by Laura Kaye
She didn’t want him to go—it was impossible to shake the worry that nagged her as he got ready to leave. She followed him into the bedroom and perched on the edge of the bed as he pulled clothes from the drawer and finished dressing.
When he was done, he came and sat beside her, picked up her hand, and kissed her fingers. “If you ever need someone and I’m not around, go to Carl. He’s a good guy.”
“I don’t want to go to Carl, and why won’t you be around?”
“It’s unlikely, but just in case. I shouldn’t be too long. Wait for me here.”
He kissed her lips then stood and left the room.
Tara stared after him, biting her lip, and fighting the urge to call him back. For some reason, it felt like he was saying goodbye.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A fierce desire to turn around almost stopped Christian in his tracks. His fists clenched at his side as he fought the need to go back to her, make love to her one last time.
All through the long day without her, he’d gone over and over the facts, searching for a way to keep Tara safe. He’d failed his wife and daughters. He could not fail Tara.
Asmodai was after him, and while the demon hid in the Abyss sending a limitless supply of minions to perform his filthy work, there was little Christian could do to stop him. Images of Chloe’s mutilated body haunted his mind. He couldn’t let that happen to Tara. He had to find a way to stop Asmodai.
Then there were the fae. As things stood, they would hunt down and kill Tara on sight. Christian had come up with a deal to offer the Walker. If the fae agreed, there was a high chance Christian would never see her again. He could find no way around that, but Tara would have a chance at that normal life she craved. A normal life without him.
He went straight to the weapons room and kitted out, pulled a long, black leather trench coat over it all, and went up to meet Piers, who was already waiting in reception.
“Hmm,” Piers said, as Christian approached, “you smell of your little human. Have you marked her yet?”
“No.”
Graham sat behind the desk. But Christian didn’t speak to him. If things went badly tonight then in all likelihood Graham would die. The mark would ensure that. What was there to say to him?
He led Piers out into the night. Only when they reached the brightly lit street did he turn to the other man.
“So,” he asked, “did you organize it?”
Piers nodded. “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”
“It’s about Tara.”
“Your human? What’s she got to do with the Walker?”
“Well the problem is, she’s not actually human.”
Piers raised an eyebrow. “She’s not?”
“No. That’s what the talisman does. It contains a spell which hides her true nature.”
“And that is?”
“She’s half-fae.”
“Are you kidding me?”
Christian shook his head. “Her mother was fae.”
“And her father?”
“Demon.”
Shock flared in Piers’s eyes, quickly replaced by disgust. “Great, just fucking great,” he muttered. “You know what this means, don’t you? She’s the one they’re hunting for. She’s the abomination.”
“Don’t call her that,” Christian growled.
“Okay, but you admit it—she is the one they’re looking for?”
“Yes. They must have sensed her months ago when she took off the talisman the first time. They’ve been searching for her ever since.”
“And couldn’t find her because she’d put it back on. Which is why they came to us.” Piers ran a hand through his hair. “You swore an oath to destroy her.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
“Look, if you can’t do it, I will. I’ll make sure it’s painless. She won’t even know it’s going to happen.”
Christian stopped, swung round, and placed a fist in the center of Piers’s chest. “If you lay one fucking finger on her, I’ll rip you apart.”
“You could try,” he said. “It might even be fun. We’ve never really known which one of us would come out on top in a fight. You want to go for it?”
They stared at each other for long minutes, unaware of the stream of humanity that parted around them. Finally, Christian dropped his hand. “No.”
Piers rubbed at his chest. “I won’t touch her.”
“Good.”
“But you’d better have a bloody good plan or this has all the potential to plunge us back into the dark ages. You remember the dark ages don’t you, Christian? Chaos and mayhem.”
“I thought you liked chaos.”
“That was before I got respectable.”
Christian almost smiled at the idea. Almost, but not quite. The problem was, he did remember. He remembered it well, and even for Tara he couldn’t justify plunging the world back into that. He had to find a way to neutralize the fae without tipping them over the edge into war. He suddenly became aware that they were on a busy street. People gave them a wide berth, but still they were drawing attention.
“Let’s get moving. I’ll tell you on the way. Where are we meeting?”
“At a bar, around the corner from here. I thought it might be better to be somewhere public.”
“The Walker was okay with that?”
Piers shrugged. “He agreed. So what’s this plan of yours?”
Christian spoke as they walked.
“You think she’ll agree?” Piers asked when Christian fell silent.
“It’s what she’s always wanted, and I can give it to her.”
“You won’t be able to see her again. You’ll have to cut yourself off completely.”
“I don’t know how else to convince the fae. Do you?”
“I’m not even convinced this will convince the fae, but it’s worth a try. And if that doesn’t work I vote for killing him.”
“The Walker?”
Piers nodded. “At least it will give you more time with her and me a great deal of pleasure.”
“And bring the whole fae nation down on us.”
“Might be worth it. I’ve always hated that guy.” He grinned. “I know. I’m a man with responsibilities now. I can’t go around killing people just because I don’t like them, but maybe we could make the odd exception.” He came to a halt. “Right, we’re here. Last chance to back out.”
Christian shook his head and followed Piers into the bar. The room was almost empty and a heavy silence hung in the air.
“He’s over there,” Piers said, nodding in the direction of the back of the room.
The Walker sat in the shadows, facing the door, and his eyes glowed in the dim light.
“I need a drink,” Piers said. “Christian?”
Christian shook his head and waited, impatient, while. Piers ordered a beer. The Walker rose to his feet as they approached. Christian studied him, searching for similarities, and once you knew to look, they were there to see. The Walker had Tara’s green eyes, her fine bones, even the blond hair was the exact color and texture. How could he have missed that Tara was fae?
“I hope this meeting is to tell me you have solved my problem and the abomination is dead.”
Piers took a sip of his beer. “Not quite.”
The Walker’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth formed into a thin line. “Then why am I here?”
“Sit down,” Christian said. “Both of you.”
Kicking a chair out from the table, Christian sat and looked pointedly at Piers. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Piers sank into the chair next to him. Finally, the Walker took his seat. “I sense you want something from me?”
Christian nodded. “I want you to release me from the vow I made.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can,” Piers said.
The Walker cast him a look of intense dislike. “Okay, I won’t do that.”
“I think you will,” Christian sa
id.
“I expect such treachery from this one.” The Walker nodded at Piers, who grinned and flashed his fangs. “But you are held to be a man of honor, a man who carries out his oaths.”
“There are some things that even I would consider more important that my honor.”
“And those things are?”
Christian remained silent.
“Love,” Piers said.
“Love?”
Piers shrugged. “He’s in love with your abomination.”
Christian stared at him, a growl trickling from his throat.
“Hey,” Piers said. “I’m trying to appeal to his better nature.”
The Walker watched them, a frown on his face as though he didn’t quite know what to make of the whole thing. “My better nature?” he mused. “Do I have one?”
Piers shrugged. “Well, I have to admit it was a long shot, but—”
“Shut up, Piers,” Christian snarled. He turned to the Walker. “I wasn’t aware of the facts back then.”
The Walker raised one arched eyebrow. “And you are now?”
“Most of them. I’m hoping you can clear up the last few things.”
“I’m interested in this love thing.” He studied Christian. “I wasn’t aware that vampires were capable of love.”
“It’s irrelevant.”
“I don’t think so. Tell me about her. I presume it is a ‘her.’”
Christian searched the fae’s face. This was not a direction he would have chosen to go without Piers’s intervention, but perhaps it would help. Or hinder. It was too late to stop now.
“We were told she looks like her mother,” he said. “And she has your eyes.”
“What?”
“Her eyes, they’re green like yours, and her hair is blond, almost silver.”
“And she looks like her mother?”
Christian nodded.
The Walker rose to his feet, his body rigid, his fists clenched at his side. Piers glanced at Christian in query, and Christian shrugged. The Walker turned back to them. His eyes filled with a deep sorrow. “Her mother was my brother’s child.”
It was Christian’s turn to be stunned. “What?”
“My people do not produce many children, and Lillian was the last.”
“What happened to her?”
“The demons took her. She was much loved by our people. She was a beautiful child and grew into a beautiful young woman. All who saw her wanted her.”
“How?” Piers asked. “She should have been safe in the Faelands.”
“Lillian was fascinated by earth and humans. She was always crossing over. The last war was on, my brother tried to keep her at home, but she slipped away and must have been seen by demons. They love to take beautiful things and destroy them.”
“That’s when you came to us?”
He nodded. “My brother was frantic, but it was too late. When the war was over and the demons banished, we thought we might find her. We hoped she would return home to us, but she’d disappeared, and we believed her already dead.”
“Instead, she was pregnant and running from you because she knew you would kill her unborn child. Would you really have killed an innocent baby?”
The Walker didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“And people believe demons to be evil.” Piers shook his head.
“We cannot allow demons access to the Faelands. It is why the child had to be killed, why she must die now.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“She’s part demon and can enter the Faelands. They will use her against us.”
“She’s also part fae, doesn’t that matter?”
“It can’t matter. We have to protect ourselves.”
“They can’t use her if they don’t have her,” Christian said. “If I can guarantee they will never know of her existence will you back off? Let her live.”
The Walker appeared thoughtful. “How could you do this?”
“Have you been able to find her?”
“No. We felt the presence once, months ago, and again ten days past. We sensed its dual nature and we’ve been hunting since, but found nothing.”
“She’s not an ‘it.’” Christian growled.
The Walker shrugged. “It never occurred to me that this could be a child of Lillian’s. We thought it a human with traces of fae and demon blood. But a half-demon, half-fae, she could go anywhere—enter the Abyss, the Faelands. The Accords would not hold her.”
“She has no wish to enter the Faelands or the Abyss. She’s grown up believing she’s human, and all she wants is a normal life.”
“Are the demons aware of her existence?”
“Only to the extent you are. They sensed her, but she’s hidden to them now.”
“How is she hidden?”
“She wears a talisman. It hides her true nature.” He paused. “Her mother had it made. She paid for it with her blood and her life. Would you have that sacrifice made for nothing?”
The Walker pursed his lips. “She’s part demon, there will come a time when she will cause trouble.”
“Not if she never knows what she is, who she is. What if we arrange it so she truly believes she’s human? If she remembers nothing of the worlds of fae and demons?”
“You mean more magic?”
Christian nodded.
“Would she agree to this?”
“It doesn’t matter. It would be done.”
“The demons could still find her, use her.”
“Not if she continues to wear the talisman. We can increase the compulsion in the spell. She won’t ever take it off.”
“Let me think this through.”
He walked away from them, and Christian watched him go.
“Do you realize Tara is his niece?” Piers asked, and Christian nodded. “If he says no, what are we going to do?”
“Kill him.”
Piers laughed softly. “Let’s hope then.”
The Walker came back. He sat down “You do this,” he said to Christian, “and you lose her forever. She must forget you along with all the rest.”
“I know.”
He frowned. “Is this real love? The willingness to let something go.”
“I’m giving her what she wants.”
“Does she love you, this daughter of Lillian?”
Christian thought back to Tara lying beneath him, giving herself so freely, her soft words of love echoing in his ears. He forced them from his mind. “It doesn’t matter.”
“If she’s a true child of Lillian’s, she won’t thank you for this.”
“She won’t know. I’m giving her the chance of a normal life.”
“You have your deal, Christian Roth. The child of Lillian will not die at the hands of the fae, but she will forget all. But if she ever removes the talisman, the deal is off, and I will kill her myself.”
A rush of mingled emotions ran through Christian. Relief that Tara would be safe, but also a deep, dark vein of regret that she would be lost to him forever. “I’ll see that it’s done.”
The Walker rose, nodded at Christian, ignored Piers, and left.
“Damn,” Piers said, staring at the door as it closed behind the Walker. “He agreed. I can’t believe it. My chance to kill the bastard gone.”
“I’m sure there’ll be another.” Christian ran a hand through his hair, the energy leaking out of him. He was halfway there. The fae had been the tricky part. It was always uncertain which way they would go.
“So what now?” Piers asked.
Now was the easy part. Like Piers said, there was nothing tricky about a demon. He was going to face Asmodai. He was going to fight, and in all likelihood, he was going to die.
Because they would meet in the Abyss.
While on Earth, they could meet on equal terms, and there was a chance he could beat the demon, in the Abyss, the demon’s power would be almost limitless. But if Asmodai agreed to his deal, at least Tara would be safe.
The t
hought of his probable death drove his desperation to see her one last time, to hold her again.
“I need to see Tara, tell her the fae are off her back.”
“Can’t you phone?”
“No.” He rose to his feet. “Afterward, we need to see Jonas Callaghan, make sure he’s okay with doing the spell.”
“He’ll want something in return.”
“Then we’ll just have to give it to him.”
…
A deep sense of foreboding nagged Tara. She wanted Christian here, where she could see him, touch him. There was a connection between them, growing stronger, which translated into anxiety when he wasn’t with her.
She tried reading a book, switched on the TV, switched it off again.
Finally, she fastened the holster to her belt, pulled a jacket on to hide the gun, and took the elevator down to the shooting range. She practiced until the bullets hit the target each time, sometimes even close to the center. Then she tried a couple of rapid draws, like she’d seen in the movies, and missed totally.
Glancing at her watch, she realized an hour had passed. He should be back soon. She pulled her jacket on and headed back up to reception. As the elevator opened, Christian walked through the sliding glass doors with Piers. He came straight over to her before she could step out of the elevator.
“Come on,” he said, stepping in beside her. “We need to talk.”
As he pressed the down button, Tara slipped her hand into his and peered up at his face. His expression was closed.
“Did it go okay?” she asked.
He didn’t answer, but at that moment, the elevator stopped, and he pulled her into his apartment, slamming the door behind them. She could sense his urgency and frowned.
“What is it, Christian. Did it go wrong? Are the fae coming after me?”
“The fae have agreed to leave you alone. I’ll tell you the details later. I have to go back out with Piers because we’ve one more thing to do so you’ll be safe. But before I go I need to—”
He picked her up and carried her through to the bedroom, laid her on the bed, and stripped off his clothes before coming down beside her.
He undressed her slowly, kissing her skin as it was bared to him. He made love to her. Slow, intense, erotic love, as though he wanted to imprint himself on her body for always. As she drew close to her orgasm, he burrowed his face in her throat, sinking his fangs deep into her. He drank as his hips thrust leisurely into her, grinding relentlessly against her, until she came in a flood of pleasure so powerful that for a moment she blacked out.
