Tall, Dark, and Deadly: Seven Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance

by Laura Kaye

  Maybe he felt like he’d taken advantage? After all, he’d been the one to initiate the kiss, so he must’ve felt attracted to her, right?

  Laney stared at the shifting patterns of light and shadow on the ceiling and sighed. It had been so damn long since she’d last been with a man. Four years. That wasn’t a dry spell—that was the freaking Sahara Desert.

  It was a problem she didn’t know how to fix. She couldn’t go anywhere to meet anyone without Seth’s assistance, and Seth didn’t do much to help her attract members of the opposite sex. In fact, just the opposite. Half the time, people assumed they were a couple. But, as much as she loved him, she didn’t feel that way about Seth. Never had.

  Not to mention, she was sorta hardwired to expect guys to decide she was too much to deal with. That had certainly been the case with Ryan, her last lover and boyfriend of two years, who had dumped her because he couldn’t handle her deteriorating condition. They’d met in college while she’d still possessed a large percentage of her central vision and before she’d gone totally blind in her left eye. By the end of their relationship, she’d been down to ten percent of her central vision in her left and about forty in her right. He’d always been so supportive, she never realized that he was actually freaking out. He’d seen the writing on the wall, and he hadn’t liked it.

  One thought about the night he’d said he wanted to talk about their future and that old humiliation swamped her. In her secret heart, she’d been expecting a proposal. Instead, he broke up with her. It’s not you, it’s me.

  At least his rejection had made moving back in with her grandfather an easy decision. And thank God she had or she never would’ve been here to share the last year of his life. She wouldn’t have traded that for anything.

  But Ryan’s reaction was a damn good reason to put the brakes on her runaway libido where Chrys was concerned. If her RP turned off a far-from-perfect man, she couldn’t see why it would be any different with…whatever Chrys was.

  Ugh.

  Annoyed with herself, Laney eased her legs off the bed. “Some guard dog you are,” she muttered to Finn, who pushed himself up with a grunt and laid his head on her knee. She gave him what he wanted and scratched his ears for a while. “Okay, out of the way, you.” She rose and reached for her cell phone on the nightstand, but what caught her attention was a spot of yellow light.

  The feather. He’d returned it to her after all. Warm pressure filled her chest. This was further proof that Chrys existed. That he’d been here. That she wasn’t losing her mind.

  Smiling, she clutched it to her chest. As she held it, she inhaled the faintest hint of that incredible scent she remembered from the previous night. The feather tickled as she brought it against her nose. God, that smell is amazing. A thought came to mind and she couldn’t resist. She moved to the bottom of the bed, about where she thought Chrys had been laying, and lifted the covers to her face.

  The blanket was absolutely permeated with the scent of the sun and the summertime air and the richness of growing, fragrant things. It was the scent that had surrounded her as they kissed. She would’ve bottled it if she could, she found it so appealing. And, was it just her imagination, or was this part of the blanket warmer? She rubbed it against her face and a shiver ran through her, like when he’d stroked her cheek.

  I am never again washing that blanket. The thought made her chuckle. Who needs the blanket if you have the man? her mind helpfully added.

  Yeah, well, she’d asked him to stay, hadn’t she?

  Where the hell was he, anyway?

  In the bathroom, Laney cleaned up and changed her bandages. She’d almost walked away from that job and left her hand uncovered, but at the last minute it occurred to her that she had absolutely no way to explain to Seth, should he notice, how her hand had healed so completely so fast. And he’d notice, all right. So, with a twinge of guilt over the lie, she wrapped clean gauze around her palm.

  The one Chrys had apparently healed by blowing his warm, ticklish breath against her skin until she’d been hot and breathless. She couldn’t even let herself think about the idea of him using the same treatment on her leg without her pulse spiking. God, if kissing him got her this worked up, she couldn’t imagine what she’d feel if anything more ever happened.

  As if.

  The part of her brain shouting that she was freaking crazy, that all of this was totally nuts… Well, she boxed that up nice and tight. If being almost blind taught her anything, it was that sometimes things were more than what they seemed at first glance. A whole lot more.

  “Where are you?” she asked her kitchen after she finished breakfast. Great, now she was talking to herself. But she couldn’t help it. All morning she kept expecting Chrys around every corner.

  She settled in at her desk and opened her latest project—her bimonthly column for an international magazine for the blind. Each column featured a person successful in their job, who also happened to be vision impaired. Her document opened across a pair of computer monitors with huge screen magnifiers that made it possible to make out what she typed. When her vision ultimately deteriorated, she’d have to invest in some good voice recognition and screen reader software. This column was about a really interesting massage therapist…except she just couldn’t concentrate on him.

  Where was Chrys?

  Why had he said he’d stay if he had no intention of doing so?

  Was he coming back?

  One thing was certain, she’d better pull herself together before she saw Seth or he’d know right away something was up. And no way could she tell him any of this. Not if she wanted him to continue to support her independence. He’d never believe her. And why should he? Everything about the past week had been way, way outside the bounds of normal.

  Focus, Laney. Right. Another couple hundred words and she’d have this thing wrapped up. She replayed part of his interview to get the quote she wanted. She’d no more started to type when a knock sounded at her front door.

  Finn raised his head, sniffed, and growled.

  Laney pushed out of her chair. “Now you’re going to guard the place? When someone knocks at the door instead of just appearing in my room in the middle of the night?” She hobbled down the hallway and through the kitchen, gritting her teeth the entire way. Strictly speaking, she’d been walking more than she was supposed to, and she was feeling the sting of it.

  The knock sounded again.

  Who the heck could it be, anyway? She rarely had visitors. And anyone who came for horse or farm-related business either met up with Seth directly or made an appointment with her.

  She pulled open the front door and scanned to see who was there.

  On the other side of the screen door stood an unusually tall woman. Surrounded by a deep red light.

  Laney’s heart tripped into a sprint and her scalp prickled.

  She didn’t know what that red glow meant, but instinct told her it was nothing good.

  “Can I help you?” Laney managed, her narrow vision focused as much as she could on the woman’s drawn face. Finn pushed his body against her leg, whining and growling low in his throat.

  “I hope you can,” the woman replied in an accent Laney couldn’t identify. “I am looking for Notos.”

  “Who?”

  Finn put himself in front of her, his agitation escalating by the moment. The woman tilted her head to the side, as if she was assessing Laney with that severe expression and stony gaze. She wore some kind of a scarf over what seemed to be unusually full hair.

  “Notos. He was here. The other one, too,” she scowled.

  Laney shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone by that name.” Finn backed into her, like he was trying to push her away from the door. She patted his rump. “Stop it, Finn.”

  “Ah. Yes, right.” The woman narrowed her gaze. “How about the name Chrysander? Is that one more familiar?”

  “No, I’m sorry,” she said, and then her heart hammered against her breastbone so ha
rd she could feel it everywhere. Chrysander. Chrys? Her gut told her that was right. Whoever this person was, she was looking for Chrys. And she didn’t bring good news, that much her instincts—and Finn’s—were making crystal clear. Laney had to get rid of her. “I don’t know anyone by those names. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

  The dark red flared. “As am I.” She disappeared.

  Laney gasped. She scanned her gaze over the spot where the woman had been standing. What in the freaking world was going on? Finn whined and pushed against the screen door. Trembling, she eased it open and scanned her vision over the porch on either side of the door. Empty.

  Finn forced his way out and sniffed the wood where the woman had stood. He kept sneezing and shaking his head.

  “Come in, Finn,” Laney whispered, her voice stolen by the fear gripping her throat. “Finn, now.”

  When the dog trotted past her, she yanked the screen door closed and secured the door. She fell back against the frame and tried to calm her breathing. What had she gotten herself involved with? Better yet, what had Chrys—no, Chrysander—gotten her mixed up in?

  She. Freaking. Disappeared.

  As in…poof, gone, now you see me, now you don’t. Ta-da!

  Trembling, Laney limped her way to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. For several long minutes, she allowed herself to think only of the rich brew. The warm smoothness going down her throat. The mix of cream and French roast. Whether it needed a bit more sugar.

  Coffee, she could handle. Coffee was real.

  Glowing people and sky-fighting and miraculously healing injuries? At this moment, not so much.

  Mug in hand, Laney made her way to her bedroom. A monster of a headache was taking up residence behind her right eye, and a nap was sounding more and more appealing despite the fact that it wasn’t even noon. Just an hour, and then she’d get back to work.

  A nap would help. She just needed a reset on this whole day.

  Already imagining how good her pillow would feel, Laney took a sip of her coffee as she entered her room. A scuff of a footstep. A movement of light. She gasped and stumbled. “Who’s there?”

  …

  “Laney,” Chrys said, rushing to her as she slammed backward into the door. A drink sloshed all down her front. “It’s me. Are you all right?”

  Gods, he left her alone for a few hours and a Fury showed up. Tisiphone, no less. If she’d meant harm, Livos might not have been strong enough to protect Laney. And where had Chrys been when the lesser god summoned him? Off losing his brother’s trail. Again.

  “Shit,” she said as she steadied the mug. “Chrys? You scared me.”

  He stepped in front of her and frowned. Her eyes glanced around wildly, her gaze not seeming to focus. Tisiphone’s presence had apparently done a real number on her. Sonofabitch. Next time—no, there wouldn’t be a next time. He’d just have to figure out a way to juggle finding Eurus and protecting Laney himself. Which meant he owed Zeph and Boreas some conversations pretty damn quick.

  He bent down so his face was in front of hers and cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Shh, you’re okay.” His thumbs swept over her soft cheekbones. Gods, she was beautiful. He stared into the dark blue of her eyes, but she didn’t really seem to meet and track his. I need you to get me out of the stall. I’m having trouble seeing. He sucked in a breath. Could she…? “Laney, can you see me?”

  She clenched her lids closed and heaved a shaky breath. “Sorta.” She tugged her shirt away from her chest. “It burns.”

  Chrys glanced down. Angry red marred the skin showing above the V-neck of her shirt. “Damn it all to Hades. Take the shirt off. I can help you. Like last night.” Emitting and absorbing heat were powers granted by his godhood.

  She stood plastered against the door, indecision and fear written all over her face. Blowing out a shaky breath, she tore the wet cotton over her head and dropped it to the floor.

  Almighty Zeus, she was spectacular. Dark blue lace formed an intriguing pattern over the swells of her breasts. He dragged his gaze away from feasting on her many appealing attributes. “Trust me, okay?”

  She gave a very small nod that looked like it had taken every ounce of courage.

  The burn marks ran from her chest to her stomach to her feet. Chrys decided to ease her into it and knelt. He pressed his palms to the tops of her feet and beckoned the heat within to come to him. “Better?”

  Shaking a bit harder now, she nodded.

  “Do you want to sit down?”

  “No, just do…whatever you’re doing,” she said, her teeth almost chattering from the adrenaline pumping through her system. It was so potent, he could smell it.

  He rose and covered her stomach from her waist to just under the blue satin of her bra with his hand. She sucked in a breath, and he plunged onward, placing his other hand between her breasts, fingers reaching upward. The heat poured into him, life-giving and strengthening, but he took no pleasure in it. Not when it flowed from that which pained her.

  “Does it hurt anywhere else?” He held his palms against her, making sure he’d absorbed all her pain away.

  “No.” She bit down hard on her trembling lower lip. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, not when I caused it.”

  “If you’re going to be popping in like this, maybe we should get you a bell.” She attempted a smile.

  Chrys dropped his hands, and hers immediately flew to cover her chest. “Can you grab me a shirt from the chest of drawers over by the bathroom?”

  He tugged his shirt over his head and held it out to her. “Here.”

  She frowned and, after a moment, seemed to see his offering. “I have plenty of my own.”

  He pressed it into her hand anyway, suddenly wanting to see her in it. Finally, she slipped it on. It was miles too big on her and so freaking sexy.

  The moment she was covered, he summoned his brother. Zephyros, I need you. “I know, but I want to help. I’ve been a giant pain in your ass, haven’t I?”

  She managed a nearly genuine grin. “Yeah, kinda. But you’re growing on me.”

  “Like mold.”

  “There’s a fungus among us.” She grimaced.

  Chrys chuckled. “That was an…absolutely terrible joke.”

  She covered her laugh with her hand and nodded. “I know. I babble when I’m nervous. It’s horrible.”

  “Don’t be nervous. I don’t want to make you nervous.” What did he want to make her feel?

  “You just healed me. Again. And you’re half naked now.”

  Heat stirred within him. “Does that bother you?”

  “It doesn’t bother me, exactly. But maybe we should keep our clothes on until we get to know each other a little better.”

  “Annoyingly reasonable,” he said with a smile. He materialized a new shirt. “Better?”

  He studied her eyes as they worked over him. He knew the exact moment she absorbed the fact he’d produced a new shirt by the way her eyebrows flew up into her hairline. “Oh, boy. I think I better sit down now.” She pushed off the door and made for the bed.

  Her limp wasn’t as pronounced as that first day in the barn, but oh, how he wanted to heal her leg, too. Soon. If she’d let him.

  In the meantime, he resisted the urge to scoop her up and carry her the rest of the way. Barely.

  It was an odd desire for him to have, wanting to touch someone so freely, so frequently. Moments ago, he’d had his hands all over her. And he wanted more.

  Where are you, Zeph?

  She leaned against the edge of the bed. “You can sit, if you want.”

  “That’s okay.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Look, I know you have a lot of questions about me, and the visitor you just had necessitates I tell you what’s going on.”

  “The woman?”

  “She wasn’t just a woman, Laney.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Zeph’s energy closed in fast. He materialized into corporeality, a sco
wl on his face.

  Laney gasped, slid off the bed, and pressed her back against Chrys’s front. Was she just seeking his shelter? Did she think she was…protecting him?

  He gripped her shoulders, both possibilities lighting him up inside. “It’s okay. He’s friendly…ish. This is my brother, Zephyros.”

  “He just appeared out of thin air. Just like she did,” she said.

  “What’s going on, Chrys?” Zephyros barged forward, the tone of his voice making it clear he sensed the Fury’s energy here, too.

  “Laney just had a visit from Tisiphone.”

  “Who?” she asked, looking between them.

  “Jesus, Chrys. What the hell is going? And why did you involve the woman?” he asked in an accusing tone.

  “Hey. Give him a break, all right? It wasn’t his fault. He was hurt.” Heat radiated off Laney, soaking into his chest.

  Chrys squeezed her shoulders and kissed the top of her head before he even thought to do it. She sucked in a small breath and leaned into him, the rhythm of her pulse harder, faster beneath his hands. “I’d prefer to explain it when we’re all together. I thought I could handle it on my own, but if Tisiphone’s visit means the Olympians are ready to intervene, I’m willing to admit I need help. Laney appears to be on everyone’s radar now, which is my fault. So I need to protect her until this is over.”

  She pulled out of his arms. “Okay, enough. Stop talking like I’m not here. Someone explain what the hell is going on.”

  “Fine. I’ll call a meeting, but we gotta do this today. Meet at Owen’s? Boreas is already there.”

  “Might be better if they came here,” Chrys said, gesturing to Laney.

  “Um, hello?” Laney crossed her arms, the heat of anger crawling up her face.

  “If you want Owen in on this, it’ll have to be at his place. No way he’ll be willing to leave Megan and Teddy alone. And given the revolving door of visitors here, maybe you should just move her.”

  “Stop it. Just stop!” Laney yelled, drawing both gods’ gazes. “First of all, talking over me is really pissing me off, especially when you’re talking about me. Second of all, I’m not going anywhere. Third of all, what visitors? And who is Tisiphone? Start talking to me. Now.”