Absolute Surrender

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  “My nose!” the male howled.

  “Thank your deity that’s all I’m gonna break, human.” Aethan evaded another flying fist. A roundhouse kick sent the male slamming into a wall where he collapsed in a crumpled heap. Pivoting, he found the three remaining humans on Blaéz.

  Those stupid dumbasses had no idea the Celt could kill them with a single thought. Like ants, they crawled all over him, because the apathetic bastard was letting them get their licks in.

  And that was why only one idiot engaged Aethan in a fight.

  For fuck’s sake!

  Blaéz’s proclivity for being used as a punching bag rubbed him raw right then. Aethan grabbed the shorter human with longish, spiky black hair. His heart missed a beat. The hair, so like Echo’s—

  Stars exploded in his head as the ugly-ass bastard punched him in the face. That yanked his ass back into the game. Aethan shook his head clear and growled, clamping down the urge to rip the human’s head off. A fist to his temple and the bastard was out cold.

  Inhaling roughly, Aethan swung around. “Blaéz, dammit! This isn’t time for play. Send the fuckers to sleep and let’s get rid of this infestation.”

  Blaéz grunted. “Hand-to-hand combat should be fun, right?”

  “That’s not fun-fucking anything. You should be kicking their dumb asses—” Aethan dragged another human off Blaéz and pounded him into oblivion. “Instead, you stand around and let them kick yours.”

  Blaéz made short work of knocking out the last male on him. A knee in the groin, an upper-right cut, and the bastard joined his cohorts in Slumberland.

  “You want to know the sensation riding me right now?” Blaéz asked him as he straightened his leather coat. “Nothing. Same shit as before.” He glanced at his torn tee. “Another shirt ruined and we still have to clean house.”

  They headed for the closed door farther down the hallway. The stench of death grew stronger.

  “They must know we’re here. What the hell are they waiting for?”

  Blaéz fingered the rip in his shirt. “A personal invite?”

  Aethan pushed the door open with his booted foot. The tattoo on his arm hummed relentlessly. The demoniis had to be concealed somewhere, watching them.

  The small square office reeked of death. It contained a desk and a filing cabinet. And in the chair pushed against the wall was the body of a female, her terror-filled eyes wide in death. Her throat was torn, as if savaged by animals. Blood soaked her pink sweater and matted her long blonde hair.

  ‘Let’s deal with this and the four outside before we track the bastards,’ he shot to Blaéz through their mind-link.

  “We have another.”

  Aethan turned to find Blaéz peering under the desk. He strode around to him, and there under the desk, a young female, about ten, lay curled. She whimpered when she saw them, her hand clutching her ravaged throat. Tears rolled down her face.

  She cringed farther away when Blaéz reached for her, her whimper more of a gasping gurgle. “Listen, female, if you want to live, come out from under there.”

  The male had all the sensitivity of a damn rock.

  Aethan pushed him aside and stopped. He had no idea what the hell he should do, so he willed her to look at him and held out his hand. Soon enough, she placed her small bloodied one in his. Gently, he drew her out, sent her to sleep and laid her on the floor. Holding his hand over the wounds on her neck, he let the healing light flow out of him. The light tingle of her psychic power brushed against his mind. His anger fired up again at the atrocity done to this defenseless little girl. The horror she must have lived through.

  His tattoo stirred sharply against his skin.

  Glancing up, he saw Blaéz tackling two demoniis through the open door. Good to see the male didn’t play when it came to those shitheads.

  Aethan concentrated on healing the girl. Almost done. He watched as the skin slowly sealed from the inside, knitting together. He jerked forward as something pierced into his shoulder. Pain crashed through his body in waves.

  Shit! The same freaking shoulder, every fucking time! He rose and stumbled, weakness taking him over from the dark power of the cursed demonii-bolt.

  “Somethin’ wrong, Guardian?”

  He wheeled around and saw the fucker who’d nailed him.

  The demonii smirked, revealing stained fangs. “We know you have the psychic mortal. She can’t get away with killing us—I’m so going to enjoy taking her soul. Then we’ll come after you.” Another red bolt sparked in his hand.

  With preternatural speed Aethan moved, grabbed the demonii by the shirt, and gave the asshole no chance to release the bolt. His power flaring, trapped beneath his skin, Aethan punched through the demonii’s chest, pulverizing bone and flesh.

  “Don’t threaten what you can’t kill.” He seized the heart and let loose his powers. This way, Blaéz and the girl wouldn’t get caught in that deadly light.

  Red eyes widened in horror as the flame of Whitefire consumed him. The demonii disintegrated into ash seconds later.

  The other demoniis’ dusty remains lay scattered around Blaéz’s feet. Aethan pulled out his cell phone. “Damn, phone’s fried again. Call 911. I’ll deal with the dead female.”

  Aethan went over and held out his hand to obliterate her. He couldn’t leave this killing for human authorities to find.

  “It’s quite strange,” Blaéz murmured, “that they didn’t abduct these females, considering they were both psychic.”

  “This has nothing to do with the prophecy. These gluttonous fuck-heads only care for the rush consuming a psychic’s soul would give them.”

  And Echo was damn well staying put even if he had to ask Blaéz to take over her protection.

  CHAPTER 14

  Aethan arrived back at the castle in the early hours of the morning. After the incident at the Taekwondo studio, weakness was overtaking him. With his pain-in-the-ass injury fast deteriorating, he wasn’t fit to fight a damn roach.

  He stood on the portico and let the quietness, the briny air seep into him. Exhaling roughly, he scanned the perimeters of the boundary. Satisfied all was quiet, he pushed open the front door and stopped in the foyer.

  Aethan tried not to look upstairs or let his mind wander to Echo. He shrugged off his leather coat and cursed. Pain raced through his shoulder and spread to his neck. Ripping off his skin, layer by excruciating layer, would have been far better. Dizziness plagued him. Unsteady, he braced a hand against the wall, shut his eyes and inhaled a ragged breath. The acrid stench of burnt hair drifted to him.

  He pulled the strands to the front. Wonderful! Not only did the fuckers destroy another coat of his, but they’d ruined his hair too! Cursing, he cut through the kitchen and made his way to the butler’s quarters.

  Aethan left Hedori’s room ten minutes later, his hair shorter, and a little steadier on his feet.

  Echo was right, Lila’s potion tasted like shit but it counteracted the weakness from the demonii-bolts. He rolled his taut shoulder. Damn thing hurt like a bitch, but he had something else to do before he treated his wound with the potions and salves Lila left for them. The only way he’d accept the oracle’s help was if one of the others tied him down, and made the call.

  He detoured through the kitchen and found Blaéz and Týr there, chowing down on humongous roast beef sandwiches. Týr reached out for the mustard, slathered it on his bread, and added several more slices of meat, before he slapped the thing back together and took a bite.

  Blaéz looked up from his meal. “Joining us?”

  “In a moment.” Aethan raked a hand through his hair and leaned against the granite counter. He couldn’t put this off any longer.

  “There’s something I need to discuss with you. The female here—” He had to force himself to continue and speak of Echo like she didn’t matter to him. “Her name is Echo Carter and there’s a demon after her. He tried taking her through a portal few nights ago. He didn’t succeed. But he scored her arm, so he
can track her.”

  “Like a demonii-bolt,” Blaéz said, pushing his empty plate away. He picked up his squat glass, took a swallow of his scotch. The bruises on his face from the fight with the humans had faded to yellow.

  “Why does the demon want her? Is she psychic?” Týr asked, his expression cool.

  The Norse wasn’t ready to forgive him, but he understood their work always came first.

  “Yes. And no. She’s not the one we search for. She has no abilities of pyre and rime.” Aethan went over, leaned his hands on the dining table, his gaze on Týr. “That night I tracked the demonii I wounded?”

  Týr nodded, his eyes flat. “I remember. He’s dead, right?”

  “Yeah, the bastard’s dead, but I didn’t kill him. She did.”

  Týr stilled.

  Blaéz stared.

  A trace of the old humor flickered in Týr’s gaze. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

  “It’s how our paths crossed and now this.” Aethan told them what the demonii in the Taekwondo studio said.

  “So they want the female you protect?”

  “And our collect arses, it seems,” Blaéz murmured.

  “Well then, good thing she’s here, if they’re coming after her.” Týr polished off the rest of his sandwich.

  Hell, it wasn’t the only reason he brought her here. And talking about her pheromone problem to the males was not what he wanted. He had to remind himself that her safety came first.

  Now if he could just unclamp his damn jaw, he could get this over and done with. Then he’d ask Blaéz if he’d see to her protection. “There’s something else you should know. Why she’ll always be their target...her pheromones. That crap draws them to her.”

  Stunned silence filled the place as Blaéz and Týr stared at him.

  “Well now. That’s what it was.” The grin on Týr’s face had Aethan jamming his fists into his pants pockets. That way he wouldn’t be tempted to knock Týr’s teeth down his throat.

  He told them the rest. “She uses her pheromones to lure the bastards out, then she kills them.”

  “Damn, I was right. She’s a feisty one, all right.” Týr’s chair scraped back. He took his plate to the dishwasher, packed the thing in, then headed for the door. Turning, he met Aethan’s gaze. “Just so you know, she didn’t touch me—she punched me.”

  “Why?” There could only be one reason for Echo to do so.

  “Asked her for a kiss. She didn’t agree.”

  Blood blazed in his veins and shot to his head. Aethan leaped for Týr, only to find himself tethered in place, by Blaéz.

  “Get the hell off me!”

  But the Celt remained like a freakin’ oak tree. One he was quite prepared to uproot and hack up for firewood.

  “He never did share well,” Týr muttered and left.

  Aethan lunged after the disappearing bastard. He’d wipe the floor with him. His muscles strained as he tried to break free of Blaéz’s hold, but the Celt’s arms were like steel clamps around him.

  “You are your own worst enemy,” he told Aethan. “You want the female? Claim her or let her go—told you to be prepared for the consequences of the path you’ve chosen.”

  Aethan finally shoved Blaéz off him, his mind furious with resolve as he dematerialized upstairs.

  Had he really thought he could walk away from his mate and not want to kill every male who looked in her direction?

  ***

  Echo paced around the bedroom, eyes narrowing.

  Yup, definitely closing in on her. Each time she turned around the walls took another step closer.

  She glanced at her cell. Four-oh-seven a.m.

  Only a minute had passed since she last looked, like an hour ago? She rubbed her palms over her sweats, headed to the window, and stared into the darkness.

  Why did the butler insist she wait until daybreak before taking her back to the city? A cab would do just fine. She wanted to be gone before Aethan got back. How could she look at him and know everything, every look, every touch, had only been in her head.

  Stupid, stupid, Echo. She muttered for the hundredth time. As if he wanted me.

  He’d been clear right from the get-go about only keeping her backside safe. Seemed she forgot that.

  A frisson of wariness crawled over her skin. Her heart kicked up speed. He was back. Earlier than she’d expected. Her stomach knotting, she turned.

  Aethan watched her from across the room. He still wore his leathers and the black tee. His unrestrained hair skimmed his shoulders now and framed his striking face. He strode across to her.

  Faced with the intensity of his gaze, one that spelled trouble, Echo backed away. She wasn’t in the mood for a fight. She picked up her backpack from the armchair. “I’ll wait downstairs.”

  He blocked her path. The next second her backpack disappeared and landed on the armchair again. “No. You’re not leaving.”

  So the orange-eyed snitch of a butler had ratted her out. Didn’t matter. She’d walk if she had to. “You can’t stop me.”

  All she wanted was to get out of here without making more of a fool of herself.

  His eyes squeezed tight as if to keep himself under control. “Gods, Echo. Don’t make this any harder.”

  Of course, it was her fault. It pained her to admit the truth. “I’m sorry for what happened in here. I–I wasn’t thinking. It’s just the pheromones at work. Once I leave, everything will go back to normal.” She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “You won’t feel this compulsion to be with me, or the guilt afterwards because it wasn’t what you wanted. I know the signs.”

  “I don’t want your apology for asking me to stay.” His growl reverberated through the room, startling her. He dragged her to him, and clamped his arm around her waist when she tried to break free. “I want you so damn much.”

  His words pierced her heart and stopped her struggling. “What?” Her voice came out in a husky croak.

  He didn’t answer, but bent his head and kissed her on her nape. On the same spot were he’d bitten her the first time she dared him. Her body came alive, loaded with sensations at the touch of his warm lips against her skin. A tremor shook her. Her breath hitched. “Why? You–you accused me of going after your friend just a few hours ago.”

  “No.” He pulled back to look at her, a tick beating rapidly on his jaw. “I asked if you touched him. I’m sorry for that. I find I don’t deal well with jealousy. Why didn’t you tell me you punched Týr?”

  Her mouth dropped opened in shock. “You were jealous?”

  “Do us both a favor, Echo, and never test that theory,” he warned.

  “Then why did you walk away from me earlier?”

  ***

  Aethan let her go and dragged a hand through his hair, frowning at the shorter length. That question needed to be answered.

  “I’m not good for you. But no matter how much I convince myself of it, I find I can’t give you up.” He took a deep breath, hoping it would help settle him. No such luck. “This is your last chance to escape me. Free will, I’m told, is important to mortals. It’s your choice. If you choose us, Echo, I have to warn you it’s not going to be easy.”

  She would have to know the truth about him eventually but no way would he risk telling her now. “Or you take another room, and I’ll keep you safe until this threat is over and you can leave.”

  It was a wonder he didn’t shrivel up from his lies.

  “What do you mean, ‘mortals’?” she asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

  “I need your answer first.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip as she studied his face, and he damn near growled again. “So, I can choose another room?”

  Something deep inside him shifted, protested. No matter her decision, he’d let her keep the illusion of choice, but he would never let her go.

  Mine. The word seeped into his blood and embedded in his soul.

  “Your answer, Echo?” For a male who waited several millennia for
his mate, Aethan found he wanted her ‘Yes’ with a desperation that clawed at him. He did the only thing he could. Closing the gap between them, he slid a hand around her neck and hauled her to him, capturing her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss.

  The sensation, the taste of her made his head spin. Warm and silky. He could spend hours kissing her.

  Her hands fell to his shoulder and he cursed.

  She jerked back and her gaze widened with alarm, staring at the blood on her hand. “You’re bleeding.”

  Right. He’d forgotten about his wound. “I need to take care of this, and Echo—” His eyes held hers. “I need your answer.” Stripping off his tee, he headed for the bathroom.

  ***

  Echo took a moment to get her breathing under control and tried to focus. How? Why? Moments ago, she’s been ready to leave, and now everything had changed. Aethan wanted her. It all felt like a dream, but she didn’t understand why he thought he wasn’t good for her.

  She hurried to the bathroom.

  Seeing her, Aethan straightened from the counter. Echo opened her mouth to question him and then simply closed it when no words came out. Every single thought she had dissipated like mist. The man had a body that would make most men slink away in despair.

  Rope after rope of sleek, tawny muscles flowed into each other. Banded blue hair no longer flowed down his back, but swept over his shoulders. His leather pants rode low on his hips. He crossed his thick arms over impressive pecs, drawing her eyes to ripped abs. The few nicks and old scars just added to his appeal.

  “What is it?”

  I want to lick every inch of you. “Nothing.” She swallowed, since she could do little to temper down her desire. “How did you get hurt?”

  He didn’t seem interested in his injuries but hers. His gaze fell on her arm. “Where’s the dressing?”