Darkness Arisen

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Darkness Arisen Page 2

by Stephanie Rowe


  Her body jerked suddenly, and her eyes opened. She looked right at him, and her eyes widened in shock. The impact of meeting her gaze reverberated through him, stripping the breath from his lungs. Her eyes were still a radiant green that reached right into his core. She hadn’t changed.

  He had to save her. There was no other option.

  Alice. Now. As he said the words, he thrust all the strength he could into their connection, trying to empower her to fight the current trying to take her, infusing his life force into her depleted body, past her mental shields that had fallen with her being so close to death. Don’t block me, Alice. Not this time.

  Her body jerked, and for a split second, she recoiled from him, fear flashing across her face.

  Hellfire, woman! I’m not the one you need to fear. He couldn’t keep the snarl out of his voice, the frustration of two months of searching for her, the raw desperation of his need to stop her from dying this time. After having her die in his arms three times, the fourth time was going to be a charm even if he had to be a complete bastard to make it happen. Give me your fucking hand, now.

  Alice blinked, and then she moved her right hand, her fingers stretching toward his, even as she kept her left hand clenched in a fist.

  Triumph rushed through him. Yes! He gave a final thrust forward, and their fingers touched. The jolt that leapt through him was instantaneous, just like it had been the last time they’d connected. Victory rushed through him. He’d found her. Son of a bitch. He’d found her again. He grabbed her hand, locking his fingers around her wrist as she tightened her grip on him.

  Ian? Her voice was tentative and faint. Unsure. Testing his name as if she wasn’t sure it was right. As if she weren’t certain he was real. But son of a bitch, hearing her voice in his head again was like a choir of angels singing a fucking chorus of hallelujahs.

  Yeah, it’s me. He shifted his position and began to swim backwards, away from the chasm trying to suck her down. Beneath them, the black shadows swirled restlessly, not pursuing them. Of course they weren’t going after her. They only got her if she died, and she wasn’t going to die, was she? No chance of that. With her hand locked securely in his, Ian felt the grip of his curse begin to fade, defeated momentarily by the fact his woman was alive and with him. Did you miss me, sweetheart?

  Miss you? Alice began to kick again, her lithe body moving fiercely against the undertow as she committed to going with him. I thought you were a dream.

  What? She didn’t sound overwhelmed with joy to discover he wasn’t a figment of her imagination. What the hell was up with that? You thought you imagined me? A dream? He’d made the most incredible love to her and she thought he was only her imagination? I am definitely insulted that you don’t remember me. I gave you some of my best stuff—

  A violent torrent of water rushed over them, thrusting them down toward the chasm. He swore as the force of the current swept them both up, his strength overwhelmed by the sheer fury of the ocean. He thrust more effort into his kicks, but the current still hauled them both down toward the pit.

  There was a wail, a high-pitched scream as if the ocean itself was a scorned woman being murdered, and then a burst of cold water wrenched Alice from his grasp, catapulting her ruthlessly toward the chasm.

  Anguish ricocheted through him as she slipped out of his reach again, and he saw the dark shadows of demons rise to take her. The curse rose with opportunistic speed, shoving its way through his shields with lethal determination. She is lost. You have failed. Die with her.

  For a split second, the curse was too powerful, and Ian swore, gripping his head against the onslaught of doom and despair trying to take him, trying to force him to give up, to suck him into such hopelessness that the only option was to surrender to death and kill himself.

  For months, he’d fought the despair, keeping his shields up as he’d searched for Alice. But he’d had to open himself completely to connect with her this time, which gave him no defenses against the terror of her death. It was too late to block their connection, and the curse was taking advantage, preying on his need for her. He knew instantly that his only chance was to open his connection with her even further, to plunge into the very thing that made him vulnerable, and to use his need to save her life as a fuel to keep himself alive.

  Get out of my head, he ordered the curse, keeping his gaze focused on Alice, opening himself to her, trying to connect with something stronger than the curse that had killed every one of his male ancestors.

  Alice needs me, he reminded himself, quickly spinning words and truths that would empower him against the curse. She would die without him. She. Will. Die.

  Denial roared through him, as the primal instinct of a Calydon warrior to protect his woman exploded to life. Rage tore him from the grasp of the curse, and he spun toward the chasm, trying to right himself against the raging undertow. He stroked desperately against the water, but he was too far away from her, with nothing to leverage off of to propel himself. All the strength and quickness that made him so deadly on land was useless against the rage of the ocean. It was too late. Those few seconds he’d spent fighting off the curse again had given death the head start it needed. Ian roared with fury as he watched Alice get sucked past the rim of the chasm. Alice!

  You stupid bastard. The voice of his teammate, Ryland Samuels, cut through the despair trying to consume him. We don’t have time to fish you out of there. Don’t you have a fucking angel to save? If you let her die, I will carve you up myself. There was a loud crack and black light flashed from above the surface, and then Ryland’s steel machete was streaking through the water, leaving behind a trail of foamy bubbles. Catch a ride before my woman dies. I threw the damn thing as hard as I could, but it won’t keep up the speed long in the water.

  Your woman? Fuck that. She’s mine. Get your own damn woman. Ian lunged for the machete as it passed by him. His fingers closed on the engraved handle, and he grunted as it yanked him forward, nearly ripping his shoulder out of its socket. He ducked his head against the current to cut down on drag, turning just enough to keep Alice in his range of vision as she fell into the crevasse. He was gaining on her. Getting closer. Closing the gap. Come on! He reached for her mind, but there was no connection. He couldn’t access her again. What the hell? She was his soul mate. Why was she so inaccessible to him?

  Closer and closer. Almost there—

  He reached the rim of the crevasse. Only yards away—

  The machete began to slow down, and Ian let go of it as Alice began to pull away from him again. No! He called out his mace and hurled it past her. It slammed into the side of the crevasse just below Alice, its handle sticking out from the wall of the cliff. Alice crashed into it, like a tree branch breaking her fall. She bounced off it, and for a moment, his heart stopped. Then she grabbed it, locking her arms and legs around it, using his mace to resist the pull of the chasm.

  Her hair was still streaming toward the bottom of the chasm, and the mace was bending downward, barely able to resist the force that was pulling them. Ian had a second, maybe two, to make it happen. He put on a burst of speed, swimming as hard as he could toward Alice, keeping his gaze fixed on his mace. Calculating how long he had until it was torn out of the wall.

  Now! A split second before it ripped out, he threw his second mace. It hit right below Alice, and as the first mace tore away from the wall, she landed on the one he’d just thrown. She clung to it, her entire body wrapped around it as she fought against the sheer strength trying to suck her down. Black clouds swirled around her, demons waiting until she broke, so they could take her soul.

  This time she’s mine, Ian growled as he called back the mace that was freefalling into the chasm. It slammed into his hand just as he reached Alice. He smashed it into the wall, anchoring himself, then grabbed Alice, wrapping his arm around her waist just as his other mace was torn out from under her. She threw herself around him, her lean limbs wrapping around his neck and waist, her face buried against his chest
. Her naked body plastered against him.

  Jesus. For a split second, he couldn’t move. He was overwhelmed by the shock of feeling her body against his. The heat from her body penetrated his clothes, and her skin was soft and vulnerable beneath his arm. The strength of her hold on him was riveting. It felt so right the way she was holding onto him. This was it. This was what he’d been pursuing for so long. Alice. In his arms—

  She slipped slightly in his grasp, the movement jerking him back to the present and the force of the current still pulling on her. Shit. What the hell was wrong with him? He was a warrior, and this was battle, not time for a little nookie.

  Ian immediately called back his still-falling mace. He sheathed it into his arm, beneath the brand that matched it. One arm was still locked around Alice, and his other hand was gripping the handle of the mace he’d jammed so deeply into the wall of the cliff, anchoring them against the forces trying to pull Alice downward.

  He quickly took stock of his surroundings, assessing his best exit. With one arm wrapped around Alice, he could use only one weapon to get them out. The pull on her was extreme, and he could feel it working on him as well. Above him loomed a hundred-foot cliff that he’d have to climb before he’d reach the top of the chasm, let alone get back to the surface.

  Shit. These were not optimal circumstances, even for him.

  His Order of the Blade training would demand he choose his own life over hers if the choice had to be made, in order to fulfill his oath to trade the life of an innocent when necessary to save the greater good. The Order deemed all its members as critical for the protection of the greater good, so everything had to be sacrificed to keep the individual Order members alive. He was honor-bound to save himself instead of her, but the male within him disagreed big time. No chance would he let his woman die while he swam for freedom like some pansy-assed wuss who couldn’t take care of his mate.

  He had to make a move, and fast. His lungs were tight from holding his breath for so long, but he knew he still had time before he needed to surface. But Alice? He suddenly realized he didn’t know what kind of powers she had. How bound was she by ordinary human-type limitations? Alice. Do you need to breathe?

  She didn’t lift her head, and he realized she hadn’t heard him.

  Shit. She’d shut him out. Once they got out of this mess, he was going to have to make it clear that jamming their mental connection was not a good plan when they were fighting for their lives. And how in the hell was his soul mate capable of shutting him out anyway? It shouldn’t even be possible, and that realization made a shimmer of foreboding echo through him. What if he couldn’t claim her? What if she was within his reach, but never ever his?

  The idea made pulses of fear ripple violently, and the curse reverberated through him. Shit. Maybe he would have been better off not finding her…

  Too late now.

  He had her, and he was keeping her alive. Alice. Keeping his grip tight on both her and the mace lodged in the wall, he shrugged his shoulder, trying to communicate with her. At his nudge, she looked up. Her eyes were wide with terror.

  He met her gaze, drilling into her mind. Do you need to breathe?

  Her eyes widened, and he knew she’d heard him in her mind. Satisfaction and relief coursed through him. Yeah, that was the way it was supposed to be.

  She nodded desperately.

  I can breathe for you. Her gaze went to his mouth, and sudden heat radiated through him as he recalled exactly what her mouth tasted like. The sinful softness of her lips. The passion that simmered inside her, buried so deeply that he knew it wasn’t ever supposed to come out…but he’d accessed it anyway.

  Raw, intense physical need burned through him, and desire pulsed at him. She swallowed, nervousness flickering across her face, and he laughed softly. Sweetheart, trust me, I want to ravish you, but first I want to get out of this damn sinkhole. Breathing first. Sex later. But even as he said it, lust coursed through him, thick and dangerous, and he knew that he was lying. He burned for her so badly he’d take her right then and there if he knew she wouldn’t drown in the process.

  Alice hesitated, then nodded her assent, her gaze searching his. In those green eyes, he saw fear and more than a hint of desire. But there was something else in there too. A fierce determination to do whatever it took to survive. Her will to survive was stronger than her fear of who he was. Respect flashed through him, a connection, because he called on that same survival instinct every single day to fight off the curse and live another day. Suddenly, offering to help her breathe was no longer simply a chance to ravish those decadent lips of hers.

  It became so much more than that.

  It became about preserving a spirit that was fighting to live. That was what he was all about. That mission defined the very essence of who he was, and what he’d been doing for six hundred years: protecting others. And now, to protect the woman he was meant to be with? It was what he was born to do. You will live, Alice. He tightened his grip on her and lowered his head toward hers. Satisfaction thrummed through him when she raised her face to his, entrusting herself into his protection, exactly how it was supposed to be. I will keep you safe.

  Then he took her mouth with his, and offered her life.

  Chapter Two

  Alice was too panicked about drowning to worry about the fact that Ian’s lips were about to be on hers. Her head was spinning, and her lungs were burning so badly she could barely think. All she wanted was air. Oxygen. Life. If Ian’s kiss meant she had a chance for all that, then she was all on board. It would be a salvation, not a sensual decadence.

  Still fisting the pearl of Lycanth in her left hand, she raised her face to his and accepted his offer.

  The moment his lips met hers, everything changed. Unbelievable warmth filled her. A burst of air raced through her, inflating her lungs like a gift from the heavens. His kiss was soft and tender, his lips a seductive caress that seemed to strip away all her defenses and catapult her into a place of safety and well-being. Her muscles shuddered with relief, and her heart seemed to expand in her chest. The agony in her lungs dissipated, and the muscles in her chest released their tight hold. The relief of being able to breathe was incredible. A gift. Somehow, he was filling her lungs with oxygen, or at least making them not need oxygen any more. She didn’t understand, and a ripple of unease pricked at her. How are you doing this?

  Don’t fight me. Ian’s voice was a caress in her mind, nothing like the angry orders he’d barked at her before. It wastes oxygen if you fight me. You can make this easy, sweetheart.

  Tears filled her eyes at his tenderness, at the gentle coaxing in his voice, at the intoxicating sensation of his kiss. Memories flooded her mind now, images of the time she’d met him before, the last time she’d been with him. She recalled the way he’d kissed her: not a kiss of life-giving tenderness, but a raging possession of heat and lust that had almost torn her apart. How could she have forgotten how he’d stoked all that desire in her, along with all the other emotions she wasn’t supposed to be able to have? How he’d made her come alive with a fierce, raging intensity that ripped her from her cocoon of isolation and hurled her ruthlessly into a vortex of passion, fire, and life.

  She’d forgotten all that. All of it. Until his kiss. Until his whispered caress. Until this moment.

  When she’d first seen him coming toward her in the ocean moments ago, all she’d remembered was that he’d been there when she’d died three times. As he’d reached out for her, he’d seemed to be death incarnated, trying to kill her for the final time. For one terrifying moment, she’d been certain, so certain, that he was death finally coming to claim her…until she’d heard his voice in her mind. Until that rough and tender sound had filled her with a yearning so strong that it had obliterated all fear.

  Yes, he whispered as he deepened the kiss, as his tongue flicked against hers, igniting a spark of desire that seemed to simmer through her. Like that. Let me in, Alice.

  His reassuring warmt
h began to flow through her, a heat that chased away the cold of the ocean, the iciness of fear. She became aware of the strength of his body against hers. The steel core of his torso, the unyielding muscles in his arm where he had her locked down, the raw, untamed masculinity pouring off him. The button on the fly of his jeans was rough against her bare stomach.

  His lips were soft and hot against hers, moving in a tantalizing rhythm that stripped all resistance from her. His tongue a seductive master, coaxing her response in a decadent invasion that made her want more. His kiss was more than a kiss. It was the offering of life, not just in that moment, but so much more. Her liberation? Her hope? Her future? Or…was he merely the illusion of safety, obscuring a threat that would result in her death for a fourth and final time?

  Sudden fear congealed in her belly. Any man who could invoke such a response with his kisses was dangerous to her. And he’d been present every time she’d died. What was he really? Her salvation, her doom, or something else? What was she doing kissing him and entrusting herself to him? This was risky on so many levels—

  Hey, hey, hey, he said softly, his arm tightening around her back, crushing her breasts against his chest, making her nipples ache with need. Don’t pull back. Think good thoughts. Like how my mouth-to-mouth is better than any other guy’s kiss… no, fuck that. Don’t think of anyone else’s kiss. That’s a crappy idea.

  She almost burst out laughing at his disgruntled tone, her laughter chasing away the fear that had been building in her. She realized she was in no position to be saying no to this man, not right now. Ian was saving her life, and heaven knew she pretty much sucked at saving herself. The larger threat he represented would just have to be dealt with later, when there was enough air around for her to breathe on her own. You’re jealous of another man kissing me?

  Shit, yeah. You might not remember what happened between us, but sex of that magnitude has an impact on a man. His mouth tightened on hers, and suddenly, it became more than an offering of air. It became the kiss of a man who wanted to possess, seduce, and devour the woman who was naked in his arms.

 

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