Guardian Unraveled_Fallen Guardians

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  And judging by his confident swagger, he had no idea that she knew who or what he was, but her refusal certainly piqued his interest. “Yes you can, however, this way I get to talk to a pretty girl.”

  Smooth. He probably had women falling over themselves when he worked the charm. She needed to get him outside, but she’d ruined that with playing hard to get—damn! It was just habit and wariness. If Dagan knew, he’d be pissed.

  Get him out of the club, now! Dagan’s terse telepathic message held a cold bite.

  Crap. Can’t. Need a few more minutes.

  She drank more of her liquor. The guy seated next to her suddenly rose and left. Luka had to be using mind control. Before he tried that shit on her, thinking fast, she gulped down the rest of her drink. “Wow, needed that.”

  “Tough day?” he enquired politely as if he weren’t an evil asshole who hurt women.

  Shae scrunched her nose and said with a rueful smile, “The worst.” Pretending to be tipsier than she actually was, she angled her head at him. “What’s your name?”

  A satisfied smile stretched his mouth. “I’m Luka.” He clicked his fingers, nodded, and another margarita appeared. “And you are?”

  She picked up the frosty glass and slowly licked the salty rim. “Shae.”

  “Ah, beauteous, just like you.” Dark, lust-filled eyes barely lingered on her damaged cheek but stayed on her mouth for a bit before they roamed down her body, undressing her in their descent. “Want to talk about this bad day?”

  Right, as if he were really interested.

  He stroked a finger along her forearm resting on the counter. Her first instinct was to snatch her hand away. Instead, she leaned forward, giving him an eyeful of her cleavage. “There’s this asshole at work who comes on to me every day, and he’s here tonight.”

  “Good thing I’m here, then.” His fingers drifted to her hair and down her shoulders, his power like sharp pinpricks against her skin, stronger now. His irises took on a creepy, reddish glow.

  Hurriedly, Shae blocked him before he did his mumbo-jumbo on her. “Whew! I’m hot.” She brushed the wavy strands away from her face.

  His eyes narrowed, he didn’t respond. In a flash, he cupped her neck with one hand and kissed her.

  Shae froze. He swept his rough tongue over her lower lip before pulling back. Bile rushed up her throat in revulsion.

  Fuuuck! That she didn’t expect.

  He smiled. And then she knew. Bastard! He’d been testing her, checking if her abilities had obstructed his mind control. Christ, she longed to scrub her mouth and smash her fist into his face.

  “You wanna get out here?” he drawled.

  She nodded, smiling happily. Gah!

  “Come on, human,” he murmured. Secure in the knowledge that her mind was his, he let his true nature free. Asshole.

  Shae stumbled off the stool. He slung an arm around her shoulders and gave a slight incline of his head. “I have something you’re really going to enjoy.” He licked her ear. Her fists clenched. “My cock. Then I’ll gift your blood to my two minions. See, I promised them payment for a job they did. And, little psychic, you’re perfect.”

  That’s what he thought.

  Shae gritted back a retort. God knew how many other innocent women had fallen into their trap and died. But this bastard allegedly knew where her mother was. So she clamped her teeth down, bore his touch, and couldn’t wait until they got outside.

  He led her through the congested nightclub and down a dim passage. Moments later, she stepped into the cooler night and furtively cast her gaze around for Dagan but couldn’t sense him. Except for his curt order earlier, there had been radio silence from his end. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

  In a fast trot, Luka steered her into a stinky backstreet where he cornered her against the wall. “Come on, beauty, let me get a taste of you before I see what you have hidden beneath that dress.”

  “Wait, wait.” She turned her head, avoiding his mouth. Thinking fast, she said, “Let’s go to your place—”

  “No, here.” He slipped his hands to her thighs. Shit. About to summon her obsidian dagger, suddenly, Luka was hauled away from her and rammed into the wall.

  “What the fuck? I said after I’m done with her!” Luka spat then cursed. “Dammit, not you fuckers.”

  Relief surged through her when she laid eyes on Dagan’s tall form.

  “What are you up to, demon?” he asked coolly as if he’d just stumbled into them. No sign whether he’d seen Luka touching her.

  “Just having some fun.”

  “Right.” Cold, yellow eyes flickered dispassionately to where she stood a few feet away. “You here of your own free will, human?”

  What the—? Shae scowled, wanting to hit him at the tag. “Yes,” she shot back.

  A nerve jumped on his jaw.

  “You heard her, now get lost,” Luka drawled, brave once again.

  In response, Dagan grabbed the demon by his shirtfront.

  “What the hell?” Luka snapped. “Why are you all over me? I just wanted some action with this hot piece. I don’t know why you’re harassing me. I’m not breaking any laws.”

  “Would you give us some space, Shae?” He cut her a cool look. “I don’t want to get blood on your little dress.”

  Little? Uh-oh. Uneasy, she stepped back. He was pissed as hell.

  “I haven’t done anything,” Luka protested, struggling to free himself from Dagan’s grip.

  “Haven’t you now?” Dagan asked, tone dangerously pleasant. “We can do this the easy way. Or the hard… I’m really hoping you’ll choose the latter. Tell me about the female, Jenna. Where is she?”

  “I don’t know what—” Luka’s dark gaze flashed to Shae and glowed red in understanding. “You fucking whore—”

  Dagan punched him in the face. Bones crunched. Blood flowed. “Never speak to my mate that way again.”

  Luka roared, clutching his nose. A wave of his hand, and his face healed. A flash of metal reflected in the moonlight. He leaped at Dagan, who didn’t even attempt to evade the attack.

  Nooo! Shae darted to him.

  “Don’t.” He flung out his hand, stopping her, jaw tight as Luka slashed at him. She bounced against the invisible barrier that had sprung up between them.

  Dagan trapped Luka with invisible restraints against the wall. The demon squirmed, scratching at his throat with one hand, trying to break free of the psychic hold, his skin taking on a red, leathery appearance, before morphing back to the frat boy. His eyes bulged from their sockets as if he were choking. He rasped, “You don’t know whom you’re dealing with.”

  “And you, it seems, want to learn the many ways I can make you scream without touching you.”

  The dagger in Luka’s hand rose and pressed against his neck. Slowly, it started digging into his flesh. A raucous growl erupted as blood seeped from the hole.

  “Where. Is. Jenna. Ion?”

  “Fuck off.”

  The blade sank deeper. A cry rattled out of the demon as if his larynx were damaged.

  “You don’t talk, you’ll kill yourself.”

  More blood spurted from his deepening wound. Perhaps finally realizing just how precarious his situation was and whom he was dealing with, Luka choked out, “Let me go, and I’ll tell you where she is.”

  Dagan folded his arms and waited. Shae was aware that he could simply kill the demon and get his last memories off the blade he held, so why was he torturing him?

  “She’s in a warehouse in the Bronx. You won’t get in, she’s heavily guarded.”

  “Address?”

  After some stuttering and gurgles, and with the blade pushing deeper, the demon gasped out the answer. And the dagger sliced him clean across the carotid. Blood gushed. He slumped to the ground. Seconds later, his body shimmered and crumpled into ash before vanishing. Not even a spot of blood remained. The blade on the ground melted into a lump of steel, and with a wave of his hand, Dagan flung it int
o a nearby dumpster.

  Shae stood there, frozen to the spot. She knew he was lethal, but to see him kill so coldly and without any bodily contact shocked her. “Why?”

  He cut her a flat look. A tick pulsed hard on his jaw. “He and the rest of those assholes have had your mother imprisoned for six months.”

  They did. God. She rubbed her cheek, unable to bear the thought. “Wait, there were two other demons with him.”

  “Both dead.” At the chilly tone behind her, Shae wheeled around. Hedori stood a foot back, his expression scarier than Dagan’s icy one.

  “I’ll be back,” Dagan told Hedori, grasping her hand. “I’ll see Shae to the castle.”

  Uneasiness twisting her stomach, she shut her eyes and held on tight as he dematerialized them. They took form again at the castle portico. He ushered her into the brightly lit foyer and, without a word, turned to leave.

  “Wait.” She grasped his arm. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers. “I’m coming with you, I want to be there when you find her.”

  “Don’t push me, Shae,” he said in a dangerously low tone. “Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

  “What? You’ll lock me up in the basement again?”

  “Are you really going to start an argument you won’t win while your mother’s held captive?” His bright eyes burned with suppressed anger. “The deal when I agreed to that asinine plan of yours was that once we got the address, you’d let me handle the rest—”

  “Asinine?” she retorted. “We got a location, didn’t we?”

  “I could have gotten it regardless—and with less fuss. I only agreed so you wouldn’t insist on going with me to find your mother.”

  “Damn you, Dagan,” she bit out in frustration. Why had she thought she could change his mind? The man was like a damn rock.

  Those cold eyes held hers. “I’m already damned, Shae. Don’t you know that? And very easily since you are my mate. Your part’s done. You will keep your promise and remain behind.”

  Then he vanished.

  Chapter 20

  Dagan took form in a derelict backstreet in the Bronx near a looming building. A dog barked in the distance, the sound cutting eerily through the far too quiet area. The brackish odor of the East River drifted to him, merging with the reek of piss and other nasty things stung his nose.

  It took several moments before he managed to get his mind focused on the job.

  “The building’s guarded and warded,” Hedori said, detaching from the shadows nearby while he remained hidden in gloom.

  Still silent, Dagan scanned the warehouse situated near the river. Several figures roamed inside. Demons or humans, he wasn’t sure—didn’t care. They’d all pay, except he couldn’t kill the human fuckers.

  “But I can,” Hedori muttered as if reading his thoughts. “I will end those responsible for this crime, human or not. I’m not bound by Guardian law.”

  Perfect.

  To conserve his psychic energy since he’d used plenty killing that asshole Luka, Dagan summoned an iron dagger. Besides, he was wired too hard and needed the fight. Letting his form blend with the shadows, he headed for the front entrance while Hedori quietly made his way to the back.

  Dagan bypassed the stacks of decaying wooden crates leaned against the grimy wall. He came up behind the first demon guard, slit his throat, then rammed the blade into the other one’s heart before a word had even left their mouths. As they crumbled to dust and vanished, Hedori reappeared, stopping at the front entrance. He immediately set about unscrambling the protection wards, then opened the door and glided inside like a shadow.

  Dagan followed. Hedori flashed in a dark glimmer. A sword appeared in his hand, and he tackled the three humans, his movements swift. Deadly. Bodies fell with thuds. They lay still on the ground, blood seeping profusely from the wounds in their chests—and fuuuck! The decadent scent of blood crowded his senses, his incisors throbbed. Hunger rose. It took all his control not to tear into those still-warm bodies.

  The other Guardians appeared at his side as if to witness his hideous nature. His teeth clenched. It was why he preferred patrolling alone.

  A ball of flame shot past him, incinerating the bodies within seconds and eliminating the temptation. He knew exactly who it was. Smaller flickers of flames still licked over Týr’s palm as his fingers fisted, shutting off the fire.

  He cut Dagan a quick glance as if in understanding.

  Jaw tight, Dagan looked away. Aethan and Blaéz nodded at him.

  “Hedori filled us in,” Aethan said then. “We’ve got your back.”

  Shit. Of course they knew.

  As they searched the massive chop-shop warehouse and its adjoining buildings that fronted as a garage, Dagan prowled between vehicles in various stages of stripping.

  He had a bad feeling about this. It was why he hadn’t wanted Shae involved in the rescue. His blood went into a slow boil when he recalled that fucking demon kissing her. Teeth clenched, he shut off the thought, or he’d lose his shit. Right here. And that wouldn’t help anyone, so he focused his attention on the only thing important—saving her mother.

  He inhaled deeply, separating the odors of metal, grease, and lube, and finally hit on one—a faint thread of sweet fruit with a hint of spice. A tingle brushed his psyche. Eyes narrowing, he trailed his palm over the length of the floor then stopped at the center, placing his hand on the grimy surface. “She was here. I feel her, but I can’t make out her thoughts. Everything’s too hazy…”

  “The basement’s empty,” Týr said, coming up the stairs.

  Frowning, Blaéz lowered opposite Dagan. Lines marred his brow, then his eyes did that eerie swirly thing when his precog kicked in. The others crowded around him. For several seconds, he remained silent. Then, “She’s below, but not in a basement...”

  No one said a word while they waited. It would be pointless since Blaéz wouldn’t hear them. He blinked, coming back to himself.

  “What do you mean she’s below but not in the basement?” Aethan asked.

  “He means the Dark Realm.” Once more, Dagan trailed his palm over the spot where he’d sensed Jenna’s essence.

  “I imagine this must be an entrance to a portal then.” Blaéz rose to his feet. “A soft spot to traverse either way.”

  “So, what are we waiting for?” Týr drawled. “Life just got fucking interesting. Going back to the place we abhor.”

  Nik snorted. “Only you would see this as fun.”

  “Killing those damn bastards? You bet ya ass.” Shooting Nik a nasty grin, Týr waved his hand. The air above the ground shimmered, and the gateway slid open in a hiss. A churning, gray smog rolled out through the dark portal. “What the—?”

  A pale-skinned demon appeared, flashes of lightning shooting out of him, sending the Guardians flying back. One streak slammed Dagan in the chest, knocking him several feet away. His teeth ground down, impossible pain zipping through his body; so sure his lungs were bashed out of his ribcage. Fury igniting his adrenaline, he jumped the scourge and pounded him in the face. The demon stumbled back and didn’t attack, his red-rimmed eyes staring blankly at Dagan. Only then did he become aware that Blaéz held the fucker immobile with his mind.

  “Much as you want to hammer him into a pulp”—the Celt grimaced, rubbing his chest, his tee sporting a charred hole—“you’re gonna need the motherfucker. Seems he was guarding the entryway into this world.”

  Whoever was behind Jenna’s abduction would have his bases covered.

  Dagan grabbed the scourge by his shirt and hauled him back toward the shimmering gateway, throwing over his shoulder, “You all should remain here. If things turn ugly—”

  “I’ve been on this from the onset.” Hedori strode past and stepped through the portal. Dagan grunted, shoving the demon forward. “Okay, then, guess I’m having company.”

  “I’ll tag along, too. You’ll need me,” Aethan said. “Týr, Nik, and Blaéz can keep watch up here.”


  The others nodded. Yeah, someone had to be in this realm if trouble appeared and shit started flying.

  As Dagan stepped through the portal, impossible heat surrounded him, along with an acrid, moldy odor. A trace of sulfur stung his nose. The sky appeared an endless, deepening gray. It had to be another level of the Dark Realm. Which part, Dagan had no idea, or cared. He’d get Jenna and leave.

  He hauled the demon up to his toes. “Take us to the holding cells where you have the human female, and we’ll make sure death comes quick. If not, you will have eternity to wish you’d made the right decision.”

  “Fuck you!” The demon yanked free.

  “Guess they all speak the same language,” Aethan muttered, grabbing the demon before he flashed. Whatever he did next, the demon lit up like a bulb, his tortured screams echoing in the dark. Blood streamed out of his eyes and nose. Voice lost, he fell to his knees and doubled over, pointing a quivering finger to his left. “M-must flash to-to get there. C-can’t now...”

  “And you’re wasting my time,” Aethan snapped in annoyance and held out his hand. As he healed the demon, Dagan took in the vast emptiness. The desolate place reminded him too much of his time in Tartarus. The sounds of whimpering faded. The healed demon lurched to his feet and eyed them cautiously.

  “Just so you know,” Dagan said, his tone as flat as the vast plains surrounding them, “you try to escape, even in molecular form, and will find and kill you.”

  The demon’s mouth thinned, his eyes glowed red, but he remained silent. His body shimmered into a dark cloud and dissipated into the air.

  Dagan dematerialized and followed him. Several seconds later, they took form. The sky in this place appeared a deep purple-gray. Dense, black clouds hung low. A hot wind blew around them. Sweat beaded on his brow and dripped down his back.

  He scanned the structure built between the looming trees with leaves dark and impenetrable. It appeared as if soot covered everything. Pushing away a branch blocking his view, Dagan studied the building. Something about the place had all his alarm bells ringing. Nothing in the hellhole gave off a natural vibe. Everything appeared demon-made or spell-formed. The damn incantations used scoured his psyche like a steel brush.