by Rose Wulf
“He loves you.” The response was immediate, leading her to believe this really was Darr’s first answer. Perhaps his only. She certainly wouldn’t blame him.
Even so, it wasn’t enough for her in the moment. “Maybe,” she allowed slowly, “but he does it wrong.”
Again, Darr hesitated. “How so?”
Sniffling, Izzy mumbled, “He doesn’t care about what I care about…” And that was far too close to a confession their newly-established relationship probably wasn’t strong enough for just yet. Way, way too close.
Fortunately, before Darr could grill her on that slip-up, her cell began ringing again. It was her father’s ringtone. Determined to ignore it, Izzy tightened her arms around him and did her best to bury her face in his shoulder. Damn did he smell good, too.
One of the arms around her waist pulled away, though, and the next thing she knew Darr was speaking. To her phone. “Mr. Duchane.”
Izzy’s throat went dry and she held her breath. What would her father say?
Apparently Darr had put her phone on speaker, because her father’s vaguely distorted voice was louder than it should have been. “Hello, Darr. I’d like to speak to Izzy.” There was no trace of the heartless bastard in his voice. It was sickening.
“She’s here,” Darr assured him. “You’re on speaker.”
“Oh,” Gerald mumbled, a flicker of awkwardness passing through. He cleared his throat and added, “Izzy, sweetheart?”
Swallowing past her stubbornness, Izzy reluctantly lifted her head but made no move to reach for the phone. “My hanging up on you meant I don’t want to talk anymore,” she said. She needed to get him off the phone as quickly as possible, for so many reasons.
Gerald sighed heavily. “You take things too personally. I wasn’t trying to be offensive, what I said was just the way the world works.”
Renewed anger sparked inside her and Izzy loosened her hold on Darr in order to glare at the phone. “Well if that’s how the world works then I’ll go back to burying my head in the sand. Are you done?”
Darr raised a surprised brow at her, but remained silent. Respectful. She had half a mind to tell him what her father had said, but she worried he’d agree. Then she’d have to be mad at him, too.
“You’re angry now, but you’ll see,” her father insisted. “In the meantime, I thought I’d answer your actual question. To apologize.”
No! But she couldn’t get her mouth to open. Her heart would rather hear the answer than avoid the argument.
“There is not a way to reverse a binding,” her father said clearly. “I would remember if I’d come across one.”
Her stomach sank like she’d swallowed a lead weight and her tears returned. Dropping her head back to Darr’s shoulder she mumbled, “Hang up. Please.”
“Izzy?”
“I’m sorry,” Darr interrupted, “but Izzy’s too upset to talk. Good day.”
Silence reigned in the room after Darr disconnected the call. His arm came back around her supportively, but she could sense his building curiosity. Of course he was going to ask. She would, if she were in his shoes. She just didn’t know what she’d say.
After what seemed like an eternity, voice gentled again to respect her obvious mood, Darr broke the silence the only way he could.
“Why were you asking about breaking our bond?”
Chapter Seven
Izzy stiffened in his arms, but he wasn’t surprised. Clearly she hadn’t wanted him to know—at least not yet—that she was trying to break her father’s binding spell. And despite the familiar guilt that flared in his chest at that enduring lie, Darr couldn’t stop himself from worrying about what that desire could mean. Did she want to get away from him? Had he taken things too far?
The only way to know for certain was to pry it out of her, even if he had to ask repeatedly. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere.
“It-it’s not what it sounds like,” Izzy finally whispered. She leaned back to look at him and he obligingly loosened his grip of her. He didn’t dare yet release her entirely. At the brow he raised in response to her words, Izzy dropped her gaze. Her voice was nearly inaudible, even at this distance. “I don’t want you to be stuck to me.”
Stuck? So that was how she saw it.
Izzy took a breath and looked back up at him. Determination building in her brown eyes. “I love you, Darr. I don’t want to be the face of some justifiable resentment or, worse, the ultimate death of you.”
He reeled, nearly dropping her before he could gather himself. She what? “Shit.”
Swallowing heavily, Izzy pressed on his chest until he released her and quickly backed a respectful distance away. She couldn’t look at him. “I know that isn’t what you wanted to hear. But it’s the truth.” Then she turned and practically ran from the room, leaving him alone.
Alone with his thoughts.
Alone with his frantic heart.
Alone with her lingering, mouthwatering scent.
Shit. Darr dragged a hand through his hair and stood, falling into a rapid pace. She’s in love with me. How the hell had he managed that? And, more importantly, would she still when she learned he’d been lying all these years?
A growl ripped from him and he threw a fist into the nearest wall, needing to release at least a sliver of the confused energy swirling inside him. He needed to go find her, to finish this conversation. To tell her the truth. His lie no longer mattered. Not for anything other than to keep himself close to her.
Darr stopped, staring at but not really seeing her open bedroom door. He finally understood the real reason he hadn’t opened up to her earlier. And as nice as that feeling was, it also brought with it a rather significant problem.
Shoving aside the prickle of fear tickling his heart, Darr strode from the room and skipped the stairs. She was probably in the kitchen, all the lights on so he couldn’t sneak up on her, searching for something to turn into a muffin. That was what she did when she was flustered and didn’t feel like she could talk it out.
The clatter of the muffin tin landing gracelessly on the stove top greeted his ears as he stepped out at the edge of the kitchen. Her back was to him and her counter was full of half the contents of the refrigerator. It was either going to be a mess of a muffin or she wasn’t satisfied yet. He hoped there wouldn’t wind up being any muffins at all.
“Izzy.”
She stilled, though he knew she knew he was there. “It’s okay,” she finally said, stepping back with another handful of items balanced precariously over one arm. “I’m fine. You don’t have to say anything.”
“Lying’s a sin you know,” Darr teased as stepped into the kitchen.
Izzy scoffed and deposited her latest armload, closing the refrigerator door in the process. “It’s one of those ‘make it true’ things. Takes time.”
“Those do.” He caught her wrist when she moved too close, stilling her movements and jarring her attention to him. “We should talk.”
Her eyes shone with unshed tears and she pulled her arm from his loose grasp. “We really don’t have to.” She wasn’t even trying to hide her fear. She opened her mouth to add more, but Darr moved first, catching her face between his palms and covering her lips with his. He needed her to listen and, most of all, he needed her to not cry.
Izzy melted into his mouth, her hands grabbing tight to his forearms with a moan.
He pulled back before he could forget himself. “Living room, please.”
She nodded weakly and they moved to the sofa, her unpacked refrigerator ingredients forgotten. When they sat, Darr made sure to angle himself to face her, holding one of her hands in his.
“I screwed it all up, didn’t I?” Her question was soft. Fragile.
He gave her hand a squeeze. “No, Izzy. But I may have.”
Izzy frowned and looked up at him again. “But I’m the one who—”
“I’ve been lying to you.” There was no delicate way to say it. Or, more accurately, he didn’t know
one. But his declaration did seem to catch her attention because her mouth snapped shut and her eyes went wide.
“You’ve…? About what?”
Darr pulled in a breath, doing his best to ignore the unfamiliar nerves twisting his stomach. Would that kiss he’d just stolen be their last? Should he wait another few decades before coming clean? No. He wasn’t a coward and he couldn’t do that to her, not knowing how she felt. “We’re not bound.”
Izzy reeled back, her hand jerking from his, and she exclaimed, “Don’t be an ass, Darr. I’m capable of handling my own shit, okay?”
He couldn’t quite stop the grin that twitched at his lips. “Careful, Izzy. Beautiful women shouldn’t talk like demons even if they grew up with one.”
Her eyes narrowed and he swore her hair got redder for an instant. “I’m serious! Just because you found out I want to set you free doesn’t mean you can laugh at me!”
Swallowing the rest of his amusement, Darr slowly shook his head. “You misunderstand. You’ve already set me free, Izzy. In so many ways.”
She slumped against the arm of the sofa and gave him a skeptical look. “I haven’t been able to do anything.”
“It started with your father,” Darr explained. “He opened a portal into Hell right when I had finally escaped my master. But I was weak from a century of servitude and at a severe disadvantage, so I leapt into the portal and landed in your father’s office.”
Izzy’s skepticism seemed to fade, falling away in favor of cautious curiosity. She said nothing as he spoke.
“It didn’t take long to figure out he thought he’d summoned me specifically to protect you. Thought he’d placed me in a Life Bond. But in truth all he did was open a doorway for my escape.”
She opened her mouth, stuttered something, and snapped it shut. With a shake of her head she finally said, “You’re serious? But … then why stay?”
“Because a Life Bond was a perfect ‘out’,” Darr replied. He leaned forward and recaptured her hand in his. “Even if Creed found me, he couldn’t take me back. I’d be useless to him. And Creed’s not patient enough to wait an entire human lifespan. All I had to do was keep you alive for as long as possible.”
Tears were shining in her eyes again. But so was hope. “So you don’t hate me?” The question was fearful, hesitant, and heart-wrenching.
Darr growled and pulled her to him, kissing her thoroughly. He kept both hands tangled in her beautiful hair and devoured her lips. He sucked and stroked on her tongue, sweeping his tongue into her mouth in an erotic rhythm until Izzy was moaning and squirming against him. Until he could smell her desire wafting from her.
When he released her lips, allowing her to breathe, Darr rasped, “I’m sorry for lying to you, Izzy. I had no idea you were so upset about it.” He paused so that she would feel the sincerity of his words before tilting her chin up to him again. With his nose brushing hers and her eyes locked onto his he added, “And I love you, too.”
****
Izzy could barely breathe, her heart thrumming so loud in her chest Darr could’ve heard it even without his demonic hearing. None of that mattered. This whole situation was better than she could have—or ever had—dreamed. There was no bind. If she died, he didn’t have to. That was almost better news than what he’d said next.
Her day would’ve been perfect if that was how it had ended.
After his quiet, thick confession, Izzy had launched herself at him. She’d managed to tackle him to the couch and she had every intention of pleasuring him until he couldn’t tolerate it any longer.
That was when the most unexpected voice destroyed the moment.
“I knew it.” The words were Zahk’s, but his tone was different than what Izzy was used to. No levity, no smugness, no boredom. This tone was just cold.
“Zahk?” Darr questioned as he stood, facing his old friend and keeping Izzy half behind him.
Ice trickled down Izzy’s spine and she swallowed her reflexive question. Something told her it really didn’t matter why he’d neglected to knock on the front door. In fact, her instincts were screaming that his presence was bad. Very, very bad. “Darr…”
“Looks like your lover’s catching on, D,” Zahk said in that same cold voice. It was all wrong for his words.
“What are you doing here, Zahk? You know you can’t just pop in.” His words were typical, but Izzy heard the hesitation in his voice. He’d noticed something off, too.
Something flickered in Zahk’s eyes, something like emotion, but it was gone just as fast. “I’d ask you to forgive me,” he started as another shadow swirled beside him. “But you won’t be alive to do it.” Jerking his chin toward Izzy, Zahk added, “Neither will your bitch.”
The shadows solidified and settled, revealing Creed in all his nightmarish glory. In better lighting Izzy could finally see that Creed was clearly a demon who reveled in his power. He even had pointy teeth and glowing, red eyes over pale, almost gray, skin. It was no wonder he stuck to the shadows.
“Good evening, Darr,” Creed greeted with a sickly smile. “It’s good news that you’re not really bound. That means she doesn’t have to die first.”
Izzy swallowed and Darr stepped fully in front of her. “You betrayed me,” he said. She couldn’t see his face, but she was sure the words were for Zahk. And if she felt sick to her stomach over this turn of events she could only imagine how hard it was on Darr.
“No,” Zahk replied. “I was never with you.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll surrender?” Creed offered. Izzy caught a glimpse of an extended arm and figured he was gesturing largely. At Darr’s silence he added darkly, “If, perhaps, only for her survival?”
Cold dread shot through her so fast Izzy didn’t realize she’d found her feet. “Not a chance!”
Darr’s hand landed on her shoulder, holding her back before she could do anything dumb. Or, well, dumber. Still, when Darr spoke, his words weren’t for her. “You heard the lady.”
All hell broke loose after that.
Creed and Zahk lunged in sync and the air in the room thickened so badly Izzy could hardly breathe. A dark energy blast erupted in the middle of the room, two on one, and Izzy went flying backward. She heard Darr grunt from what sounded like a heavy impact only moments before she herself crashed into a sturdy wall. Pain exploded in a blinding flash behind her eyes and she sagged to the ground, barely aware.
Something that sounded like an angry roar filled the air, reverberating in her ears, but Izzy could only barely keep her eyes open. Figures were blurry and she had a building coppery taste in her mouth. Like blood…
Suddenly blackness swallowed what little vision she had, but her limited awareness remained and she knew she wasn’t unconscious. Even when she registered arms around her and solid ground under her feet, the blackness was slow to recede. And she could hear something. It sounded insistent, but she couldn’t quite make it out.
Familiar ashen eyes drew her attention. Ashen eyes above a taut mouth and a strong, stubbly jaw. Darr…?
Images of Zahk popped up, scattered, in her mind’s eye. Seeing him at the lake with Darr. Meeting him as a teenager. Freaking out the first time he appeared in her house unannounced. His refusal to help Darr in the last confrontation with Creed. Traitor.
“—un!” It sounded like Darr, but she still wasn’t sure what he was saying.
She groaned his name, trying to fight past her raging headache and concentrate. Darr’s voice sounded urgent. Urgent like she’d never known.
“—mit, Izzy, run!” He finished the command with an inelegant shove, trying to jump-start her run even as he turned and sprinted off after another demon. Creed.
He was still fighting Zahk and Creed. All on his own. And he expected her to run?
Pushing herself up on her wobbly legs, Izzy hesitated. She already had what she assumed was a serious head injury given her present state. What good would she really be in a fight against two demons? None. She would only be in the way
. A liability.
“If I ever tell you to run,” Darr said seriously, crouched before her to look her in the eyes. She loved his eyes. They were strong and honest; reliable. Like him. “Then run. Run as fast as you can until you can get somewhere safe. Find help if you’re able.”
The memory faded on that last word, but Izzy had heard enough. He’d given her that instruction when she was but fourteen years old. Apparently it was still a good lesson to keep in mind. So she turned and ran deep into the forested area behind her house, ever grateful for having chosen to live on the outskirts of town.
She ran until she could only barely hear the reverberating explosions. And then it was time to get help. She could only think of one kind of help worth searching for and, as odd as it felt, she figured if it was going to work she’d need to give it her all.
Izzy hit her knees, clasped her hands, and closed her eyes in prayer. Not that she’d seen a single day in church since her mother’s funeral. But all she had to do was think, right? “Please, if you’re out there… Kai, I need your help. Darr needs your help. You said you wanted Creed. I know where he is.”
She had just long enough to think that she really hoped she hadn’t just made a huge mistake when the wind shifted.
“Praying, are we?”
Izzy’s mouth went dry. That wasn’t the voice of the angel she’d briefly met.
****
Darr wiped a trail of blood from his lips and kept his eye on his enemy. Zahk had fled around the time he’d told Izzy to run. Leaving just him and Creed. His former master. The face—the voice—of most of his nightmares. The problem with Creed wasn’t his fondness for slaves. It was his power. Creed was rumored to share the blood of an old and powerful demon, one of Satan’s closest subordinates. Which meant he had power and poison to spare.
“What’s the matter, slave?” Creed taunted with a battle crazed smirk. “Give up so soon?”
“Never,” Darr swore, shoving to his feet. Creed had him outclassed, but the bastard didn’t have his motivation. If Darr fell there would be no one to protect Izzy.
