Absolute Surrender

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  “Why didn’t you come to bed?”

  “I am on call. Easier to sit here and keep an eye on you.”

  Her brow creased. “You didn’t have to stay, Aethan. I’m fine.”

  “And deny myself the pleasure of watching you sleep?” he asked her.

  She still had no idea of what she meant to him. Seeing her lying there, almost comatose in sleep from whatever happened in the alley, he wasn’t leaving her. The only reason he didn’t panic was because he’d scanned her and knew she hadn’t been hurt in any way.

  “You need a new hobby,” she said, smiling, her hand stroking his thigh.

  At her touch, his sex strained painfully behind his leathers. He wanted to touch her, wanted her to touch him without the barriers of clothes, wanted just the slide of her skin against his—

  He shifted in his seat.

  She pulled back and glanced around the room. “No snacks? And I’m starving.”

  “Hedori’s been hovering, waiting for you to awaken. I’m sure he’ll have something ready.” Aethan called Hedori and told him to bring up food.

  Then she turned those striking eyes on him, her brows creasing. “What happened to me?”

  “First, I need this, for me.”

  Unable to hold out, he hauled her to him and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. A deep sigh left her and she slid her arms around his neck, pressing against his erection. The seductive taste of her filled his senses. Beneath his skin, his the power surged, battering against his psychic shields—

  Gods, just one minute, one gods-damn minute! He wanted to be able to hold his mate and kiss her the way he wanted. But he couldn’t even have that. Clamping down on his frustration, he gentled the kiss and eased back.

  She stared at him with slumberous eyes then ran a shaky hand through her hair. “What happened last night?” she asked him, easing back. Already he hated that small distance. “I remember we were in the alley,” she continued, “before everything went dark.”

  Aethan skimmed her face with the back of his hand, the need to touch her almost as vital as breathing. Seeing her fall limp into his arm had terrified him. “I should never have taken you into Demon Alley. Can you remember anything?”

  She frowned and, as was her habit, rubbed the scar on her forehead. “I don’t know. I felt pain...I could see the wound.”

  “Whose wound?”

  Her gaze shifted back to him, but Aethan knew she wasn’t seeing him. She waved her hand to encompass everything around them. “I saw it in my mind, torn in the middle, like a long rip in a thin piece of fabric. I felt drawn to it...I heard it sigh, as if the ache eased when I touched it, but I started to feel ill...I don’t remember anything after that, except waking up here.”

  She focused on him again. “It felt like the other time I was there, only, I guess I was a little more prepared this time when I felt that tugging sensation again.”

  Uneasiness plagued him. She’d described the rift in Demon Alley just as he’d seen it. He knew exactly why the demon bastard wanted her.

  “Echo, after you’ve eaten, there’s someone who wants to meet you.”

  “Who?”

  “His name is Michael.”

  ***

  Aethan headed for the study with Echo by his side, the cat trotting along at their feet. He was finding it hard to keep his hands off her. Had to be that damn loose sweater she’d pulled on. One that didn’t hide, but hinted at the curves he’d seen, touched, and tasted—

  Shit. He pushed those thoughts aside, aware of the looks she cast his way.

  Then she turned and walked backwards so she could look at him, her hands tucked in the back pockets of her jeans. “What’s wrong?”

  I’m afraid meeting Michael will change everything. “Nothing.”

  “So the sound of gnashing teeth filling this silent corridor is not you? Guess it’s me then.”

  “Smart-ass.” He yanked her to him and kissed her, feeling her smile against his mouth.

  He didn’t say anything. Why ruin whatever was left of life as she knew it?

  All he wanted was to find a way to claim his mate and finally have some peace. When Echo had lived her mortal years, then he would end his life with hers. Gods, he was thankful for the destined-mate loophole, because he wouldn’t be able to go on without her.

  You have to make love to her for that to happen.

  Damn the Fates! Being unable to claim her was like acid corroding his gut as his hunger, his need for her grew. His greatest desire was his biggest fear.

  “Is this Michael like you?” she asked, sweeping aside the wispy hair falling into her eyes.

  Aethan snorted and pushed opened the study door, the cat streaking in ahead of them.

  ***

  A tall male stood before a desk, talking to Týr. As the door banged shut behind Aethan, they both turned.

  Týr greeted her with a wink. “Hey, gorgeous.” Shock flared across his face as he looked at her, then it gave way to a flirty smile once more. “Like them way better. Sexy.” He smirked at Aethan and sauntered out of the study.

  Echo didn’t respond. Her gaze was riveted on the man near the desk. An inch or so taller than Aethan, the sheer size of him dumbfounded her. Jesus, if he wasn’t the most incredible looking man ever. Black hair fell in thick careless layers to his shoulders. His face, tanned to a golden hue, was sculptured in granite.

  But something about him pulled at her, demanding that she respond. Her toes curled in her leather boots, digging for purchase on the carpeted floor. Why was he affecting her like this? Aethan was the only man she wanted in that way. She concentrated on that thought as awareness flickered to life, and then she realized what it was.

  The man’s sexual aura was a hypnotic lure. For the first time she wondered if all men felt that way when she wasn’t on her pheromones suppressant.

  However, it was his eyes that caught and held her. Vividly blue, they were unnerving to look at, like a mirror that had been shattered and haphazardly put together again, the pieces never quite fitting, allowing an eerie silver light to escape.

  “Echo, this is Michael.”

  Her greeting died in her throat when Michael strode over. She eyed him warily. With a finger, he tipped her face to his, staring at her. She felt helpless. The sheer power of him overwhelmed her.

  “Zarias. The bastard made sure I would know,” Michael said softly.

  Echo frowned. Who was Zarias? What did he have to do with her?

  ***

  Aethan didn’t care for the way Michael looked at Echo. It was as if no one else existed in the room but the two of them.

  ‘Michael, what the fuck are you doing?’ Aethan shot through their telepathic link. ‘Get that allure shit under control!’

  Michael didn’t answer, but the angelic allure dimmed as his shields locked into place. It took a moment or two before he let go of Echo and stepped back.

  “You are Eshana Eklyn Sostratos.”

  Aethan sensed Echo’s surprise. Hell, he’d never wondered about her name—of course, when Damon adopted her, her name would change. That was human law.

  “It’s Echo Carter, actually. I don’t use that name anymore,” she said.

  ‘Is she the one?’ Aethan demanded of Michael and tucked her to his side with a possessive arm.

  ‘Yes. There is no doubt about it. Her eyes, it’s like looking at Zarias.’

  ***

  “Aethan?” Echo stroked his hand. She didn’t like the angry tick on his jaw or his rigid expression.

  Finally, the hard stare he pinned Michael with eased, and he looked at her. “Yes, me’morae?”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  Her worry eased, but she could feel Aethan’s tension and Michael’s gaze on her. She turned to him. “Are you from Empyrea, too?”

  “No,” Aethan snapped, not giving Michael a chance to answer. “He’s the Archangel.”

  That would explain the difference in their auras. While Aetha
n’s was a stunning silvery blue, Michael’s was a spectacular silvery white. It made sense, she supposed, that his would be silver. He was an angel—

  Oh God! She was in the presence of not any angel but the Archangel!

  Her knees trembling, Echo sat down, her backside thankfully connecting with a chair instead of the floor. Her mind tried to accept what her psychic sight revealed when she looked at Michael’s aura. Like his eyes, it had the same hairline fractures, as though his soul had shattered. Something really bad must have happened to him. Then she realized what else was missing.

  He had no wings.

  Did he hide them? Had he given them up to live on this realm? She glanced at Aethan. He had said his mother gave up her wings when she fell from Heaven. But whatever Michael’s reasons were, he was one being she would never forget.

  Her cell phone rang. She ignored it.

  Michael walked over and leaned against the desk, his thick arms crossed over his chest. The tattoo of a sword, a lot like Aethan’s, peeked out from beneath the short sleeve of his T-shirt.

  “Go. Take your call,” Aethan told her. “I have a few things to take care of. I’ll see you later.”

  “All right.” She rose and pulled out her cell from her pocket. “Hold on a sec,” she told whoever it was. Still sensing the tension in him, she came over to him and ran a hand up his chest. “See? You fretted over nothing.”

  His brow shot up and his tensed expression dropped down a notch.

  He caressed her cheek with a finger. “I don’t fret, me’morae. Concerned? Maybe. Troubled, yes, but I never fret.”

  She smiled and patted his chest then headed for the door.

  “Come on, Bob,” she called out.

  Her pet uncurled himself from the rug near the fireplace and trotted out behind her.

  ***

  Aethan forced his gaze away from the door after Echo departed and wandered over to the french doors, to stare out into the gardens. Pale, morning sunlight streamed through thick layers of clouds. A breeze ruffled the leaves of the trees, sending the fallen ones scattering about.

  She worried over him, when it was all about her.

  “She’s good for you,” Michael said as he joined him by the door. “Her power increases. I feel it.”

  “I know. I picked up on it last night.” The psychic vibrations he scanned her for while she’d been asleep were stronger, brighter now.

  “It is not a dangerous type of power that can put mortal lives at risk, but that of a Curantii. A healer.” Power swirled in the Archangel’s ruined irises as he spoke. “It is what she has been born to do. She will need all her strength when she has to travel to other realms, going to places some of us have never been to.”

  Everything in Aethan tensed. “You do realize I won’t let her go alone?” he said, prepared for a fight.

  “I did not expect any less. I recant what I said the other day. Besides being her mate, you will be perfect as the Healer’s guardian on these missions. Just as well. Cannot have you killing my warriors, if it were another,” Michael added drolly, before his expression settled back to a serious one. “She needs to know. If this demon captures her, he will attempt to bind her soul to his and it would be disastrous. We cannot have her going after demoniis, knowing how important she is. I think she would take it better from you. I will speak with the others.” Michael headed for the door, only to turn back.

  “Oh, and that’s not pheromones she suffers from.” He regarded Aethan with a steady look. “She’s like us. She has the same angelic allure.” For the first time ever, Aethan saw the Archangel smile. “You need to teach her how to shield.”

  He stared at Michael’s retreating back. For fuck’s sake! Angelic allure? That shit was worse than pheromones, and it would only get stronger. He swore again when he thought of the males going after his mate. Gritting his teeth, he headed for the gym. He found Blaéz already there, in the process of pulling on his sweats.

  “Everything go all right last night?” Aethan asked him as he changed.

  “We had our moments. Same old crap. Broad-swords or katanas?”

  “Really don’t care—katana.”

  “There’s something else,” Blaéz continued, removing the swords from the reserves. “When I went to pick up the Range Rover, I did a recon in Demon Alley. Oddest thing, the rift there, it’s decreased. Seems to be mending at a faster pace, too.”

  Aethan pulled back his hair and tied it with a leather strip. “It’s Echo. She’s Zarias’s descendant. Michael confirmed it this morning.”

  ***

  Echo ambled along beside Aethan through one of the castle’s lush gardens she had yet to explore, drinking it all in. She’d only seen the manicured grounds from the bedroom window. The cold breeze stung her cheeks. She pulled her beanie down over her ears and stuffed her hands into her coat pockets.

  They passed a freshwater pond. Streams of silver flashing near the surface caught her eye. Then the tiny fish darted away.

  “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” she asked.

  A smile tugged at his mouth, but his gray eyes were grave. “So impatient.”

  She wrinkled her nose and turned away to take in the glorious view. “This entire place is so amazing, but that,” she said, pointing to a wood and glass enclosed gazebo situated on a small, man-made island in the middle of the lake, “has to be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Wisteria, weeping willow, and other trees she didn’t recognize grew in abundance around the lake, their branches dipping into the shimmering water. Aethan led her across the wooden bridge to the island. The place was barren of flowers, the grounds prepared for winter.

  “So, what normally grows here?” she asked, looking around. “It must truly be beautiful in the spring.”

  “Wildflowers.”

  Echo glanced back at him. She couldn’t read his face, but she saw the shadows cloud his eyes.

  She looked back at the building and, on the wall, spotted a small, engraved gold plaque. She went closer, traced a finger over the old script, unable to decipher the language. But one word stood out.

  Ariana.

  His sister. He’d dedicated this place in her memory.

  Tears clogged her throat. “It’s beautiful, Aethan.”

  “It’s just a building. Come,” he said, his tone abrupt.

  Hedori hadn’t told her how Ariana had died. But it must have been bad, if Aethan was banished. Echo hoped he’d talk about what happened, about the past, which put such bleakness in his soul. All she wanted was to ease his pain.

  He pushed open the door to the gazebo, waited for her to enter. The warmth of the interior startled her, the décor even more so. A semi-circular, wicker, lounge set lined the wooden walls, the cushions a harmonious blend of blues and greens. It was peaceful, a place to escape to.

  Aethan shrugged off his coat, tossed it on the armchair, and helped her out of hers.

  “This place is so...” She searched for a word.

  “Isolated?”

  She laughed. “No. Beautiful.” She crossed to a window and stared out. Tall, dark trees surrounded the place. Maples added a splash of color with their variegated leaves, most of which littered the ground. Squirrels darted about stirring the colorful carpet. “And peaceful. Usually when I need to unwind, I go to the roof of my building. Just me and the stars—” She stopped, realizing she sounded melancholy.

  “It’s yours.”

  “Aethan—”

  “Echo, everything I have is yours,” he said, his tone implacable. “Protesting serves no purpose. Come and sit down.”

  Sighing, she glanced around. On the square, glass-top, wicker table stood a black thermos coffee pot and silver-covered dishes.

  “A tête-à-tête?” she teased.

  The predatory look she knew so well was back in his eyes. “I guess talking can wait a bit.”

  Her teasing died a quick death. Remembering the wicked things his mouth could do had her sitting down a
nd clamping her thighs together. It made her hot, and left her wanting.

  His expression tightened when she didn’t respond.

  What was she supposed to do? He’d give her the orgasm of her life, she knew, but he’d still be unfulfilled, in pain. She pushed those thoughts aside.

  He raked his fingers through his unbound hair, giving it some semblance of order, exposing the silver hoops in his ears. His crewneck sweater revealed every ripple of muscle with his movements. He made one heck of a sight for a woman who hungered for him.

  She concentrated on why he brought her here. “Feels like I’m back in school. Okay, what did I do?”

  Gray eyes held hers. He didn’t answer, just shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, which was unlike him.

  “Aethan? You’re scaring me.”

  “You recall what I told you about the demons looking for a psychic female relating to a prophecy?”

  She nodded, slipping her hands under her bottom to keep them warm. “I remember. She’ll be able to heal rifts.”

  “Yes. She is the Healer, a descendant of an angel annihilated eons ago. A demon believes binding this female to him will allow him the freedom of entering all the realms. Since no one can reap psychic powers, he will use her abilities to fulfill his goals.”

  “What are you going to do then?” she asked. Getting off the couch, she headed for the heater.

  ***

  Aethan watched her kneel on the rug in front of the radiator, holding out her hands to warm them. He knew she listened to him with half an ear. He sat down on the wicker couch, stretched out his legs. Echo appeared to be taking all this in stride. So why was he worried about telling her?

  “What we have to do is keep her safe and away from demon clutches but she makes that difficult to do.”

  “You found her?” Her gaze lifted to his. “But that’s wonderful.” Then she frowned. “You said bind her, how?”

  “There’s only one way to do that in the supernatural world. Through the most intimate act possible.”