Her embarrassment enclosed him like a thick cloud. “You heard me?”
“Eve, I'm immortal. Heightened senses are a given. What did you mean by that, not feeling anything?”
She cut him a wary look. “Just that when I touched you that first time, I wasn't drawn into your mind and thoughts. I sensed nothing. No emotions, no pain, for the first time ever.”
“So you’ve never touched anyone since you received that power?”
“It’s a curse,” she said, her expression dimming. “I can't touch the people I love. Dating is a disaster, so I rarely did, until Da—” She broke off. Delicate color rushed across her face. He could see her blush clearly, even with just the moonlight.
“Until the artist,” he finished.
“Yes, until David,” she agreed.
Reynner reined in the urge to go after the male and shake him ‘til his teeth rattled. He’d told Eve in Exilum not to look at him for more, so he had no right to interfere. No cause to be angry. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
The pain on his pec intensified, and he welcomed it this time. It was damn good incentive to get his mind off Eve.
Once back in the apartment, Eve dropped her things on the dining table and headed for the kitchen. She hadn't said much to him, except to ask him if he was hungry. He wasn't, but sheer perverseness made him say yes. And forced her to remain with him.
“Fanta or Pepsi,” she asked, opening the fridge.
She gave him the Pepsi he asked for and started on whatever she was preparing for him. Setting the soda on the countertop, he braced his palms on the granite surface. The sizzling aroma of mushrooms and onions soon teased his nostrils.
To get his mind off the agony inside him, he asked, “What is the “dreaded V” your friends spoke about?”
If he hadn't been watching her, he’d have missed the slight stiffening of her spine. She picked up the egg mixture and poured it into the skillet. A snappy hiss saturated the air. “Nothing important.”
The fact that she wouldn’t look at him… Oh, yes, it was. He’d bet his dominion on it.
Reynner struggled to keep his breathing even as the pain multiplied, like red-hot pokers piercing his chest. As always, it became a test of wills. He resisted her summons, and Inanna just upped his torment.
Right now, he far preferred looking at Eve. At least it took his mind off what had to be done soon.
She set down the spatula and dipped a hand into a clear jar half-filled with multicolored beans. She took a few, popped them in her mouth and turned back to the stove. Scooping up the grated cheese, she sprinkled it on the eggs. “Since you insist on staying, you can use the bedroom on the left.”
At the reluctant offer, he didn't say anything. Besides, he rarely slept, not when nightmares plagued him. If he had a choice, her bed would be the only one he wanted to rest in.
The strains of the accursed binding tugged hard, winding him tighter as the burn peaked. His head lowered, his hands clenched the counter.
“What is it?”
He looked up and found her concerned gaze skimming over his face.
It floored him that she would put her own troubles aside, and worry about him.
Reynner wished he were clean and untainted, able to walk over and take her into his arms, like he’d wanted to do from the first moment he crashed into her. Because she truly was all things good. But his life was not his own, not when he was tied to a malicious goddess.
He shook his head, the damn star on his chest hurting like hell. If he didn’t leave now, Inanna could very well come looking for him, and if she saw Eve—no, he would never put her in harm’s way.
“I have to go. I’ll be back.”
Eve opened her mouth then clamped it shut. He’d seen the questions she wanted to ask, reflected in her eyes. Not like he could give her any answers.
She stared at the pan for an excruciatingly long second before nodding. Then she switched off the stove and covered the skillet with a lid. “Your meal is in here. Goodnight.”
Reynner watched her go. The bedroom door closed with a soft click. Eyes squeezed tight, he blew out a rough breath and walked out of the apartment, anger raging through him.
He’d told her he wouldn’t leave her alone and unprotected, but he was the biggest threat to her.
He ground his teeth against the pain slicing through him through the eight-point star burned in his flesh. A stroll through lava would be less painful than the shit incinerating him from the inside.
Since Inanna’s failed attempt to get him back several days ago, she was now determined to haul him to her temple. With the mood he was in, he’d probably kill her. Tempting as that was, it would mean his own death. And that, he couldn’t let happen, not while his realm needed him. Besides, the repercussions of killing a goddess meant causing a war Empyrea didn’t need right now.
Memories took him back to the fateful night he stopped at the Sumerian temple.
He’d spent centuries traipsing through the Realm of the Gods—through various pantheons—searching for his friend who’d been banished, unable to live with his guilt of being party to Ariana’s death. During that mind-numbing journey, he’d stopped at the Halls of the Guards in the Sumerian pantheon. And there Inanna was.
Males surrounded her. He’d thought her just another female of pleasure who worked the halls. Sure, she was stunning, but so were the females of his world.
When she wandered over, and he found out that she was a goddess, he’d been amused that she wanted him. However, he did succumb to her seductive charms—a pleasant way to pass the night, he thought, and foolishly agreed not to use his powers while with her.
What the hell could she do?
He was an Empyrean, created to be all-powerful and feared.
Yes, the stupidity of his arrogance had tied him forever to his oath when he’d so foolishly agreed not to use his powers while with her.
Chapter 12
Reynner stepped through the portal mists and into the Sumerian’s temple. Satisfied she had no hallucinogenic herbs burning here, he walked inside.
A lamp came flying at him, missing his face by inches. The thing hit the pillar beside him and crashed to the floor, splintering into pieces. “You dared take this long?”
Inanna sat on the rumpled bedding, her chest heaving with each furious breath she took. Inky tresses fell across her flushed face. She resembled the lions she preferred to keep as guards, who lay near her circular bed.
Their low rumbles vibrated in the room as the animals stirred, sensing her anger. Tawny eyes flickered in his direction. Reynner simply held the predators’ stare. He’d faced worse than these two overgrown kittens.
Synchronous jaw-breaking yawns revealed their deadly incisors before they closed their yaps and rested their big heads on their paws.
Inanna rose from her bed and sashayed down the three stairs to his level. As she descended, her black gown parted, revealing her nakedness. It had little effect on him. He just wanted this over.
Her lustful gaze swept over him to linger on his face. He half expected her to launch herself at him. Instead, she drifted past him to the marble columns supporting the dome-shaped ceiling in the seating area. Black cushions with silver and blue embroidery were strewn on the floor around a low table. She pushed a black bowl aside, then picked up a pewter carafe and poured a ruby-red liquid into a matching goblet then glided toward him.
She held out the wine, but he continued to stare at her.
“It’s not drugged.” She pouted. Then, to prove a point, she sipped the liquor. Seconds later, she flung the goblet. It flew through the air, hit the opposite pillar, and fell to the floor with a dull clunk.
Yeah, he’d learned his lesson never to eat or drink anything in this place the hard way. But the unfamiliar musky, aromatic smell in the air grew stronger, and a light haze blanketed his mind.
Inanna drew closer, a smile curving her lips.
Reynner shook his head, trying to clear the h
aze…have to get back to…to…
The fragrance drifting through the room seeped into his pores and infiltrated his thoughts. His body started to relax. Hands caressing his back, slid to his front. The name he wanted vanished from his thoughts. A ripping sound echoed the chamber. Cool air brushed his skin, and his shirt disappeared. Heated hands stroked his chest.
His usual abhorrence of anyone touching him faded.
This was her.
Needs he’d suppressed for eons resurfaced. He had to have her…had to have—gods, he’d waited so long—
In the lust-induced miasma surrounding him, he grabbed her arms, pushed her against the pillar, and met gleaming, topaz eyes.
Something wasn’t right…the eyes…
Reynner shook his fuzzy head, tried to clear the haze. As she reached up and tried to kiss him, he grasped her face and peered into her eyes.
No—no, not green—topaz. His gut twisted in pain at the truth. Revulsion tearing through him, he shoved away. Next time, he’d fucking chain himself in his dungeon like he usually did to avoid her calls.
Desperate for clean air, he flung open the windows with his mind, then grabbed the black bowl with smoke rising from it—and hurled it outside. He should have known she’d try her shit again.
“Say what the fuck you have to. You have five seconds,” he forced out through clenched teeth.
“Reynner…” Low. Sultry. “Let me make it up to you. I know I can. Give me a day, it’s all I want.”
“Once was a mistake that will never be repeated,” he told her, his voice flat as the desert beyond the temple.
Her face darkened with frustrated desire. “Don’t push me aside, Reynner. You won’t like what I will do.”
In response, he turned away and looked for his shirt, then remembered she’d torn it off him.
“Whoever keeps you from me will regret it. Do you honestly think I don’t know where you spend most of your time?” she spat at him.
His gaze hardened. “Once again, you waste my time. I have work to do.”
At his dismissal, her shriek reverberated through the chambers. A blast of her power sent him slamming into the wall. She leaped at him and slapped her hand over his heart. The searing pressure of her touch had him grunting in pain. Her power pulsed through the mark she’d branded him with when he’d first tried to leave her eons ago.
Breathing hard, he shoved her off him. She stumbled and landed on the couch.
“Do not threaten me.”
Rage sparked off her. She tossed her hair away from her flushed face, her expression lethal. “I will never let you go.”
Of that, he had little doubt. Two millennia had already proven that. Reynner walked out of her boudoir, weary of her games. He desperately wanted the god-awful stench of this place—and her—off him.
***
The truck arrived on time the next morning. Eve had made the arrangements with Eric several days ago for her sculptures to be transported to his gallery. He liked things in early so he could prep the place and lay out each piece to its best advantage.
Eve cast a quick look down the short passage and bit her lip as she slipped her cell into the pocket of her jeans, after answering the driver’s call.
Reynner was still in the shower, and she had to leave for the studio. But she refused to bang on the door like some demented woman, one she was close to becoming if last night were an indicator of her emotions.
It was humiliating enough to know she’d lain awake in her bed, listening for his return. He’d come back in the early hours of the morning and had made no sound, but instinct had alerted her to his presence. She heard the soft click when the door opposite her room closed. But a faint whiff of an exotic scent drifted to her as if to let her know where he’d been.
Another woman.
A hollow pit opened in her stomach.
Christ, she wasn’t doing this to herself. Reynner’s life was his own, as he’d made it known.
She grabbed a pen, jotted a short note, and set it on the kitchen counter before leaving her apartment.
At her studio, Eve dismantled the larger art pieces first, then tried to keep out of the men’s way. She watched anxiously as they bubble-wrapped and crated each sculpture, making sure her precious cargo wouldn’t bounce around. She trusted Eric to take care of her future.
“Hey, girl, you coming to the gallery today?”
Eve glanced at the enormous man who’d been humming some kind of jazzy tune. A flirty grin rode his wide, dark face. He’d tied the sleeves of his overalls around his waist to reveal a navy tee with ripped-off sleeves and thick, tattooed arms.
Eric used Joe Livingstone whenever he wanted work carted around the city.
“No, Joe. I know you’ll take care of my babies. I have some work to complete. I’ll pop in tomorrow.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll make real sure it’s all safe.” Joe called out instructions for the crates to be carried out to the truck.
Eve followed the men. She stood to the side and watched while they loaded the vehicle with the smaller crates, when Joe abruptly stopped singing and looked past her.
A tingle snaking up her spine, Eve didn't have to turn to know why. But she did.
Reynner strode down the alley like a black tornado ready to destroy anything in his way. He stopped an inch from her, his clean, warm scent enveloping her.
“Why the hell didn’t you warn me you had this happening?”
She tilted her chin, not caring that he was rocking mad.
Damn him. How could he just waltz back like everything was all right? As if he hadn’t been with someone else last night? The hated fragrance may be washed off him now, but she’d smelled the truth. Her chest tightened, her heart sliding into that black hole in her stomach.
She would never show him how much he’d hurt her.
Calm and collected, she said, “You weren’t around last night when I remembered.”
“And this morning?”
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I left you a note.”
His eyes blazed. Oh, good, she’d finally rattled him enough to break through the cool mask he wore so well. Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, she stepped away.
His fingers closed around her nape and he hauled her close. At the unexpectedness of his action, she stumbled. Her hands fluttered against his chest.
“Don’t Eve, don’t push me.”
“Or you’ll what?” she shot back.
His gaze skimmed over her up-turned face and settled on her mouth for a tormenting second. A bright blue flame sparked in his dark eyes, and that low, treacherous buzz that took up residence whenever he was near started in her belly again.
Her blood heated in anger. She didn’t want to want him. Christ help her, she really didn’t.
“This is my life, Reynner.” She shoved at his chest, but that was like trying to move a wall. “I don’t have to report every step I take to you. So back off, I’m not your damn prisoner.”
Brave words, but her tears weren’t far off.
“Prisoner?” he bit out, looking as if he were moments from shaking her. She didn’t care.
“You forget the threat—”
“I forget nothing. My work is important, too.”
“Gods, Eve—”
A distant yell cut off what he’d been about to say, broke the moment fraught with tension, anger, and something deeper…something so tangible that her heart jumped straight back into her chest. And pounded against her ribs. Whether it was from what just happened or the shout, Eve had no idea. Reynner vanished. She spun around and froze.
Noooo—God, no—!
But Reynner was already there. He seized a sliding crate seconds before it met with the asphalt, nearly destroying one of her major pieces.
It took several long seconds before she could breathe again. She pressed a trembling hand on her chest. Her legs felt like they would never manage another step again.
Reynner leaped into the truck and helped secu
re the sculpture. As he worked, he cut her a sharp look then said to Joe, “Let me give you a hand with the rest.”
“Good save, man.” Joe wiped his sweaty face on the hanging sleeve of his overalls. “Wouldn’t want this pretty little girl upset.” His smile didn’t replace the panic in his eyes.
“Thank you,” Eve told Reynner when he walked past.
He stopped, those night-sky eyes searching her face. “I would never let what you worked so hard for be destroyed.”
He pulled off his shirt. A slight sheen bathed his golden skin. He was probably feeling the heat, but the sight of all those rippling muscles had her transfixed, yanking her mind out of her terror of nearly losing one of her sculptures.
Reynner grasped her arm, drew her to the side as the men came out carrying more of her work.
“Hold this for me.” He handed her his shirt, then headed inside.
Eve crushed the t-shirt against her chest, struggling not to press the soft fabric against her face, like some schoolgirl with a first crush. She turned and met Joe’s dark gaze. He nodded and resumed his low-key singing of the jazzy tune.
As Reynner helped load the truck, Eve realized he could have single-handedly picked up the crates and done the job in a shorter time. Yet he didn’t let his immense strength show as he assisted the moving crew.
His body gleamed with a light layer of sweat. The muscles trapped beneath his skin rippled with his movements, the scars on his back just a fading red patch now.
Reynner paused when Joe started singing another song. “Satchmo?”
A wide grin flashed across Joe’s dusky face. “Hey, you like Louis Armstrong?”
“I saw him—his videos,” Reynner corrected. “Incredible musician.”
Eve realized then that Reynner had probably seen the man play live.
They finished in record time. Joe pulled out his kerchief from his overall pocket and mopped his face, his tee plastered to his skin. The heat rose off the asphalt, saturating them like a shimmering sauna. “We’re playing jazz down at Scorpions on Saturday. You want to come over and hang with us?”
The night of her show.
Reynner shook his head. “Thanks, but I have to be elsewhere that evening. Rain check?”
Darkness Undone Page 13
