Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by Colleen Gleason

  He brushed her wet hair aside, nuzzling the back of her neck right above the butterfly tattoo on her shoulder, and chuckled with satisfaction as she shivered. As his cock slid through the liquid heat of her tight channel, the pressure in his balls increased. Soft moans escaped her lips as he fondled her clit and touched the juncture where his body disappeared into hers. She cried out his name as she came, her inner muscles clenching around him, milking his release. A moment later he joined her, his hoarse groans echoing off the tile walls while molten pleasure pulsed out of him.

  When they were finished, he pulled out of her and discarded the condom. She turned to face him, slipping her arms around him and pressing her body close. Her cheeks were flushed, her wet hair hanging in thick strands around her upturned face.

  She’d never looked more beautiful.

  “That was a much better start to the morning, don’t you think?”

  “Mmmm,” he rumbled against her ear. “I agree. Much better.”

  ***

  A short time later, they sat against the headboard, legs entwined, sharing a delicious breakfast scramble that Toryn had made. She hadn’t felt much like eating, but he’d insisted.

  “Is it true that those with Talents have Cascadian blood in them?” she asked, trying to keep her mind off the fact that Becca should be here this afternoon. If she’d been telling the truth. If she wasn’t high and forgot. If Mr. Reaux let her go.

  He nodded. “While not every Cascadian has a Talent—it often skips generations—many are gifted.”

  She took a bite that he offered her and chewed it thoughtfully. “Why is it just over there? Why aren’t there more Talents over here?”

  “Have you heard of the Obsidian Wars?”

  She frowned. “It sounds vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t tell you why.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me,” he said grimly. “If a historical event isn’t passed down to subsequent generations, it’s as if it never happened.”

  “Can you tell me?”

  Toryn set the plate aside and she settled against his chest. His voice rumbled in her ear as he spoke.

  “The Obsidian Wars happened many years ago, stemming from a jealousy between brothers. Two of the brothers had Talents, one did not. Each had his own kingdom. After their father died, there was a power struggle based on jealousy and greed. The brother without a Talent coveted what he didn’t have and eventually war broke out. Finally, after many years of bloodshed, the Three Fates stepped in and divided up the worlds with portals, separating the brothers. Although that stopped the war, it didn’t stop Pacificans from trying to seek the magic of our world.”

  “Most people here believe Cascadians come through the portals to terrorize us,” she said, rubbing her hand absently over his washboard abs.

  “That is the prevailing thought, yes, but the opposite is actually the truth.”

  “So our army goes over there? For what reason?”

  A dark, brooding look crossed his face. “They are trying to find the fata-magic and want to bring it back here to use.”

  “Fata?”

  “From the Fates. The magic that resides inside many Cascadians that gives us our Talents.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “So if the magic is in you, how do they, the army, get it?”

  “They come for our children.”

  Keely’s hand stilled. “What?”

  Toryn shook his head sadly. “They take the wee ones and bring them over here in the hopes that they’ll develop a Talent that can be later exploited.”

  “And what happens to the parents in Cascadia?”

  Anger flared in his eyes and he exhaled roughly. “They kill them.”

  She felt like throwing up. Families being torn apart, people killed. “And what’s Davin Reaux’s role in all this?” She almost didn’t want to know.

  “In return for financing some of the army’s missions, he gets to keep the bounty. Precious artifacts from our abbeys and monasteries that he can sell over here on the black market for huge sums of money.”

  “Precious artifacts?”

  He nodded. “Handcrafted swords and weapons. Jewelry. Religious relics. Everything disintegrates during a portal crossing, unless it’s iron-based or encased in an iron receptacle. Those who carry these objects through usually die though.”

  Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Someone dies? Who’d sign up for that?”

  “Simple,” Toryn said. “The army doesn’t tell them. The poor young recruit who carries dense metal objects through the portal has no idea he’s going to die as soon as he gets to the other side.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The window repairs had just been completed when the bell over the shop door rang. At first Keely thought one of the workers had left something behind and was coming back to get it, but when she looked up, it was her sister walking through the door.

  “Becca!” She rushed over and tackle-hugged her.

  “Whoa,” her sister said with a laugh, extracting herself and setting her handbag—one that Keely had never seen before—on the counter. “You’d think I’ve been gone for months instead of a week.”

  Without removing her sunglasses, she waltzed into the shop, bringing with her a heavy dose of perfume as her gold strappy heels clicked on the wood floor. She wore an off-the-shoulder sheer top, skinny jeans, and gold bangle bracelets that clinked with every movement—all new.

  “I’ve been worried sick about you,” Keely breathed, leaning against the counter for support. “Thank God you’re back.”

  Becca flicked a hand in front of her face as if she were flicking away Keely’s concern. “What are you talking about? I called you and told you I was fine.”

  Keely was surprised by her sister’s haughty tone. This wasn’t like her. Becca could be bossy and impatient sometimes, just like any older sister, but she’d never sounded like this before. Keely caught a whiff of cigarette smoke and stale alcohol as she walked past. “What’s with the shades?”

  “They’re new. All this is new,” Becca said, holding out her arms in a game show hostess sort of way.

  Keely scowled. “Yeah, I noticed. And most people take off their sunglasses when they’re inside. Especially when the sun isn’t out.”

  Becca put a hand to her forehead. “Stayed up late last night partying and drinking, that’s all. I woke up with a wicked hangover and my eyes hurt.”

  Keely followed her upstairs. Becca’s thick blond hair, while looking good from the front, looked unwashed from behind.

  “Want me to turn on the shower?” she asked. In this old building, it always took a while for the hot water to kick in. “Do you need some Tylenol? I can grab you some from the medicine cabinet.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not staying long.” Becca opened her dresser and started throwing some clothes into a suitcase. “Can you grab my makeup bag while you’re in there?”

  It felt as if someone had just punched her in the stomach. Sure, Becca had told her on the phone that she was only coming by to pick up a few things, but Keely had hoped she’d changed her mind. “You’re not staying? Why? Where are you going?”

  “We’ve discussed this already.” There was that note of irritation again.

  “No, we haven’t.”

  “I told you, the other girls and I are staying out on a private yacht.”

  What the hell? “A private yacht? You told me nothing about this, Becca. This is the first I’m hearing about it.”

  “I can’t help it if you don’t listen to me when I talk. I distinctly remember telling you all about it on the phone the other day.” She let out an exasperated breath. “We’re working a big VIP event and this is part of our training. There are some very important people coming in for this, and every detail needs to be perfect.”

  “You’re staying on Mr. Reaux’s boat?” She seriously felt as if she were getting sick.

  “Jesus, Keely, it’s not a boat. It’s a private yacht. Big difference. We’ve all got our own staterooms. We’re going on a dry
run tomorrow, out to international waters.” She held up a string bikini. “Do you think I should bring this?”

  Okay, giant red flag. Massive.

  “Becca, listen to me. Heading out to international waters with a man like Mr. Reaux is just plain dangerous. You shouldn’t go back there.”

  Her sister laughed. “That’s crazy talk. You’ve never met him. He’s a very wonderful and generous man.”

  “What? Like he’s your sugar daddy now?” Keely made a sound of disgust. “That’s gross. He’s Dad’s age.”

  “I don’t need to listen to this. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Becca continued shoving things into her bag.

  Keely tried another angle. “What about the shop? I can’t run this place without you. You know that. How are we supposed to pay the rent if we’re not bringing in any money? It’s due next week.”

  “Seriously, Keely. You worry too much. Mr. Reaux is taking care of all of that for us. The rent is paid for the next few months.”

  Keely was stunned. “He’s paying the lease on Sisters?”

  “Yeah, isn’t that great of him? I told you he’s really generous. In fact, when I told him about you, he said he’d love to meet you, too.”

  Keely swallowed hard. “What for?”

  Her sister shrugged. “I don’t know, silly, but my guess is that he’d be interested in hiring you as well. He only hires Talents for certain positions and the pay is amazing.”

  Horrified that Becca had been talking to Mr. Reaux about her, Keely shook her head.

  “Well, you should let me introduce you and then maybe you’ll stop being such a spoil-sport. Listen, nothing bad’s going to happen. He’s on our side, don’t you understand? He would never do anything to hurt us.”

  Keely walked over to the window and glanced out, trying to calm her racing heart. Becca was talking as though she’d been brainwashed or just joined a cult. Could she not see what was going on?

  “Becca, take off your glasses.”

  Her sister sputtered. “Why?”

  “I want to see your eyes.”

  “So you can accuse me of being high? Oh my God, Keely! Stop being so…so judgmental.” She zipped up her bag and threw it over her shoulder. “You’re starting to sound just like Mom and Dad. And frankly, I’ve had enough of that kind of bullshit. I don’t need it from you as well.”

  “I’m not being judgmental,” Keely said. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all. Trust me, Mr. Reaux isn’t the wonderful person you think he is. He’s a bad, dangerous man, and you’re a fool to think otherwise.”

  Becca swung around to face her and lifted up her sunglasses. Her eyes were rimmed with red and the dark circles underneath were so pronounced they looked like bruises.

  “You know nothing about him,” she said through clenched teeth. “Nothing. So shut your mouth.”

  “Well, for your information, someone broke out a few windows in the shop the other day.”

  “And you think Mr. Reaux had something to do with it? Please.” Becca rolled her eyes and headed down the stairs. “Protesters, Keely. That’s what they do.”

  Or a not-so-subtle message that they needed Reaux’s protection.

  Keely debated whether or not to tell her she’d been by the club only to be chased by Reaux’s men, but in the end, she decided not to.

  “When will you be back?” she asked, following her sister down to the shop.

  “Not ‘til after the party.”

  “And you’re going to be gone for a few weeks? For God’s sake, Becca, I can’t keep the shop open without you. You know that. Why didn’t you run any of this past me first?”

  “I did,” Becca said, biting off each word. “And you were okay with it.”

  In her delusional drug-induced memory, maybe.

  Becca stepped around her and reached for the door. “You should be happy that I’m not implanting a suggestion in your mind right now that you should come work the party, because I totally could, you know.”

  The little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t. I’m just teasing.” Becca winked and then adjusted her sunglasses as she walked out the door. “I’m not that much of a bitch.”

  ***

  “Have you gone completely insane?” Konal stared at Toryn as if he’d just sprouted horns. “Rickert will have your head if you bring an outsider to an Iron Haven.”

  “What do you call Sean then? He's not an Iron Guild warrior.”

  “Sean's situation is different. I know you don't like the guy, but he has the permission of the Magistrate and the Council to be working with the Iron Guild. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, does not.”

  “I don’t do girlfriends,” Toryn bit out. Truth was, Keely was much more than that, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit it.

  Konal lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know, which is why I’m so confused right now.”

  “There’s nothing to be confused about. She’s in danger from the man we’re after and has nowhere else to go. Until it’s safe for her to go home, she’s going to be staying with me.”

  “Sounds like a girlfriend to me,” Konal muttered under his breath. “Bottom line is, you do not have permission to take her to the Iron Haven. Doing so would expose Iron Guild secrets to an unauthorized Pacifican and risk your standing with the Guild. You’ve worked too hard for that.”

  Damn the rules.

  He knew his friend was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

  “Besides,” Konal added, “if you did that, Rickert would be well within his rights to have you flogged.”

  Their leader was not into any rule-bending since he got his command back. He’d been punished and temporarily stripped of his command for bringing an unauthorized enemy soldier—Neyla—through a portal, so the guy did everything by the book now. Which was irritating.

  Toryn inwardly flinched. Even though it had been many years, he remembered exactly how the sting of the whip felt on his bare skin. At the orphanage, it was the headmaster’s favorite form of punishment. After a particularly brutal flogging, he’d run away and wound up training for the Warrior Games, a competition where young men competed in various speed, strength and endurance events for the chance to join the Iron Guild.

  “You’ve always been a rebel, Toryn, I get that. But even a rebel has to follow some of the rules or there will be hell to pay.”

  “Then I’ll take her to that old hunting cabin on the river. It’s no longer used as a rendezvous point now that the Iron Havens are operational.”

  “You’re going to take her to that shithole? Ha. Good luck with that. The last time we were there, we had to knock down a huge wasp nest inside. It was not pleasant.” Konal folded his arms over his brawny chest. “So what’s with this girl, anyway? You seem…pretty attached to her. And that’s not like you.”

  It was true that he kept himself emotionally detached from the women he slept with. And he was good at it. Never spending more than a night or two with each one.

  But with Keely, things were different. He ached to have her in his bed night after night, watching the desire in her eyes turn to molten lava as she came, holding her in his arms, talking about things that mattered and feeling like she understood him. Although the risk of betrayal weighed heavily on him, she was chipping away at his self-control.

  If he could get past his trust issues, was a future together even possible? Sure, a few of the other warriors had made it work, but could he and Keely? The truth remained that they came from two different worlds, and unlike his friends’ women, she’d grown up with personal, deep-seated beliefs that his people were barbaric assassins. Despite her assurances, their differences could ultimately tear them apart.

  “She’s going through a rough patch right now and has nowhere else to turn. I’m just helping her out, that’s all.”

  She was strong and capable on the outside, but on the inside, she was sensitive and vuln
erable. Maybe no one else saw her like that, but he sure as hell did.

  Konal sighed. “Let me talk to Rickert. I can’t make you any promises, and he’s probably going to have my head for even asking, but I’ll explain to him that you’re falling for a Pacifican girl with a Talent and that you’re concerned about her safety. That’s something the guy can relate to.”

  Toryn gritted his teeth but didn’t argue. If that’s what it would take for Rickert to agree, then so be it.

  Konal continued. “Maybe it’ll make a difference to him knowing she’s got the fata-blood. That’s got to count for something, right?”

  As Toryn drove back to New Seattle, he thought back to that conversation on the stairs when Keely told him she was falling for him.

  It would shatter her heart when—if—they parted ways. And the thought of hurting her twisted his gut into knots.

  CHAPTER 12

  “You can take it off now,” Toryn said gruffly.

  Keely reached up and removed the blindfold, a requirement set forth by the other warriors. She blinked a few times as she peered out the Jeep’s windshield. Even though it was dark outside, it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust.

  She had zero clue where they were. No one outside of the group he worked with could know the location of this place, and they obviously took that very seriously. She and Toryn had left New Seattle earlier in the day and been four-wheeling over rough terrain for the past several hours. And she’d had the blindfold on the whole time.

  The headlights illuminated part of an old building surrounded by tall fir trees, but then Toryn turned off the engine and everything went dark again.

  “Listen,” Toryn began, turning in the seat to face her. “Most everyone is fine about you being here, but there might be one in particular who…well…could be a little standoffish.”

  “Great. Thanks for warning me ahead of time so that I could change my mind.”