his dignity, making him crawl just to eat.

  Shae made him feel many things—anger, frustration at her stubbornness that he wanted to shake her at times—and, hell, she could give as good as she got when angry, but not once did she belittle or demean him. More, it was the way she smiled, the way she looked at him, like he was her entire world… She made him whole again.

  Kaerys’ glared at him. He held her stare. Though she didn’t deserve his honesty, he gave it anyway. “It’s a soul-joining.”

  “What?” she blinked, fury brightening her eyes. Darts of power pierced him like needles before fading. Then she waved his comment aside and smiled like Bob finding a bowl of cream. “It doesn’t matter. You didn’t choose her like you did me. I mean, your sire didn’t want your mother either.”

  She dared compare him to his old man? He ground his teeth, struggling not to let his temper erupt.

  “Dagan, we were betrothed once. Even though you broke it, I waited for you for centuries. Then I found you again when Michael called me. I gave you a way out. She obviously cannot fulfill this—your most vital need.”

  “I don’t care. Just go.” He entered his room, relieved that she couldn’t follow with the wards in place. Hedori was ever vigilant in changing them weekly.

  “Aaargh!” She stomped her foot, finding her way obstructed. “This isn’t over.”

  It was. Dagan didn’t bother repeating himself. He headed for his closet to change his bloodied shirt before he went after Shae.

  * * *

  Panting like a landed fish, Shae drew to a halt just past the lake near a wooden bench, hands on her knees, gulping in copious amounts of air. The moon peering from behind thick rainclouds cast a silvery light over everything.

  “Coming?” Elytani asked, swiping the sweat from her brow, reminding Shae that she hadn’t been able to go for a run alone. Hell, she hadn’t cared. She needed to work out her anger and helplessness at seeing her traumatized mother.

  “In a moment.” She inhaled another lungful of air. “Go on, I’ll catch up in a minute.”

  Since they were close to the castle, Elytani nodded and jogged off. Gah, immortals and their insane stamina! She drank more water from her bottle, then reached down and rubbed her burning calf muscles. Her thoughts back on her mother, she hoped she’d get a few hours of sleep at least. With her memories of her time in captivity blocked, it terrified Shae what might occur when they returned.

  “Excuse me.”

  At the strange voice, Shae straightened and frowned at the tall woman approaching her in a dark green, tunic-style dress that hugged her curvy figure. She could only be another immortal. Silky, cinnamon-brown hair framed her striking face and flowed down her back. There was something vaguely familiar about her.

  Shae swiped away a strand of hair that stuck to her sweaty brow, suddenly feeling too grubby in her knee-length black tights and gray tank.

  Dark brown eyes skimmed over her in disdain. “We must talk.”

  “About?”

  “You are Dagan’s mate, no?”

  Her spine stiffened. She narrowed her eyes. “I am. Who are you?”

  A knowing smile crossed the other woman’s face. “I introduced myself to you in the mountains.”

  What the hell was she talking about? Then it clicked. “The dream—you!”

  “Indeed. I’m Kaerys, goddess of chaos. His betrothed.”

  “Really?” Shae countered. “Yet, he mated me.”

  Kaerys flicked her comment off with a wave of her hand. “It means nothing. He knows that better than anyone.” Her expression hardened. Power rolled off her and stung Shae like pinpricks. “Because of you and some noble self-oath he’s taken, he now suffers, and will continue to hunger since he refuses to feed from me.”

  Her stomach twisted into an excruciating knot at the woman’s words, but it didn’t stop her. “So you’re saying you’re willing to be a donor for him without demanding more?”

  “Why would I do that? He’s mine. My betrothed. He stayed faithful to me through the ages.” She stalked up to Shae, her dark eyes steaming with hostility. “But now, because of you, he’ll soon be at mortal strength. With his honor so ingrained, he’ll continue fighting never-ending evil until his last breath. Yes, human, he will die because you are selfish.”

  And that struck her in the chest like an arrow as her fears were given words. Because everything the witch said was true. She was nothing but a liability. And because of her, Dagan would lose so much. He could…die.

  Oh, God!
Her knees buckled. The bottle fell from her hand. Shae grabbed the backrest of the bench, tears blurring her eyes.

  “I’m glad you see sense, human—”

  “What the hell are you doing here, Kaerys?”

  At Dagan’s roar, Shae glanced back. His chest heaved, like he’d run all the way to her. He probably had, but she could barely think straight at the dread seeping through her.

  He could die, the words ricocheted inside her head.

  The goddess cast him a sultry smile. “There you are, my love. After we parted, I thought it only fair to find her and explain the way things are.”

  What? He’d been with her? No-no, she rubbed her burning eyes.

  “Shae—” He grasped her arms, making her look at him. “Whatever she’s implied hasn’t happened.”

  Shae struggled to get her thoughts away from the yawning chasm that would reel her into darkness. “Then why?”

  Those yellow eyes flared with suppressed fury. “She’s been keeping track—”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Kaerys burst out, stomping closer to him as if to break their intimacy. “I came because you’re hurt. Again.”

  “Shut the hell up, Kaerys!”

  “What?” Shae hurriedly searched his black t-shirt but couldn’t see anything. She grasped the hem of his tee. He caught her hands, his lips compressing. His usually sexy bronze skin appeared pallid and stretched taut over the bones of his face. And she knew. “You’re hurt.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t.” She pulled away, feeling as if her heart would shatter. “Everything she said is true anyway. I-I can never give you what you need. Only she can. You even stayed with her through the millennia.”

  The hard set of his features realigned into one of frustration. “Because it was easier. For that reason alone and no other!”

  “That’s what you think,” she whispered. “For her, it was a commitment.”

  As illogical and painful as it was, she would have far preferred if he’d gone to different women. Then this goddess wouldn’t be gloating at how he’d stayed faithful to her through the centuries.