Transcending Darkness

by Airicka Phoenix

  His fingers brushed the underside of her chin as he fastened the strap.

  “Hold still.” The clip locked with a soft click. “There.”

  He turned away and tugged on his own black helmet. The lights overhead skated across the plastic flap fixed to the top. A face guard, she thought, watching as he did his own chin strap.

  “What is this?” she demanded, no longer believing this was some weird sex dungeon.

  A heavy bit of plastic and metal was dropped into her hands. A gun. She would have dropped it, except it looked nothing like a real gun. For one, it was too thick and the screws were fake. For another, there were lights inside and they were flashing different colors.

  “Laser tag,” he said, now that she no longer believed he was dragging her off to get gagged and flogged. “Not nearly as exciting as a sex dungeon, mind you, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it all the same.”

  Juliette gaped. “Laser tag?” She looked down at the gun before fixing him with her annoyance. “You had me believing…”

  “That I was going to strip you naked and put you over my knee?” He smirked. “I still might, but you’ll have to ask very nicely.”

  Her face exploded with colors. “Ass!”

  “Don’t be like that, my pervy little lamb.” He took hold of her chin and lifted her face up for a hard kiss. “If it means that much to you, I’ll build you your own playroom and we’ll do whatever you like.”

  The thought was tempting.

  “I’m not very good with surprises,” she admitted a bit sheepishly.

  One eyebrow lifted in mock disbelief. “You don’t say. I could hardly tell.”

  She swatted at him. Laughing, he captured her hand and tugged her down the hall.

  The bend opened to yet another door that led to an enormous arena made up entirely of foam walls, ramps, nets, pipes, mirrors and tiny crawl spaces. The overhead strobe lights swung in time to the heavy techno beat pounding through the chamber in a flurry of pink, blue and yellow. Everything was painted black with streaks of yellow. Even the floor had yellow arrows guiding people around the obstacles. But they were the only ones there.

  “Have you done this before?” she asked, loud enough to be heard over the bass.

  Killian shook his head, his face actually flushed with excitement. “I’ve always wanted to though.”

  It was hard to believe when faced with a man who ran an entire empire, a man who was always so confident and powerful, that he might actually still have a fun side. Unlike her, he’d never had a chance at childhood. Not a real one. Had he even had any friends other than Maraveet? She wondered with a touch of sadness. But she shook it away and forced herself to grin.

  “Well, you’re in trouble then, because I have.” Skirt in one hand, gun in the other, she started for the opening. “Be prepared to lose, McClary.”

  In the end, she wound up ripping her own skirt while trying to roll out of a crouch and catching the hem under her foot. The score was two-three and she had no idea what she’d done to her heels. She vaguely recalled getting fed up and tossing them somewhere. But in the scheme of winning, they mattered little.

  It was their last game. Juliette was up by one point. She’d lost sight of Killian somewhere by the foam pillars. Her plan had been to retreat before he recovered, circle around, and come up behind him, but so far, she’d lost sight of him and the clock was running out.

  Against the stiff material of her light-up vest, her heart thundered with adrenaline and a tinge of fear that came with getting caught. Sweat slickened her grip on the gun. She tightened her fingers and edged closer to the end of the makeshift wall. The rubber material felt cold against her back as she pressed up against it and counted her breaths. Carefully, she slide forward and peered around the corner. A jungle of tangled ropes hung ahead, blocking her path to the tunnels on the other side. It was the perfect place to hide.

  Holding the air in her lungs, she took a step forward.

  “Not so fast.” One toned forearm closed across her chest and yanked her back into a solid chest, eliciting a squeak from her. “Now you’re mine, little lamb.”

  Heart going wild, Juliette laughed. “How did you get behind me?”

  His lips grazed her ear. “You’re not the only one who knows how to circle around.”

  “I was so close.” She turned to face him. “One more game to break the tie?”

  A streak of blue light shot across his face, illuminating his eyes. “Not tonight. It’s late.”

  Juliette pouted. “But I was winning!”

  He frowned and tugged lightly on a strand of hair that had escaped the helmet. “I think a tie means we were both winning.”

  “But I would have won,” she clarified.

  “Only because my injuries still hurt.”

  Juliette immediately stiffened. “Are you all right? You didn’t rip the stitches, did you?”

  “I’m only teasing, love.” He took her hand. “Come.” He led her towards the red sign marked EXIT. “Where are you shoes?”

  She glanced down at her bare feet, then back at the obstacle course they were leaving behind.

  “Not sure,” she answered honestly. “In there somewhere.”

  Killian sighed. “Such an odd woman.”

  They reached the hallway and their helmets and guns were returned to the little shelves built into the wall. Their vests were hooked just underneath the cubicles and they pushed through the hidden door into the first room.

  “I had fun,” she said as Killian threw on his blazer and shoved his tie into his pocket.

  He smiled. “Even if it wasn’t the sex dungeon you had your heart set on?”

  She elbowed him. “It was better.”

  In the foyer, he bent at the waist and easily swung her up into his arms.

  “Can’t having you walking on sharp rocks, now can we?” he said when she shot him a curious glance.

  Frank stood by the SUV, holding the door open when they ducked out into the frigid night. Juliette hissed as the wintery air clawed at her sweat kissed skin. Killian pulled her closer to him, but it wasn’t enough to save her from the cold. Hurriedly, he set her into the backseat and joined her in the warm cabin. Frank shut the door.

  Juliette tugged her coat on, her teeth chattering. Her fingers trembled, but she managed to zip the material up to her chin. Killian wrapped an arm around her and dragged her into his side where she nuzzled her cold nose into the curve of his neck.

  She must have dozed off, though she had no recollection of it, because when she opened her eyes again, they were rolling to a stop up the driveway of her house. The lights were all off, but she knew Javier or Laurence, or both would be at the window, watching.

  She turned to the man still holding her, bemused.

  He smiled gently. “Come on.”

  Groggy, she let herself get helped out of the car and up the stairs to her front porch. Frank followed with her purse and the garment bag with her original clothes. She took both and thanked him. He bowed his head before returning to the car, leaving her alone with Killian.

  “Are we not going to your place tonight?” she asked, her voice hoarse with sleep.

  Killian shook his head. “Not tonight. Tonight, I’m going to walk you to your door and kiss you goodnight.”

  Juliette frowned. “Why?”

  He framed her chilled face between his warm palms. “Because tonight wasn’t about getting you in bed.” Then he kissed her, slow and gentle. It was barely a minute long, but they were both breathless. “Goodnight, Juliette.”

  Heart a wild bird beating against the cage of her ribs, Juliette swallowed weakly. “Night, Killian. Thank you for tonight.”

  She stepped back when he released her. Her fingers were unsteady when she reached for the doorknob. He was still standing there when she let herself inside. She gave him one final glance as he stood out there in the predawn, looking beautiful and rumpled before shutting the door.”

  Chapter 19

  “All
the arrangements have been made, sir.”

  Frank set the pages down on Killian’s desk. Flight departures, hotel locations, and a clear map of all the places they would visit during their European getaway.

  “Has Juliette seen these?”

  Frank shook his head. “No sir. I only just received the final confirmation.”

  Killian held out the pages. “Have Juliette go over them when she gets here in a little while. Let her know to mark down anything she’d like added or removed. Then I want her to send you an exact number of bags she will be bringing along.”

  Frank took the papers. “Yes sir.”

  “How are we doing with Viola’s school? Are they still refusing to give her the month off?”

  The hard set of Frank’s face said it before his mouth could answer. “Due to the state of her grades and the number of absences she’s already accumulated, they think it would be unwise to give her the time off.”

  Killian sighed. “And Juliette refuses to leave without the girl. Tell them we will hire a tutor to come along with us and that we are willing to make a generous donation—”

  Frank straightened, his attention no longer on Killian. One meaty hand had lifted to his ear, the other was lifted to his mouth. His thick brows had drawn together low over his eyes that were staring straight through Killian.

  “Secure the gates!” he barked into the bit of plastic poking through the cuff of his sleeve. “Stay at your posts.” He turned his dark gaze down towards Killian. “There has been an incident, sir. Please remain in your office.”

  With that, he turned on his heels and marched from the room, pausing only long enough to shut the doors behind him.

  Killian watched him with one hand inching towards the drawer on his right, the one now heavy with his father’s Desert Eagle, .357mag. It was loaded. He’d made sure of that the moment he’d retrieved it from the gun vault. He’d even started carrying it with him, something he’d always prayed he’d never have to do. But after Smith’s attack, it had almost become a necessity. It had also become a task keeping it concealed from Juliette. The last thing he wanted was to further concern her. Lord knew she worried enough.

  “Your men are absolutely hopeless, I hope you are aware.”

  Reflexes had the gun in his hand in the time it took to suck in a breath. The hammer cocked beneath his thumb even as his arm shot out, directing the barrel straight for the figure throwing open his office doors and stalking in like she owned the place.

  His arm wavered once before dropping.

  “Maraveet?”

  Beautiful with hair the color of fire and eyes the enormous green of a jungle cat’s, Maraveet Árnason smirked at him from over the rim of her aviator glasses. Her small mouth turned up in one corner.

  “Hello little brother.” She sauntered deeper into his office, her knee high boots cracking with every fluid stride. “Did you miss me?”

  The gun hit the top of his desk with a loud clatter as he shot to his feet. He cleared the desk in three steps and hoisted her up into his arms. Her laugh tinkled in his ear and warmed the side of his face. Slender arms closed about his neck. She squeezed until he coughed.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” he breathed into her shoulder.

  Her feet, dangling two feet off the ground, gave a little kick, her signal for him to put her down. He did gingerly, but kept his hands on her shoulders.

  She was small, barely coming to his chest with a heart shaped face and peaches and cream complexion. Tiny freckles adorned the fine bridge of her upturned nose and scattered the smooth curves of her pinkened cheeks. A fine, white scar broke through the left eyebrow where he’d thrown a rock at her when they’d been children. His mother had been furious, but Maraveet had been the one to tell him to do it. It hadn’t been his fault she couldn’t catch.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, breaking away from her and moving back to his desk.

  Maraveet followed him. “What did you expect me to do when I hear you’d been shot? I would have been here sooner, but I ran into a spot of trouble with the Peruvian government.” She offered him a smirk. “Apparently they don’t like it when foreigners visit their museums late at night.”

  “Can you blame them?”

  She considered this a moment, shrugged. “I suppose not, but throwing a girl in jail for doing her job is a bit much, isn’t it? I had the devil of a time getting out. You wouldn’t know it by looking, but they are very well designed.”

  Her adventures no longer shocked him as it used to. There was a time when her texts would read, guess where I just was … Russian prison! And he’d just about lose his damn mind with worry. But she’d been in and out of so many that he no longer felt inclined to make the fuss.

  “At least it wasn’t the Chinese prison,” he pointed out and saw her shudder.

  “Don’t remind me.”

  Grinning to himself, he reached for his discarded weapon and gingerly set the safety back in place; it was a miracle he hadn’t fired the thing when he’d dropped it.

  “Is that the only reason you broke out of prison? Because I’d been shot?”

  Maraveet perched jean clad hips against the edge of his desk as he returned the gun to the drawer. She watched him. He could feel her penetrating stare burning holes through his clothes in search of his injuries.

  “Maybe not entirely.” She folded her arms over the soft fabric of her stretchy sweater. “What’s this rubbish I hear about you having a girlfriend?”

  There it was. The real reason for the impromptu visit. He’d known, but it was nice to hear it from the horse’s … sister’s mouth.

  “Juliette isn’t my girlfriend.” He shut the drawer and faced her. “She’s also none of your business.”

  “Is that how you want to play this?” She shot up to her feet. “Do I need to wave the history flag in your stupid face?”

  Moving to his chair, Killian dropped into it. “History won’t repeat itself, because it’s not like that. We have an agreement.”

  Green eyes narrowed in various crinkles of suspicion and doubt. “You’re lying. Your nose is doing that ridiculous wrinkling thing.”

  He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, but it was the same thing she always said when she had apparently caught him lying. He would check, but his pride was on the line.

  “It’s not wrinkling. You’re imagining things.”

  She huffed and glowered some more, like she was trying to glower the truth from him. He returned her fierce scowl with a perfectly blank one of his own.

  “All right, fine.” She straightened and averted her face. “Since I have no choice, but to believe you, I will—”

  A scuffle from the doorway put a pause on whatever rant she’d been concocting the whole way there. They both glanced to the hallway as voices rose. Killian’s initial thought was Frank. He was just preparing to intercept what could quite possibly be a bloodbath between his head of security and his security breaking sister when a voice cried out. The scuffle intensified. Something hit the wall with a heavy thud.

  “Let go of me! Killian!”

  Killian was out of his chair with speeds that sent it sailing backwards. It slammed into the wall behind his desk and twirled, forgotten as its owner stormed around the desk. Vaguely, he heard Maraveet call out to him, but his head was already thriving with all the noise of his purpose propelling him forward.

  In the opening, Juliette swung into view, struggling against the hands curled into the sleeve of her coat. Blonde curls bounced wildly around her pale face. She kicked and swung viciously at the man trying to pull her away.

  “Get your hands off her!”

  His warning came too late. The seam at her shoulder came undone. The fabric tore with a loud rip that added to the violent buzzing between his ears. The man’s hold slipped. Juliette hit the ground with a cry that spiked straight through the cavity of Killian’s very existence. Her head ricocheted off the plaster with a crack and she whimpered.

  Killi
an saw red. His heart roared as his blood sizzled in his veins. Knuckles popped as all ten fingers closed into two balls of violence. He closed the distance and swung. The blow burst against the man’s mouth, breaking skin and snapping his head back. He flew off his feet and crashed into the wall where he slumped to the ground in a daze.

  “You ever put your fucking hands on her again, I’ll make sure you leave without them!”

  Leaving him there, Killian hurried to where Juliette was struggling to sit up. Her big, brown eyes met his, brimming with a terror that seared through him. It brought him to his knees next to her and was immediately caught in the strangling circle of her arms.

  “Killian…” her voice broke against his shoulder.

  “It’s all right,” he promised into the side of her head. “I’ve got you now.”

  Against the palms of his hands, her back shuddered. Her head shook.

  “I got here and there was smoke everywhere and strange men with guns and …” she rasped. “They wouldn’t let me see you.”

  “I’m fine.” His free hand slide beneath the heavy curtain of hair at the back of her head and gingerly stroked the lump rising there. “You need an ice pack.”

  “No.” She pulled away enough to touch the spot herself. “I’m all right.” Her eyes searched his face. “Are you okay?”

  Carefully, he eased to his feet, pulling her along with him. His gaze went to the tear in her coat before returning to her eyes.

  “My sister came to visit,” he explained, which probably made no sense to her, because she frowned.

  “The one you haven’t seen in years?”

  He nodded.

  With a hand placed gingerly on the small of her back, he led her into his office where Maraveet was watching them with an expression that suggested she was witnessing a horrible crash. There was no mistaking the disapproval etched into the tight lines bracketing her downturned lips, or the once over she gave Juliette.

  “Juliette, my sister Maraveet,” he introduced.

  Juliette offered her a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Killian’s told me so much about you.”