Cassia leaned back, the tone of his voice like a slap. “Pardon me?”
“I’m sorry I’m acting like such a bastard.” Jake sucked in his breath. “My story’s nothing special. My family was poor—primarily because my parents wasted every spare cent on drugs and alcohol.”
He shrugged. “I grew up as the shabby kid who didn’t have money for decent clothes. Jeans too short, holes in my shirts, whatever. So I was treated like crap by everyone and their mother, father, brother, and sister, too.”
Cassia’s chest hurt for that little Jake. “Look at who you turned out to be—an incredible, honest, upstanding man who commands legions.”
“I don’t know if I can agree with you on that point.” Jake studied her. “I joined the Marines after high school. Each time I went on a recon I unleashed every bit of anger I had stored inside me. Anger against my parents. My uncle. The kids who treated me like crap when I was growing up.”
He rubbed his temples again with his fingers. “I was young and stupid when I enlisted, and I did a lot of things I’m not proud of.” He added quietly, “Like fucking up a mission big-time.”
Cassia rose up on her knees and smiled as she cupped Jake’s face in her palms and rubbed them along his jaws. “Everyone does things they are not proud of. Everyone screws up.”
She gave him a little smile. “I have lived for over four centuries, Jake. I survived many years of mass hysteria against Pagans and through the persecution of countless witches.”
Her throat hurt when she thought of all the people who had died during those years, and she had a hard time continuing. “Many of those murdered were my friends, and to this day I cannot forgive myself for not saving them all.” She wanted to cry at the memories that had never faded. “I could only save a handful compared to how many we lost.”
“Ah, honey.” Jake took Cassia in his arms and held her close.
“I have lived through centuries of racism against so many different peoples and religions. The Irish, African-Americans, Chinese, Native Americans, Pagans, Catholics, and Protestants.”
Jake rocked her as she continued, “You are right. It is everywhere. And you do not know how many times I have wished for the power to wipe discrimination and racism from this Earth Otherworld. But even as a Guardian ascending, I cannot.”
“I am a shit.” Jake squeezed her tighter. “It never occurred to me that after living here for so long you’d have seen so much of the ugly side of life. That you lived through it.”
Cassia drew away from Jake and drank in the depth of his blue eyes. “I don’t say these things to make you feel badly. I tell you this because I want you to know I understand how it hurts to be discriminated against. The way my people treated you—it is inexcusable.” She reached up and kissed him before easing back. “And the way you were treated as a child—also inexcusable.”
He stared at the wall directly in front of him and didn’t answer.
“You hold yourself away from everyone, Jake,” Cassia said. “That’s not good for you, for any person.”
The main warehouse lights shut off for the night, with only strategic lights left glowing. Even in the near darkness Jake’s handsome features made her heart flip.
He remained quiet and she gently touched his cheek to bring him to face her.
“You’re a special woman.” Jake took one of her hands and brought her to him, once again holding her tightly. He was changing the subject, but she knew his words were sincere. “And you’re mine. Got that?”
More sadness crept through Cassia like a low-hanging fog. “I wish that could be true.”
“We’ll make it happen.” Jake offered her a smile, and Cassia had to hold back a snort when he added, “I just need to talk to Mom.”
Cassia couldn’t help another laugh, but she stiffened as Jake drew her down to the mattress, both their heads on his pillow. He brought her to him so that her back rested against his muscular chest, his strong arm around her waist, her body molded against his.
His rigid length pressed into her backside but Jake did nothing more than hold her. She had never felt so secure, so safe, so cared for. She had never felt so incredibly wonderful.
Jake nuzzled her hair. “Goodnight, Princess.”
“Goodnight, Jake,” she whispered. And for the first time in her life, fell asleep in a man’s arms.
15
The morning following the fight in Union Square, Darkwolf woke, his body fully healed, but he still had a sharp pain in his chest. Probably to remind him what an arrogant fuckhead he’d been.
How could a mere human take him down like Macgregor had?
His back ached from sleeping on the carpet. It was plush, but it was still a floor.
And he had Elizabeth wrapped in his arms.
Damn.
He raised his head and stared down at her. In all these months that he’d known the demon-woman, dominating and controlling her in the bedroom with hardcore sex, they had never done anything as intimate as just holding each other.
Darkwolf closed his eyes, shutting away the image of the beautiful woman sleeping in his arms.
She’s not a woman. She’s Fomorii.
No. She’s a woman now.
Who can turn into a malformed blue demon with apelike arms and distorted, massive body, as well as claws and a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth?
Darkwolf tried to burn the images from his mind.
She’s Elizabeth now. Junga is gone.
Junga is gone.
But he was fooling himself.
Did it matter?
Elizabeth shifted, and Darkwolf opened his eyes to see her smiling up at him like a woman looking at her lover. He couldn’t help but respond to her smile. She was so incredibly beautiful.
Last night she had saved his life. She had gotten him through the almost deadly attack.
Even with his dried blood streaking her face, hands, and arms, she was gorgeous. Her clothing had stiffened in places, soaked with his blood. His own stiff clothing itched and he needed a shower. Both he and Elizabeth smelled like blood and sweat, and the carpet freshener made his nose itch.
He swallowed as he studied her stunning blue eyes. “I think we both need to clean up.”
“Definitely.” Her smile slipped away as she pushed herself to a sitting position and looked from her bloodied hands to his chest. “How do you feel?”
Darkwolf eased to his feet. “I’ll live now.” He extended his hand to her, drew her up, and brought her close enough to him that her breasts brushed his chest and he began to harden. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Her expression appeared genuinely confused.
He squeezed her hand. “If it wasn’t for you keeping me sane and awake, and pushing me to heal last night, I might have fallen asleep. And never have woken up.”
“Oh.” She gave a little shrug that had a hint of not being so casual. “You did the same for me.”
When that bastard cop Jake Macgregor had shot her twice and one of the Dark Elves had nailed her with an arrow, how could he not have helped to save her?
Darkwolf’s gut churned and prickles of heat slid over his skin. He’d almost lost Elizabeth the night the Alliance destroyed the dark goddess and Darkwolf had taken the goddess’s powers.
It had almost killed Darkwolf when he thought Elizabeth was going to die. He’d never felt so much pain in his life. Like his heart was going to explode.
“Shower then.” He kept his hold on her hand and led her to the sumptuous penthouse’s bathroom.
His head nearly spun as he thought about undressing her instead of just taking her. Usually they only took off enough clothing for some good hard sex—multiple times.
Darkwolf tried to grab onto those same impulses and desires, but they weren’t there. Instead he wanted to take it slow with her.
What was wrong with him?
He knew.
How could this happen? It was insane. He was out of his mind. The past several months had charred his brain
and his senses.
If he hadn’t started to soften toward her before he took over the dark god’s and dark goddess’s powers, he would blame it on having two gods’ powers inside him. Evil gods.
But he couldn’t blame it on that, could he.
For at least the hundredth time, Darkwolf pushed thoughts of his feelings aside. Temporary insanity. That’s what it was. If he were still Kevin Richards, once a white witch before he’d been lured into dark sorcery, he would be repulsed by the demon-woman.
Don’t think about it.
When they reached the bathroom, Darkwolf released Elizabeth’s hand and turned the shower knobs in the huge walk-in shower area. He ran the water until it was perfectly warm before he returned to Elizabeth.
They slowly stripped out of their clothing. He helped her pull her T-shirt over her head and tossed it aside. With a groan, he palmed her nipples before pinching them lightly and causing her to draw in her breath.
He released her and she shimmied out of her jeans after kicking off her running shoes. He didn’t like her to wear underwear, always wanting her to be ready for him to take her, so she never wore panties or a bra, or even socks.
She kept her eyes focused on him the entire time she removed her clothing. The dynamics between them had changed, and she felt it as much as he did. She didn’t have to say it. He knew it by the look in her eyes and in her actions.
When they were both naked, Darkwolf led her so that they stood beneath the three shower heads and water rushed over them. Blood that had streaked their bodies circled the drain, coloring the water rust red before swirling away.
They remained silent as he washed her. He couldn’t find any words. He’d known how to act, what to say and do, before this morning, but not now.
The hotel’s passion fruit-scented shampoo and conditioner mingled with the steam and replaced smells of blood and sweat. Now that he was over seven feet tall, thanks to his newfound god powers, he had to lean down. Although she was tall for a woman in her human form, she felt so petite against him.
His length hardened to its massive godlike proportions and he pressed it against her water-slick back while he washed and then put the conditioner on her hair, before rinsing it again. It was a surprisingly erotic experience, washing a woman’s hair and body. She wiggled against him the entire time and he groaned.
Primal urges stormed through him and he wondered why he held back. Why he didn’t just take her now.
He was too tall for her to be able to reach up and wash his hair, so he did it himself. Then she insisted on scrubbing his body with a washcloth, and he thought he’d climax when she slowly, deliberately washed his groin and grinned up at him.
When it was her turn, Darkwolf held her under the shower heads and scrubbed the rest of the blood off her with a clean washcloth and scented shower gel. His length brushed her soapy belly, then her back when he turned her around.
Desire continued to flare through him and it took everything he had to keep from throwing her against the shower wall and taking her now.
“I want you inside,” Elizabeth said, echoing his thoughts. She braced her hands on the tiled wall, her back to him, the shower water still pounding down on both of them. “Inside me, Darkwolf.”
A deep rumble rose high in his chest. He positioned himself, grabbed her hips, and slid deep inside her.
Elizabeth gave a combination of a gasp and a cry like she always did now that he was so much thicker and longer. She’d told him how much she loved it when he took her hard and fast, yet the oddest feeling overcame him now—what if he was hurting her?
Darkwolf shook off the thought and slipped fully into the moment. Elizabeth moaned and met his thrusts as he took her. He started out slow, but soon couldn’t control himself and drove into her harder and faster.
Water pounded down on them as he bent over her back and palmed her breasts, loving the weight of them in his hands. Elizabeth moaned and thrashed, and when he plucked and pinched her nipples she came with a loud cry.
Her core contracted around his length, making his balls draw up and his head spin with his oncoming orgasm. He slammed into her a few more times before stars sparked in his vision and he jerked against her ass.
He throbbed inside her core, his energy spent inside of her.
“Dear gods, Elizabeth.” He brought her up and turned her around before taking her mouth with his, claiming her in a way he never had before.
And almost said those three damned words.
16
“Yes, my lord,” I say to Darkwolf.
With Hannah and Garran in the realm of the Dark Elves, their bedroom is perfect for my private discussions with the great warlock-god, though the lingering Drow scent of earth and moss turns my stomach.
“It will be a lot harder to let you know what the Alliance has planned ahead of time, but I’ll find a way.”
“I know you will.” His tone warms my chest. He puts so much faith in me—as he should. “Even if it’s at the last minute, when you arrive at your destination,” he continues, “it’ll take no time to transfer myself there and call the Blades and Stormcutters.”
“You are brilliant, my lord.” Pride makes my skin prickle. I’m a part of the warlock-god’s plans and future. When I first went to him, it was with some trepidation—even though I’ve always been attracted to the darkness—but now, nothing but joy. Nothing but the incredible power of dark sorcery. “I am honored to serve you.”
“And you serve me well.” He sounds a little amused, yet pleased. “I trust you. I know you’ll let me know the next time something goes down the second you can.”
I smile. “I’ll be in contact with you soon.”
“Be careful and watch out for yourself. We can’t afford for you to get caught.” His tone darkens and the low sound makes me jump. “I need you to the very end, when those bastards are finally out of my way.”
“Of course, my lord.” Jittery sensations course my body, like I’m nervous. I don’t know why.
Darkwolf ends the conversation abruptly, without saying goodbye, and that makes me frown.
He must be in the middle of something important. Otherwise, he would never be rude to me.
He needs me too much, especially after those last surprises.
Damn the Alliance! My body shakes with anger and the darkness stirs within me, wanting to get out. I grind my teeth, pick up a pillow, and fling it against the wall of the room. I want to throw something much harder, and fragile, like Hannah’s scrying mirror, and let it shatter across the warehouse’s concrete floor. But I don’t want to be heard.
Can’t be heard.
I school my expression, slip out of the bedroom, and move silently through the warehouse. Good sex with Fredrickson will lessen my anger.
Silver’s and Hawk’s voices echo just around the corner. I scan the hall while pulling a glamour to make sure no humans can see me, then listen to Silver and Hawk’s conversation.
“You can’t even tell me!” Silver sounds angry. “I’m your wife, for the goddess’s sake.”
“A thaisce,” Hawk says, making me want to puke as he uses his pet name for her, “You know I cannot. Each faction of the Alliance chose one representative. It is a test. We must find some way of discovering the traitor.”
Traitor. The word grates on my nerves.
I am a loyal follower of Darkwolf now. I’ll do whatever it takes to see that he gains the position of power that will give him control over this city. Then I’ll be among the few who will be his most trusted advisors. Not a Blade, no. But a much more important position.
Darkwolf will make San Francisco his own. A city that no one, no government, no military, will be able to conquer once he achieves his ultimate greatness.
The power Darkwolf wields—to this date he hasn’t shown the magnitude of it.
“Jake made the decision.” Hawk continues speaking to Silver. “I believe it to be an excellent move on the Alliance’s behalf.”
I scowl and clen
ch my fists. My head aches from grinding my teeth. Jake Macgregor’s attack on Darkwolf, the cop’s success in hurting the warlock-god—that was luck. An anomaly. It was nothing. And the Alliance is stupid to believe otherwise.
Darkwolf will be taking new and stronger measures to protect himself when he directs storms and his Stormcutters.
Just let that cop try to stab Darkwolf again.
Jake Macgregor will get a nasty surprise.
Silver grumbles something I can’t hear and Hawk gives a gentle laugh. “I love you,” he says.
Gag.
“Dear Anu, I wasn’t only there from the beginning,” Silver says, “I brought you here to fight this war. This whole mess would have been over before it started if I hadn’t. We would be under the god and goddess’s powers now.”
Silver’s voice has risen, filled with anger, and for a moment I imagine her pulling her stiletto daggers from her boots and flinging them at a wall.
Maybe I should get a dagger. It might come in handy.
I hear a sound like she’s stomping her foot. “I should be allowed to be a part of it.”
“You are.” His voice is gentle. “More so than I wish as you carry my child. Our child.”
Double gag.
Silver says, “How many times do I have to tell you I am not helpless and the baby will be fine?”
This conversation is a waste of time.
I turn to leave when something Hawk says makes me pause. “I will tell you this. Kirra and Sheridan,” he says, changing the subject and naming two female D’Danann warriors, “believe they found Darkwolf’s lair during their last search. But I can say no more.”
Silver lets out a sigh loud enough for me to hear. “Well, that at least is good news.”
Cold rushes over me like a swift breeze off the bay. Could the D’Danann really have found Darkwolf?
I doubt it. But I’ll see what I can find out, just the same.
Hair at my nape prickles.
One of the D’Danann warriors is walking up behind me. I sense it. As Fae, they are deadly silent. But my senses are strong.
The Dark Page 16
