“I’m sorry about this. All of this.” An echo of the care Jacob had shown her in Rio tunneled through her newly constructed barrier as his thigh brushed hers. Instant electricity stung her insides. “I tried telling them you’re not who they think you are, but they won’t release you until they know for sure.”
“Nothing you just said explains what they’re going to do to me.” It didn’t make sense—he didn’t make sense—but she didn’t have the energy to figure out his mind games. No way in hell would she stick around for them to perform whatever experiments they wanted to do on her. She had to get out of there, and away from him. “If you’re going to apologize at all, you should apologize for using me, for making me trust you, and then tell me what test they’re going to perform.”
“Then I’m sorry for using you and for making you trust me. I’m sorry you’ve been kidnapped and tied to a radiator. And I’m sorry for not protecting you as I should have. I promise, I’ll get you out of this.” Before she could pull back, he swiped a stray strand of hair from her face then settled his fingertips along her jaw. His heated gaze held hers enthralled, but the pain in that stare that he tried to conceal made her ache. A knot settled tight in her stomach.
What was it about him that made her believe every word?
She swallowed hard, read the sincerity in his features. Given the amount of drugs she’d watched them pump into his body, she tended to believe he didn’t have a say in his own situation, especially combined with Isabel’s words. It’s not him we want. “That still doesn’t answer the test part.”
“I’m not sure you’d believe a word I told you if I gave you the details. It’s going to be very painful.” He dropped his hand and her skin cooled.
Her heart lurched. She could handle pain, but the deepening lines around his mouth said she might not make it out alive. Throat constricting, she straightened, the scrape of plastic on metal sending a shiver down her back as she adjusted. She yanked her arm again, and the zip tie bit into the dry skin beneath it. Maybe her hand would fall right off from how tight Isabel had tied her. “Will it kill me?”
Rage, dark and deadly, descended over his features, but the agony that followed seared down into her heart. His jaw strained under the pressure. He didn’t answer, averted his attention to the floor.
She couldn’t help but feel that same anger all the way to her bones, to her soul, like they’d been connected by an invisible string, each sharing the other’s emotions. He cared enough about her to dread the moment their captors came back through that door. But why? His reaction didn’t sync up with his leaving her in Rio.
Unfamiliar longing washed over her with an intensity she’d never experienced before. Her death would kill him. That much she’d read in his moment of weakness. He’d promised to get them out of there, but what if he failed? “Can you at least tell me how you plan on getting us out of here?”
When his pain-filled gaze connected with hers again, heartache spread throughout her chest. The knot in her gut tightened, her lungs refusing to catch up with her pulse.
He flexed his fingers into a fist. “Not yet. Whatever they drugged me with hasn’t worn off, and it’s making my head fuzzy, but I gave you my word. I’ll get you out of here.”
I’ll get you out of here. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
He’d sacrifice himself for her. It was just a feeling, a sense thriving in the pit of her stomach, like the one that had told her not to answer the damn door. Those instincts had warned her before, although not about him. If anything, they’d told her to go for it. Their eyes met and something deep in the depths of his emerald green eyes begged her to understand how hard all of this had been for him. She had no idea what to think. Just because he’d claimed her as his wife didn’t mean she knew him. “Why would they use you to get to me if we haven’t seen each other in ten years?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at her until she had to turn away.
Her reaction annoyed the hell out of her. He set her on edge, made her experience sensations she’d never known existed. Had it been like this before she’d lost her memory? They had to have been happy at one point. In love.
He might’ve been a great warrior had he been somewhere else in history, loyal to his king, his wife, his family. She would’ve stuck by his side as if they somehow belonged together, doing household chores, raising a litter of children, welcoming each other home from war. She swallowed hard. It was just a stupid fantasy.
“You’re smiling,” he said.
Dammit. “No, I’m not.”
The searing heat from his study warmed her skin. With slow, calculated movements, he reached for her. Her pulse pounded like a headache with each beat. Every inch he gained, her blood pumped harder, sizzling in her veins. Warning bells sounded in her head; however, something deep within wanted him closer. Stupid. She turned her face from his hand. “So, while I have you here, why don’t you tell me what exactly happened between us? Ten years is a long time to just now find out we were married.”
He got the message and dropped his hand, didn’t attempt another move. “Now isn’t the time.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Now is the perfect time and I’m tired of following your schedule to find out who I am. So spill it.”
“They’re coming.”
The bedroom door swung open, casting light from a single bare bulb across the floor.
“My name is Damien.” Damien placed a chair in front of her and took his seat. The same warning bells she’d experienced in her apartment before she answered the door to Officer Psycho rang loud in her head. Pure evil.
“Are you here to perform the test?”
“We’ll get to that. First, I want to tell you a story.”
“Is it supposed to explain why I’m here?”
He gave her nothing, gray eyes fixed on her like an animal stalking his prey. Gray like Isabel’s. Were they related?
She pushed her chin up, trying to project confidence when all she wanted to do was collapse.
Damien’s shoulders stiffened. She could read his body language as clearly as she’d seen the pain in Jacob’s eyes. He wanted this over as much as she did. “I just have one question for you after I’m finished. Answer that to my satisfaction and we can talk about letting Jacob go. Understand?”
“But not me.” Her gut wrenched violently as her attention shifted to Jacob. The hard, serious set of his features said Damien meant every word. He had led these people straight to her, risked her life, and she wouldn’t risk anyone else’s. He could walk out of here. Maybe get help. “Fine,” she said. “Tell me a story.”
…
“The Seal of Solomon. Do you recognize the name?” Damien asked.
“No, should I?”
So that was the Deceiver’s plan—resurrect the Heiress of the Underworld and take control of her army. The gold ring reflected the fires of hell in his mind’s eye. It’d been a long time since Jacob had seen it—ten years to be exact—and the last time had been engrained into his memory for eternity, along with the pain on his love’s face.
“It’s the most powerful ring in existence, made from the blood of the Deceiver himself, whom you’d call the Devil. His only daughter was given the ring as a gift, and with it, promised the Underworld if she brought him victory against the Father with her army. It only answers to one person: her. And with her death ten mortal years ago, the ring was lost.”
Jacob glanced at Vdarra to see how she was taking Damien’s story. Her eyes widened, and she scoffed. “What are you saying? The devil exists and he has a daughter? Get real.”
“Rumors of the Seal’s location surfaced within days, along with tales of the legendary power protecting the ring. By casting the ring to earth and finalizing her death, the Father ensured the powers within the Seal and its owner never reunited. But no matter how hard the old man tries, he can’t conceal the ring from its true owner when she’s near, because it can call for her.”
&
nbsp; She had to see where this was leading. The way Damien stared at her, the way he waited for her answer, gave her every sign she needed to decipher the fiend’s accusation. “You think I’m the Heiress to the Underworld.”
“It’s just a matter of time before the ring’s pull gets so strong, you won’t be able to ignore it. The longer you drag this out, the faster it’ll drive you insane. I want that ring. Tell me where it is and Jacob walks out of here.”
She met his gaze, and Jacob longed to hold her, protect her. Then he caught her intention. No.
“Then it’s a good thing I know where it is.”
Dammit. What was she doing? She couldn’t get out of this mess alone. They barely had a chance as it was.
Damien leaned forward in the chair, elbows on his knees. The fiend’s mortal form resembled an older man, one in his late forties. Brown hair showed spots of gray, his jawline covered with it. The skin overlaying the monster inside had torn in a few places, a sight Jacob had seen several times over the centuries as he’d fought against the Deceiver. It was a life he’d left behind, the war between angels and demons, between the Deceiver and the Father. It seemed, however, it would follow him until the end of days.
The combination of decomposition and sulfur made him gag. The Underworld left its mark on all its demons, but no matter how long he’d fought on the side of the Father, he’d never get used to the odor. This servant had hunted him for the last ten years and finally caught the prey. His neck and jaw strained as he clenched his teeth. The urge to kill reverberated throughout his body, an echo of his old life engrained in his muscles and reflexes. His diminished energy, coupled with the toxins in his body, wouldn’t hold up against a full-fledged Archdemon. Damien had done his job well, but Jacob wouldn’t give in.
“And here Jacob swore you didn’t have any memory of your previous life.”
“Before I tell you the location, let him go.” Her lips quivered.
“First I need proof this isn’t some trick to get me to release the only leverage I have against you. Tell me something only the Heiress of the Underworld would know and you have your deal.” Damien’s sharp gaze studied her from head to toe, raising Jacob’s hackles.
“Fine. We were in love.” Her rough exhale filled the silence. “Jacob and I were in love.”
Were. Past tense. Of course she hadn’t fallen for him in the span of a few days, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. Seconds of silence turned into a full minute. The heat coursing through his body simmered, but his awareness of her inches away only intensified.
“You have a deal.” Damien stood, his shoulders and arms flexing with his movements. Dark eyes assessed her for a few seconds, building pressure in Jacob’s chest. “Where is the Seal?”
A laugh escaped Vdarra’s lips and Jacob forced his attention away from her. That mouth had been on his, warming his chest, neck, and arms. Her smile had made his heart race and his wings itch for release. It still did, but he couldn’t afford to lose focus with Damien so close. The longer he stayed around her, the faster his remaining power ebbed. He swore to himself he’d protect her until his dying breath.
“Let him go first.” Her voice still held a hint of laughter, although she’d grown tired and distant. She may have looked vulnerable, exhausted from hunger and lack of sleep, but the hard-set expression on her face said otherwise.
“Not until you give me what I want,” Damien said.
“Hey, you said we had a deal!” Vdarra cried, kicking out at Damien.
Damien raised a fist toward her.
A warning growled deep in Jacob’s chest. Ten years of pain and rage swept through him.
Flashing red, Damien’s eyes narrowed.
An agonizing heat washed over every inch of Jacob’s body. His back bowed against the wall and he slumped hard to the floor. The air in his lungs evaporated like oxygen consumed by a fire.
“No!” Her voice ripped at the gaping hole she’d left in his chest years ago. The plan had been simple: protect the woman he loved. But desperation to believe she could be brought back had urged him to test the theory and give up the only person that mattered: Vdarra.
She hovered over him. In a transparent haze, amber eyes stared down at him, overlapping the beautiful chocolate of Vdarra’s, as if a ghost hovered directly in front of her. They filled with strength, passion. Love. No other features remained in focus. Just the eyes…
Duemos’s eyes.
He reached toward her. His heart ached to touch her, hold her, bring her back to him. His fingertips passed through the hallucination, but connected with warm skin. Vdarra’s skin. An echo of the bliss he’d shared with his mate overtook him. Tears stung as sensation after sensation bombarded his system. A sigh escaped at the rightness. That gaze had settled on him dozens of times, hundreds even. Now he realized he’d taken every second for granted. “It’s really you. You’re back.”
The haze disappeared, taking a piece of him with it. The hallucination had lasted only a moment, but seemed so very clear in a single breath. Hope, desperation, love, and a sliver of fear forced his hands into fists. He couldn’t lose her again, and he willed himself to fight the drugs in his system. He sat upright and crushed his lips to hers in one lithe movement, nearly knocking her backward from the force.
Molten rage threatened to consume him, but a hint of citrus drifted to him, surrounding him in a sea of calm. Soft lips, hesitant under his, kept pace with him in a slow rhythm. A deep, humming throb burned throughout his body in response. Past memories melded with present sensations. He ached to hold her closer, to let go of the past, but it had been her.
Duemos, the love of his life, had resurfaced, if only briefly.
And he’d do whatever he could to bring her back.
Vdarra wrenched away from him, eyes wide, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. With a single shove against the floor, she put another six inches of distance between them. “What are you doing?”
“I…” Heat burned up his neck. He shouldn’t have kissed her. Not here. Not with his guard down. And not without her trust. His insides twisted. She hadn’t forgiven him for Rio. And why would she? He’d used her for his own sick obsession to resurrect his mate, then ran. Damn coward.
“Well, if you two are finished,”—Damien revealed a small vial held by a cord around his neck—“we’ve got business to take care of.”
Chapter Six
“What is that?” A slight hitch broke in her voice. Her eyes widened, darting from him to Damien and back. Despite her ending their kiss, the visible tension in her shoulders reflected the strain in his. Always one. Always connected.
He ached to comfort her, but the exhaustion from Damien’s drugs had yet to wear off.
Through some sick joke, Vdarra Jansen had been put on this earth to torture him, and the fact she remembered nothing beyond the last ten years only made it worse.
He willed the anxiety building throughout his body to dissipate. The fading surge of adrenaline had burned the toxins from his blood. Mind clear, he waited for his chance to strike. He’d promised he’d get her out of here, even if it meant his own death.
And he wouldn’t fail her again.
“Blood.” Damien held the small vial eye level. A pocket of air in the silvery substance slithered along the glass as he tipped it from one side to the other.
“That doesn’t look like blood,” she said.
He’d known the next step of the test, but still fisted his hands when Damien pulled the dagger. His stomach back-flipped as her lips parted in surprise.
“Are you going to kill me?” She kicked herself back against the wall, her hands visibly shaking.
His heart lurched. The next few seconds meant more to him than his next breath. Every muscle in his body flexed in preparation, and he inhaled slowly. It took every ounce of control he owned not to kill Damien where he sat, but his plan would only work if the fiend believed he wasn’t a threat.
“Where is the Seal? This is your last cha
nce.” Damien set the tiny vial down beside him on the floor, the glass tinkling in the otherwise silent room.
She stared back at him, her irises clouded. He had no idea what kinds of thoughts were racing through her head, but he’d save her from the worst. He had to.
“All right then. Give me your right hand.”
“I’m not giving you a damn thing.”
Damien wrenched her hand away from her chest and placed the tip of the knife against her wrist.
Three.
The ache in his jaw intensified the longer he ground his teeth. He buried the urge to confiscate that blade and show the monster just how much hate could be released with a single swipe. “Let her go.”
“It’s simple. Just a cut. If you live through my test, things will improve around here. Fight, and I can’t promise what might happen.” The smell of copper and salt assaulted his nose as Damien slid the blade across her wrist.
Two.
She tried to fight, tried to pull her hand away, but their captor possessed strength no human could comprehend. She kicked recklessly and in vain.
One.
He bolted to his feet. Adrenaline surged through his veins. With a single pull, the zip tie at his wrist snapped, and he lunged.
Red flashed across Damien’s eyes just as Jacob collided into his rock hard chest. They hit the floor. Vdarra’s frantic attempts to escape barely registered as a fist slammed into his jaw. Pain ricocheted down his neck and the distraction proved to be all the fiend needed. The kick to his torso made his breath whoosh out and intensified his rage. He regained his balance and stepped back into the fight.
The bedroom door slammed open. Splinters of wood rebounded off the wall.
His wings fought for freedom as he faced the man filling the doorway. He swallowed hard. Not a man. Angel.
“Sorren!” Vdarra cried out.
Jacob whirled to see Damien had taken advantage of Sorren’s interruption. He’d applied the silvery substance from the vial to her wound.
Her Fallen Protector Page 5
