Sword of the Raven

by Diana Duncan

  Rowan? Finally! Delaney’s pulse stuttered in a confused tempo of dread and hope, and she fought the urge to wheel around. “Who?”

  “Your oh-so-serious ex and his delish partner.”

  Disappointment stabbed her. The only reason Zack would be here was because of her. He got his fill of the club scene doing covert assignments, and preferred upscale restaurants that afforded intimate conversation and un-mobbed dance space. “That was quick. Wonder who tattled?”

  “Ha, you know our boys in blasphemously expensive undercover Vice clothing, they have snitches everywhere.”

  “Our?”

  Vanessa blinked innocently. “The royal ‘our.’”

  The music ebbed into one of her favorite ballads as Zack and Jason Kim casually sauntered to their table. No coincidence. Zack had to have tipped the DJ.

  “Evening, ladies.” Zack nodded at Vanessa, extended a palm to Delaney. “May I have this dance?”

  When she hesitated, he cocked a sardonic brow. “It’s just a dance, Lanie.”

  With Zack, it was never “just” anything. Super Cop was the epitome of premeditation. But he knew exactly how to push her buttons, too. She placed her fingers in his and rose.

  Sultry hazel eyes widened, his pupils dilating. “Damn!” He cleared his throat. “If drop-dead sexy was a crime, babe…I’d be aiding and abetting.”

  Zack’s blatant admiration soothed her bruised ego. She understood Rowan had run because of his own fears. But still, the fact that the first man she’d ever made love to had bolted before the sheets even cooled off—if there’d been sheets—stung a girl’s confidence.

  Delaney let Zack lead her to the dance floor, Vanessa and Jason following. Let him tuck her hand against his shoulder, slide his other arm around her waist. There was a comfortable familiarity to being held in Zack’s arms. The term normal hit her again.

  “Your birthday is next week. Anything special planned?”

  Other than battling a demon lord, his sociopathic mistress, and their Army of Darkness? “Not really.”

  “Maybe we could go out, double with Vanessa and Jason. He’s got it bad for Van.”

  She glanced over at her friend, who was smiling up at her attentive dance partner. “Please tell me Jason’s mom doesn’t fix his lunches, complete with daily notes praising the magnificent bastion of manhood that is Chuck Norris. Or…wait…does he wear a pink corset beneath his uniform? Or perhaps cherish an eBay-purchased celebrity clipped toenail collection?”

  Zack chuckled. “Ah…no, no, and seriously grody.”

  “Van can’t handle any more whack-a-dos.”

  “Detective Kim is sickeningly well-adjusted.” Zack subtly eased her closer. “So, how about it? You choose the time and place.”

  “I…let me think about it, okay?”

  “No rush.” The song segued into another romantic ballad, and he eased her closer yet, swaying with the music. “I’m here when you’re ready.”

  She surrendered to the comforting moment, and shifted aside his leather jacket opposite his gun holster to rest her cheek against his shirt. She closed her eyes. Once upon a time, they’d been good together. She’d thought him the man of her dreams.

  How different would her life be if he’d never broken up with her? If he’d told her about the threat to Connor and herself, and they’d fought it together? She wouldn’t have been on the beach three weeks ago.

  Would never have met Rowan.

  Did she regret losing her dreamt-about life?

  Zack’s hand drifted up her spine, and his chest vibrated in a contented hum. But she hadn’t lost that future. Zack had asked for a second chance. Given back her engagement ring.

  Did she want it?

  Her skin tingled all over…prickling with hot energy. Her eyes flew open.

  And met Rowan’s blazing quicksilver gaze.

  He stood on the dance floor right behind Zack, dressed in his all-black ensemble complete with long duster. Which meant he was packing.

  His hand rode his hipbone as if he were considering drawing his gun. How long had he been standing there, watching?

  She tripped over Zack’s feet.

  “How many mojitos tonight?” Zack teased.

  She stood frozen, trying to decipher Rowan’s enigmatic expression. Was that pain swirling in his eyes, hurt darkening his features? Or anger?

  Zack stiffened. Turned. Stared at Rowan, who stared daggers back.

  Zack’s attention arrowed to Delaney, and he could hardly fail to miss the crackling tension between her and the silent Mage. His fingers inched toward his concealed shoulder holster. “Do we have a problem here?”

  “No! Um…” Her speech clumsier than her feet, she swallowed hard. “Rowan, this is Zachary Walker, my…uh…”

  “Fiancé,” Zack supplied.

  “Ex-fiancé,” Delaney corrected. “Zack, this is Rowan MacLachlan. He’s…” She swallowed again.

  My lover.

  “Delaney’s bodyguard.” Rowan stepped smoothly into the uneasy silence. “Until the circumstances that caused her brother’s health issues are resolved.” He offered his hand to Zack, more a dare than a greeting.

  “Bodyguard.” Zack rounded on her, his disbelief evident. “Lanie, you hired a bodyguard?”

  She didn’t see Rowan move, but his muscular frame was now between her and Zack. Rowan frowned. “If it’s any of your concern, which it is not, Archer hired me.”

  “I assume you have a license?” Zack glared at the big Scot. “References?”

  “I’m well-qualified to keep her safe.” A tendon ticked in Rowan’s cheek as the two men locked hands.

  The mutually hostile grip lasted an eternity, both men’s knuckles whitening.

  “Chill, guys, before your heads explode.” Vanessa, who along with Jason had stopped dancing to warily monitor the encounter, scowled at the duo. “I don’t think Archer wants to scrub testosterone splatter off his walls.”

  “Rowan…meet my best friend.” Delaney gestured at Van. “Vanessa Clare.”

  Rowan and Zack broke their impasse, and Rowan offered his hand to Vanessa. “Ms. Clare.”

  Her scowl deepening, Vanessa accepted the handshake. “Viper.”

  Rowan’s lips twitched ever so slightly, but his thoughts were still blocked to Delaney.

  She shot a silent work-with-me-here plea at Van. “And Zack’s partner, Detective Jason Kim.”

  No pissing contest erupted when Jason and Rowan shook hands, which she supposed was progress.

  When Rowan leaned close to Delaney, his invigorating scent curled through her. Rousing thoughts of his fevered kisses, his stroking hands…and making her thighs tighten.

  “Delaney, I need to be having a private word with you.”

  Zack bristled. “Anything you have to say, you can say right here.”

  Sure. Let’s talk about how fast he ripped off my panties.

  The glint of green in Rowan’s eyes told her perhaps she wasn’t shielding as effectively as he was.

  “Go home, Walker,” she warned. “Nobody speaks for me except me. And I have a lot to say to this guy.”

  She bared her teeth at Rowan and crooked her index finger in the same challenging come-hither he’d once given her. “Right this way.”

  As she spun on her heel and stalked off, she caught Van’s saucy wink accompanied by her friend’s silently mouthed, Kick his ass.

  Delaney led the way to the private elevator. Punched in her code. Rowan followed her inside, where she stabbed the button for the rooftop. Taking him to her apartment felt too much like an invasion of her personal space. In spite of the fact that forty-eight hours ago, they’d been as intimate as two people could get.

  She held her tongue while the car chugged upward, acutely aware of him close beside her, of his heat and Power. But no idea what was going on inside his head.

  The doors trundled open and they walked onto the rooftop terrace. Behind a high stone wall on the opposite side was where Archer housed his hel
icopter. Archer flew anything and everything, every chance he got. Since discovering her friend possessed actual wings—one of them broken—his obsession for piloting and parasailing had gained new significance.

  This half of the roof was Archer’s secluded garden retreat, which he generously shared with her. Lush with potted plants and bubbling fountains, and alluringly lit by hundreds of tiny white lights.

  Maintaining her silence, she wandered over to the wide, waist-high outer wall to admire illuminated windows scattered like jewels on the black velvet backdrop of the city below.

  It was Rowan’s move. He’d have to talk first.

  Behind her, he shifted. Cleared his throat. “You look…like the warrior goddess you are.”

  Butterfly wings fluttered in her stomach. Very good start. “Thank you.”

  “If you’re chilly, you can have my coat.”

  “I’m fine. It’s lovely out tonight.”

  “Delaney,” he said quietly. “I would ask you to look at me.”

  She turned, and her breath caught. Moonbeams outlined the strong planes of his masculine features, his guarded gray eyes reflecting the stars. “‘Tis an apology I’m owing you. I owe many apologies, but ‘tis too late for those.”

  “It’s not too late. I can accept your apology. Depending on how sincere it is.”

  “I must tell you… You need to know…” The raw pain in his voice staggered her. “I killed them all.”

  Bewilderment had her shaking her head. “Who?”

  “My family. ‘Tis my fault they’re dead.”

  His pain instantly became her own. “Rowan—” She reached for him, but he flinched back. She dropped her hands. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because the blame for their deaths lies solely with me. I…I thought I was in love. Once before.” His Adam’s apple jerked convulsively. “She went by the name of Paiton. She approached me to be my apprentice. I craved a soulmate, like the relationship my parents have— Had.” A pause. “Paiton was everything I wanted. Everything I needed. We became lovers, though ‘twas forbidden by Cabal law.”

  A hollow pit opened in her stomach. He’d loved and lost another woman. A woman who’d been everything to him. “You were punished for breaking this law? So you’re afraid because you and I—?”

  “Nay. I am your mentor, but you are not a Mage.” He stalked to the wall, paced in front of it. “The only punishment bestowed on me was suffering I caused. You see, Paiton was not at all what she appeared. She only wanted access to my knowledge and Powers. That was also forbidden, but I gave it to her anyway. I gave it all away. Willingly.”

  The picture grew heartrendingly clear. “Paiton used your own Powers to betray you.”

  “Aye. She spent two and a half years building my trust, learning my secrets.” He stared at the skyline, his profile etched in granite. “One night when I slept, she bound my Powers. Worse, through her connection with me, she devised a spell to bind the Powers of everyone in my bloodline. Paiton led me out to the courtyard in shackles, then called up her demon horde. She chained me to a stone wall, sodding helpless to stop them while they slaughtered my entire village. Every man, woman, and child.” He scrubbed a palm over his face. “My grandparents. Parents. My cousins.”

  Rowan’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper as he bowed his head. “She cut out my father’s heart and held it aloft like a trophy, still throbbing in her hands. And the only thing I could do was watch them all die.”

  Delaney bit the inside of her lip until she tasted blood. “Oh, God.” That was the harrowing massacre she’d seen and heard on the beach when she’d touched him. “I’m so sorry, which is…so inadequate.”

  “I don’t merit your sympathy. My family’s murder was only the beginning of the carnage. ‘Twas the catalyst to the Dark Uprising, during which thousands of Mages and Guardians were killed. On my watch.” His jaw clenched so tight she was afraid it might snap. “The year I spent chained in the desert afterward, the thirst, the pain, Paiton’s mocking taunts… The slow, torturous task of gathering enough Magic from a few precious daily allotted droplets of drinking water to eventually escape. That I deserved.”

  Anger swelled in her chest, and a planter of geraniums behind him exploded. “It was not your fault Paiton used you. Power-hungry psychopaths are impossible to stop. She would’ve found a way to make it happen. If not with you, with someone else.”

  “Aye, but I should’ve suspected. Should never have trusted her.”

  “Unless we’ve been betrayed before, we don’t go through life suspecting people who get close to us of having ulterior motives.”

  “I should have. I’m a Mage. Chieftain of Clan MacLachlan. I carry all the knowledge and ancestral memories of my lineage, have lived our entire history. And yet I failed my Clan. Failed my family.” He stabbed an index finger into his sternum. “Because I failed to recognize the Sorceress whose Gift is deception.”

  Stunned realization sent the stars into a nauseating spin. “Paiton is Ceard?”

  “You see, now?” His mouth thinned in a disgusted grimace. “I thought I was in love with Balor’s whore.”

  And the soulless bitch had really done a number on him. “I do see. You’re afraid of getting close to another woman. To me. You’re scared of having feelings for me, because you’re scared I’ll betray you too.”

  “You misunderstand. I do not fear your betrayal.”

  “Good, because I won’t. I won’t let you down, Rowan. You have my oath.”

  “You still don’t ken, do you?” Rowan pivoted to face her. “I swore an oath on my family’s graves to bring them justice. Stopping Ceard and Balor is the only thing I live for. I do not care what, or who I have to destroy.”

  His eyes narrowed to silver shards of ice. “I brought you into this fight, fully knowing the butchery they are capable of. Be warned, Delaney. If it boils down to a choice, ‘tis I who will betray you.”

  Chapter 15

  White-hot fury detonated inside Delaney. Then every pot and fountain on the rooftop exploded. Scorching wind blasted around her, blowing back her hair and whipping Rowan’s long coat. The entire garden shriveled.

  Rowan took a step back from her. Then another.

  Shaking, she clenched her fists, fighting for control. She inhaled. Counted to ten. Then twenty. The wind died. “We are so sending her back to Hell where she belongs!”

  Rowan’s gaze locked on her face, every line of his big body rigid. “Her?”

  “Paiton. Ceard, whatever.” She inhaled a trembling breath. “The vile, sadistic bitch.”

  “You are angry with her…and not me?”

  “Of course I’m not mad at you. What did you expect? That your confession would make me afraid of you? Make me run?”

  “A wise woman would.”

  She stepped toward him again. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  Although he watched her warily, this time he held his ground. “Nay. Anything but.”

  “I understand betrayal, Rowan. I understand misplaced guilt about destroying your family’s lives. Been there, done that, have the brother in a coma, remember? I’ve also been inside your head. And I understand exactly what you’re made of. Apparently, better than you do.”

  “Then you ken I speak the truth.”

  “I believe you believe it’s the truth. Let me ask you something.”

  Apprehension etched harsh grooves around his mouth. “Will saying nay stop you?”

  She firmed her chin. “If you’re the only one to blame for what happened, how come none of the other Mages—some of whom, I assume, were older and wiser than you—recognized Ceard? How is it that she was not only able to deceive the Mage she was screwing senseless, but the entire village?”

  He didn’t move. Didn’t seem to breathe for an eternity…while a hurricane raged in his eyes.

  Then he pivoted, putting his back to her.

  Delaney closed the distance between them. “You were raised to take responsibility from the moment you were b
orn. To be a leader. But a wise leader also knows he’s not infallible. Knows when to delegate. You may not be mortal, but you’re not God either. You don’t have total control. Or total responsibility.”

  She stroked his rigid back. “You offered trust, and in return, received betrayal. Offered love, and in return, received hatred.” He was the one shaking now. “Rowan. Now I would ask you to look at me.”

  A long hesitation. Movements stiff, he slowly turned. A storm of emotions leaked through his shields, swirled in his aura. Dread. Hurt. Confusion. A whisper-thin tendril of hope.

  Delaney gentled her voice. “A very wise man recently gave me valuable insight. He said what my stepfather did to me was his shame and guilt to bear. Not mine.” She rested her hand on Rowan’s chest, felt his heart lurch beneath her palm. “What Ceard did to your family was Ceard’s fault. Ceard’s responsibility. And you know I speak the truth.”

  His lips trembled as naked longing stamped his face, every defense stripped bare. “I cannot offer you what you want. What you deserve. I have no future beyond my next breath.”

  “None of us do. Nobody knows what tomorrow will bring.” She embraced his gaze with her own. Wrapped him in warm Power…and absolution. “All I want, Rowan, is right now. With you. For the time we have left.”

  His throat worked, and a low sound of anguish escaped. He grabbed her shoulders and yanked her to him. Slanted his mouth over hers.

  Wild, fevered. The taste of him intoxicated her, jolted her system with shocking pleasure. She smelled the crisp autumn breeze on him, and the salty tang of the ocean. As always when he kissed her, it was as if the world spun away…the boundaries blurred between her desperate need and his. He wrapped his arms around her so tightly she could hardly breathe, and his erection pressed into her stomach.

  Craving skin-to-skin contact, she tugged apart the lapels of his coat, pulled it down his arms. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugged out of it. He fumbled with his gun, tossed onto his discarded coat. She kept her mouth fused to his, drinking him in, as she tore open his shirt placket, scattering buttons everywhere. The garment landed in a crumpled heap on the rooftop.