Deviant Knights

by Alexandra O'Hurley

  “It’s freezing out here, are you mad?”

  “I am. Mad for you.”

  Her eyes sought his, glistening with the morning light. “Gabriel, last night—”

  “My mind understands it. We should enjoy what we have, while we have it. My heart—well, it can’t help the way it feels for you. I’ve never coveted anything in my life, Kadence, nothing. You, you are special. I can’t help the way I feel.”

  “Can you accept what I ask of you? Or will it hurt you to be with me this way?”

  “If it means I will have you in my life and not have to walk away, I will come to accept this. I have dealt with much more hardship in my life than having a wonderfully beautiful woman to share my bed.”

  Kadence leaned into his heat, shivering against his skin.

  “Let’s get you inside, you’re freezing.”

  Michel opened the French doors leading into the bedroom, then rested his nude body against the frame. “She is healed, only to catch her death from pneumonia?”

  “She followed me out.”

  “You are both out of your minds.” Michel wrapped Kadence in a thick quilt as she passed him, pulling her into his arms.

  Gabriel felt a small inkling of envy, but not as strongly as it had been before.

  “Ma cheri, I have something to show you, get showered and dressed. Let me talk to Gabriel a moment.”

  Her eyes rested on them each briefly, unease in her gaze. She gathered a few items from her bag and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door quietly. Both men had pulled on their pants as she had collected her things and watched her go.

  “Gabriel—I know this is hard for you. I sense the depth of your feelings for her. You were the one she dreamt of. You were the man she painted. If this pains you too much, I will step aside.”

  Gabriel’s eyes widened at the decree. She would be his, all he had to do was say the words. All he had to do was tell his best friend that the woman that could heal his soul was off-limits. An evil voice inside his head told him to do it, to tell Michel to back away and let him have his prize.

  Gabriel knew if he did this, if he told Michel to walk away, that he would never be able to touch her himself again.

  Regret would eat him alive. He would hurt two of the people who meant the most to him in the process. None of them would be happy. He couldn’t live with that. Kadence’s way was the only right one.

  “She has opened your wounds, flushed them out, and begun the process of healing you, mi amigo. How could I ever, in my right mind, allow you not to have that in your life?”

  “I won’t be here if it hurts you. It’s as simple as that. I can’t allow my happiness to wound you.”

  “And I would be wounded if I made you leave her. Neither of you would be happy, and how could I live like that?”

  “You are—sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Michel gazed at him a long moment before pulling him into a quick hug, with hard strikes to the back, and a quick release. Neither man was good with displays of emotion. “Mon frère, you are too good to me. I’m not quite sure I deserve the boon you give me now.”

  “If you ever hurt her, you will deal with me. Understood?” Gabriel leveled a gaze at Michel that broached no argument.

  “I don’t plan to hurt her. If I do, you have my leave to do your worst.”

  “I’m glad you two have kissed and made up. It makes me feel much better now.” Gabriel turned to the door, Kadence standing within the frame, her wet hair flowing around her shoulders, a bright yellow sundress flowing to her knees, her feet bare on the stone floor. He felt need spiral through him at the sight of her.

  “Kissing, not so much. But we have an agreement of sorts, I believe?” Michel turned a smile to Gabriel.

  “An agreement, yes. Now what is it you wanted to show Kadence?”

  “I came to this home many years ago and there was a spot on the south side I wanted to show you. Come.”

  Michel reached for Kadence’s hand and pulled her behind him. Gabriel followed the pair down the stairs and through the center of the home. Near the back, they wended their way down a dark hallway and to a small, wooden door. Michel smiled, reaching the door open with a flourish.

  Bright light flooded the hallway and Gabriel had to cover his eyes until he became accustomed to the illumination. He followed Kadence into a solarium. A tall, glass enclosure gave a perfect view of the RhineValley, the view gorgeous.

  “It’s breathtaking.” Kadence’s smile was wide as she walked closer to the glass.

  “I was thinking, with a little cleaning up, we could ask Alain if we could bring in an easel and some paints. I think this would be a view to paint to if I ever saw one.” Michel smiled, looking more relaxed than Gabriel had ever remembered the man.

  “Really? That would be—wonderful.” She rushed over to Michel and hugged him happily, but then Kadence’s face fell. “How long will we be here? What if we have to run again?”

  “This castle was built to withstand attack, and with a little fortification, I think this to be our home for a while. We don’t know what’s coming, but my instinct tells me that if the fight comes to us, we stand and fight, right here. No more running, unless there is no choice,” Michel answered.

  “I agree. This home is off the Illuminati radar. We can see the valley on all sides. The terrain to get here is not easy, one road in and out. It is a defendable position.”

  “I stay here with you both, paint, and do what?”

  “Tell us what you see. Your dreams, and your sight, they will help us immensely. We were prepared for Paloma, thanks to you. Next time, though, you stay away from swords,” Gabriel said.

  “We have a healer, now, so we’re good.” Kadence’s irreverent smile made him shake his head.

  “No, seriously, no swords,” Gabriel mocked, knowing that the comment was far from a joke.

  “Then teach me how to use one?” Kadence walked seductively towards him, her smile widening as she stepped.

  “Not happening,” Michel said from behind her.

  “Oh, come on, Gabriel.”

  “No!” They both yelled at her at once.

  “What if you aren’t around? Teach me some of those swashbuckling, Errol Flynn moves so I can be safe.”

  “That man was all fluff. If I teach you anything, I will teach you proper defensive moves,” Gabriel responded.

  “Good, when do we begin?”

  “I agreed to nothing.” She would be the death of him, he was sure of it. “I was saying hypothetically, if I were to teach you, that is what I would teach you.”

  “I beg to differ, Gabriel. It sounded as though you already were planning what to show me.”

  “You are the most obstinate woman I have ever met.”

  “And you love it, admit it.”

  “I do.”

  Her look of shock to his quiet admission quickly softened into a smile. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled close, her face into his chest. Lifting her face to him, he reached out and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

  He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her softly.

  “We will both teach you, then, different styles, and make sure you know how to defend yourself properly,” Michel added, closing in behind her, his lips reaching for her neck, as he brushed her hair to one side.

  Gabriel watched her eyes close as she melted into Michel’s touch. Would they never get enough of her?

  He sure hoped not.

  Epilogue

  Thierry looked out into the moonlit night, his nerves rubbed raw. He couldn’t get the sight of brilliant blue eyes out of his mind. They’d been framed in a face that was Asian, Hawaiian he was almost sure, which was even odder still. How many Hawaiian women had blue eyes? She’d looked like a mixture of several races, not wholly Hawaiian, which had made her exotic beauty the harder to place.

  Face of an angel, body and mind of a killer.

  She’d killed that soldier with absolutely no q
ualms, kicking the dead body aside like a piece of garbage. And then she’d taken in the lightning, their lightning. What did it do for her? For the Templars, it made them stronger. It would explain her vicious fighting style; her swords had been a blur as they’d struck.

  In the heat of battle, he’d been excited by her prowess, as well as, the fact he may have found another of the demi-goddesses he wanted to pull close. As soon as he’d turned, she was gone, and he had no name, no knowledge of who the hell she was or why she’d attacked Paloma.

  Paloma was pure evil, as she’d proven all those years ago. Thierry was sure she had pissed off the wrong people over the years with her ruthlessness, so there was probably no end to the potential candidates for killing the woman.

  Was she still a woman? They’d killed the immortal Illuminati for years, and now that Kadence claimed their true faces looked demonic, he wondered what they were. Hell, was he even still human at this point?

  He still ate. He still breathed. He still had needs like any other man.

  The dark warrior was small, perhaps only a few inches over five feet, but she’d fought like a man twice her size. Her lithe body had called to him. His cock grew hard even now as he thought about her.

  But she’d been so bloodthirsty. It had rocked him to the core. Even after seven hundred years, he was not as jaded as she appeared.

  His dark warrior.

  Cool breezes swept down the mountains as he stood overlooking the RhineRiver. This place was peaceful.

  Alain stepped out onto the balcony, the moonlight pouring over his features. Of any of the Templars left, Alain was probably the most beautiful, and perhaps the most deadly.

  He kind of reminded Thierry of a male version of his dark warrior.

  “The seer is healed. The healer rests. And we now have a warrior to find.” Alain spoke softly as he stepped closer. “You were closer to her. Did you gather anything from her that would help us?”

  “No. She gave away no clues except her possible heritage. But in these times, she could live anywhere. It helps us not.”

  “How did she take our lightning?” Alain rested back on the ledge, an apple and a knife appearing in his hands.

  “She’s a demi-goddess. There is a lot we do not know about how strong they could be.”

  “She fights too well.”

  “Too well?” Thierry turned to look at his normally quiet friend.

  “A woman of her beauty should not be fighting. But she does it so well, how could you keep her from it?”

  “You found her—beautiful?”

  “As did you. I saw you staring at her.” Alain popped a piece of apple into his mouth.

  Thierry grew quiet, the breezes off the mountain ruffling over him. “Yes, she was stunning.”

  ****

  Kailani McDaniel limped into her apartment halfway around the world. Pulling off her black fighting gear, she stalked through the immaculate home, dropping her clothing and weapons as she moved. Low-lights immediately came on as she opened the front door of the expensive home. She’d killed a lot of enemies over the years in order to afford the luxuries around her. Not that she ever appreciated any of them for more than a few hours.

  She stopped to look into the bathroom mirror that graced one large wall, grunting as she looked over the numerous bruises and cuts that covered her body. Her fingers checked over the meatier gashes and she determined she would heal up just fine.

  She turned on the shower and stepped inside, the numerous heads washing away the blood and gore from the night. Resting her head on the cool granite wall, she relived the events of the evening, angered that she’d missed her target.

  Her client would not be happy that Paloma the gypsy bitch was still breathing. Had she not paused to look at that son-of-a-bitch Templar, perhaps she wouldn’t have missed her chance. His nearness had caught her off-guard. She’d felt his eyes on her as she fought and she’d not liked it one bit.

  Kailani didn’t have distractions. Distractions were weaknesses. Weaknesses equated to death in her line of work.

  She grasped the bar of soap and a cloth from the bar, and began to lather. Gray eyes whispered into her mind and she gnashed her teeth, kicking the image from her mind. She washed her body quickly and efficiently and rinsed off.

  Grabbing a bath sheet, she wrapped herself in it and moved to the large windows, opening them to the sounds of the night. The Fijian surf crashed along the shore violently, like her mood. A low-hanging moon made the water shimmer, the illumination wavering over the surface. Kailani walked out onto the deck, letting the sea air swell over her injured body. A night of rest and she’d be back on the hunt for the Illuminati bitch.

  Visions of the Templar fighting flooded her brain. He’d been strong of body, working his sword through his opponents with ease. But it was more than that. All the Templars there were of equal strength, equal experience. The one they called Thierry had a trait that the others did not seem to possess. He moved with a legendary grace, as if he expected the next move that would come.

  His tight, compact body had been a finely honed machine, and that is what drew her to him. Not his gray eyes filled with wisdom, or the solid set of his jaw.

  She had absolutely no time in her life for romance. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d wanted or needed sex. Sex brought on strings, even when men claimed they wanted none. A little use and abuse and the men acted like chicks, asking her to stay the night and cuddle—talk about their feelings?

  Big, strong warrior types, the ones she’d grown up around on base after base after base with her family. Yeah, they were supposed to be hardened steel. Yet a few hours in bed with her and they turned into women.

  She had no time or desire for all that.

  Maybe the Templar would be different. Maybe they would be hard, tougher than men from her own time. They had experienced battles of all kinds, from the Crusades on. That had to toughen up a man, right? Maybe that was the draw she felt to the biggest motherfucker she’d ever seen in a fight.

  Her body thrummed at the thought of riding that bull of a man. Perhaps she wasn’t as unfeeling as she thought. She was still, after all, human. At least she thought so, but after all she’d gone through, who knew?

  The phone rang from inside.

  Stepping back through the open glass doors, she picked up the receiver and put it to her ear, knowing exactly who it would be.

  “You missed your target.”

  Kailani was stunned speechless, which never happened. “Yes, but I won’t next time.”

  “How am I to believe that you won’t miss again? You came highly recommended. Now I wonder if I chose incorrectly.”

  “No. No, you did not. I will get the job done. You gave me three months and it has only been one. I have plenty of time.”

  “Yes, but now Paloma knows you’re after her. The element of surprise is gone. And she’s tasted your steel once, I doubt she’ll let you get close enough to taste it again.”

  “I have never lost a target. She will be dead in sixty days. I guarantee it.”

  “Be careful what you guarantee, Kailani. Life has a tendency to rise up and change things. And due to your failure, your job has—changed some.”

  “What do you need me to do, now?”

  “You need to employ the assistance of the knights.”

  “I will get this job done. I don’t need their help.”

  “It isn’t a request, but an order.”

  Kailani put a hand to her forehead, wishing she’d never agreed to the job. But the chance to kill a high-ranking Illuminati? There was no way she wasn’t going to taste a piece of that action. “Fine. I’ll go find the Templars. Do you know where they were heading?”

  Kailani cringed in pain in having to ask, but she’d do anything at this point to ensure she was successful.

  “The Templars are on the move to Germany, on the Rhine, near the French border. Alain d’Albon has a home there. Find it, and you will probably find Paloma fast on t
heir heels as well. A flight to Neuerburg has already been scheduled for you. Check your email for details.”

  Kailani dropped the receiver back into the cradle and rubbed her forehead. A killer of a headache was coming on.

  Not only had she failed at a task, she was going to have to go hand-hold the fucker who’d messed it up in the first place. And try to keep herself from jumping his bones.

  The End

  www.alexandraohurley.com

  Other Books by Alexandra O’Hurley:

  The Lottery

  Master of Mine

  Being Improper

  Night of the Dragon

  Midnight Seduction

  Beauty and Her Beasts

  The Virgin Who Cried Wolf

  Park and Ride

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com