Darkness Arisen

by Stephanie Rowe

  She pulled out of Ian’s grasp and hurried toward her stash of clothes on the beach. The third warrior hadn’t moved. He was still standing there silently, watching her, and she noticed that he didn’t have brands on his forearms. So, not a Calydon. Then what was he? What kind of male would the elite Order of the Blade allow on a mission with them? Her skin prickled as she bent to pick up her clothes, then she froze when he crouched beside her, his shoulder against hers.

  “Where is Flynn?” he asked without preamble.

  She stared at him, her heart starting to pound at the mention of the man who had betrayed her. The man who had once been her best friend, her only friend, who had killed her two months ago. “I don’t know.” She looked quickly down the beach, suddenly nervous that Flynn had found her again, but she saw only empty sand.

  “I tracked him here.” The man leaned closer toward her, his gaze intense. The green glow in his eyes was getting stronger, and she felt the air temperature begin to rise. Was he making it change? What was he? “You have Flynn’s blood in your system,” he said. “You and he are connected. So, where is he?”

  “His blood is in my body?” Fear congealed in her belly. “What are you talking about?”

  “Vaughn.” Ian’s mace was suddenly at the man’s throat. “You need to back off. You’re giving off a bad vibe right now.”

  For the second time in five minutes, Alice felt relief as Ian stepped between her and another man. Why was she feeling so many threats right now, and how come Ian seemed to be able to give her peace? It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t be able to happen. She shouldn’t be able to get peace from anyone. It was forbidden and impossible, at least for her. She was a special angel. For her, there were more rules, more limitations, and so much further to fall.

  But there was no mistaking that she felt safer with Ian between her and the other men. Dammit. She had no idea what was going on, and she hated feeling out of control.

  Vaughn didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned closer to her, ignoring the trickle of blood running down his neck from Ian’s mace. “Where is Flynn?” he asked again.

  “I don’t know,” she shot back. “Why would I know?”

  “Because he claimed you.”

  Ian growled, and nausea churned through Alice. “Another man claimed me?” The pressure was mounting from all sides, from all these men, Alice grabbed her underwear and yanked them on, keeping her body hidden beneath the long shirt as she did so. “Flynn hasn’t claimed me. He was my best friend until he killed me. I hope to God he doesn’t find me again—”

  “He will.” Vaughn stood up, giving her space as he surveyed their surroundings. “He’ll always be able to find you since you carry his blood, just like I tracked you here, thinking it was him.” His gaze fixated on the horizon. “He’ll be back for you, and I’ll be waiting.”

  Alice stared after him as he walked away, striding slowly across the beach as he scanned the area. Chills ran down her spine, and she swallowed. “That’s how you found me?” She looked up at Ian, who had sheathed his mace back into the brand on his arm once Vaughn had left. “He tracked me?”

  “Yeah.” Ian picked up her shirt from the sand and shook it off. “I owe him. I wasn’t getting anywhere on my own, but I gotta say, it makes me a little cranky to think of another man’s blood in your system. I’m not good with shit like that.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Alice grabbed her tank top, flinching when her fingers brushed against Ian’s, shocking her. “Why are you hunting me?” She checked the sky again, but no clouds.

  “Hunting you?” He narrowed his eyes. “Is that what it feels like to you? You think I’m a threat?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” Flustered by his intensity and her response to it, Alice turned away and tugged his shirt over her head. She tossed it over her shoulder at him without turning around, then pulled her tank top on. The navy blue material was soft and dry against her, and the built-in bra made her feel safer and more protected. She quickly donned her shorts, then carefully zipped the pearl into the front pocket, making sure it was secure. Then she shoved her feet into the flip flops. She grabbed her car keys, clenching them in her fist as she turned back to him. “Listen, Ian, I don’t know you at all and—”

  “Stop it!” Ian grabbed her upper arms, yanking her against him so her breasts were against his chest. “You’re killing me, Alice. I need you to remember me. I need it.”

  The instant her nipples brushed against him, hot desire flooded her. Not just desire. Need. Yearning. A sensual lust that crawled like hot lava over her skin. It shouldn’t be happening. No man could break through her singular connection to the angelic realm and make her respond to him…and yet there was no way to deny her response. Real fear rippled through her at the realization of how easily this man could destroy everything that mattered to her, including the life of the only person on this earth that she loved.

  “Alice. Stop resisting me. It won’t work. There’s no out.”

  She stared at him, seeing his commitment to claiming her. He would never let her go, not until he’d destroyed everything. No way. No chance. It didn’t matter how fantastic it felt to be kissed by him, to feel responses so human and amazing. It wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t risk it.

  Ian’s eyes narrowed in warning, as if he sensed she was about to make a break for it. “Alice—”

  “Leave me alone!” She tore herself out of Ian’s grasp and sprinted for the ocean, for the water that was her only chance to find Catherine, away from the man who could destroy everything that mattered to her.

  Everything.

  Chapter Four

  And here we go again…

  The moment Alice cut Ian off, the damned curse came roaring back, ready to party. Champagne and streamers flew as the “get Ian to kill himself” celebration launched into full gear, a twelve-piece band breaking into a blistering rendition of the “stab yourself in the heart” polka.

  Because she hadn’t just walked away. Nope, she’d severed their emotional and mental connections as well, leaving him stranded worse than a gnat in the middle of a raging forest fire.

  Since Ian had softened his shields so he could connect enough with her to save her life, he now had no safeguards to prop him up when she cut him off. Like a pathetic wuss, he had no answer for the emptiness that assaulted him. Virulent and poisonous, it was as if someone had jammed Ry’s machete into his gut and was twisting it around just for shits and giggles.

  He did not have time for this crap. Really. He didn’t. Ian fisted his hands as he tried to summon the internal walls that would protect him from the destructive emotions that were toasting his anticipated demise. Even though he rebelled against the despair pouring through him, it came anyway, tearing apart his carefully erected protections with the force of a tsunami shredding a defenseless beach. “Alice!” Her name tore from him, ripping the last shreds of his control and thrusting him ruthlessly into the emotional torment of love wrested from the deepest of souls.

  Ian lunged forward, trying to catch her as she raced down the beach, but the curse slammed into him, throwing him to his knees, like he was some minion genuflecting to the power of death. Jesus, he was getting tired of this. The curse hadn’t gotten to him this badly in months, and yet it had brought him down three times in twenty minutes now that he was near Alice?

  Things were definitely not heading in the right direction.

  The voice that had killed his ancestors began to swirl though his mind with its annoyingly familiar refrain. You can’t survive without her. It’s too much. Too lonely. You must die.

  The image of the graveyard that housed all his male ancestors flashed through Ian’s mind and he swore. Shit. He was not in the mood to be buried right now. Seriously. “I appreciate the offer, but it doesn’t fit in with my plans,” he gritted out, fighting to keep a sense of humor, a sense of perspective, a sense of humanity in the face of such debilitating loss.

  She’s gone, the voice taunted. She’s dead
. You lost her. Alice is gone.

  “She’s not gone! She’s in the ocean twenty yards away, for God’s sake. I know it. You know it. So leave me the hell alone.” But despite his words, agonizing loneliness filled Ian like he was some sorry-assed, love-struck sap. All he could think about was Alice’s green eyes, the depth of pain and fear in her expression when he’d held her as she’d died. Three times she’d died in his arms, taken despite the fact that her own protector had been standing over her. And now she was heading off on her own again, no doubt to another death, because that seemed to be how the woman liked to fill her days. How many times was she going to die?

  You failed to keep her safe. You suck.

  Suck? He sucked? What the hell was that? But he knew it was true. He’d failed to keep her safe. Failed. It was his fault she’d died. It was his fault she’d suffered. It was his failure to fulfill his duty. What kind of a man was he, if he couldn’t keep his own soul mate alive? The familiar emotions of shame and despair spread through him, like a powerful poison eating away at him, and he swore, steeling himself against the onslaught he knew was coming.

  He had to be stronger than the curse. It was getting old, so fucking old, and he was getting tired of being brought down by it. Ian fought to regain control of his emotions. If he died, if he killed himself, he would leave Alice unprotected. Alice needed him. Without him, Alice would not come back from the dead this time. He repeated the same litany of reasons why he needed to stay alive, how it was his duty, how his reason for being was to keep her safe, but this time, it wasn’t working. The despair was getting stronger instead of weaker.

  He was too vulnerable to her. He’d dropped too many damn shields, and he was treading in that dangerous position his father had been in before he’d killed himself—

  “Pull your shit together, Fitzgerald!” Ryland swung a piece of driftwood the size of a telephone pole at Ian’s head.

  “Shit!” Ian raised his arm to block it, and the log slammed into his forearm with enough force to shatter every bone, if he were human. Conveniently, he wasn’t. As his arm made contact with the wood, a loud crack split the night, and the log snapped in half, breaking harmlessly around Ian instead of crushing his skull. His arm throbbing and his fingers bordering on numb, Ian scowled at his partner. “Son of a bitch, Ryland. What the hell was that?”

  Ryland shrugged, his eyes a bottomless pit of anger and violence. “We don’t have time for you to lose your shit over a woman. I figured that saving your own life would get your priorities back in line.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You feeling better now? You look better. Not so sweaty and weepy.”

  “I’m not weepy.” Adrenaline racing through him, Ian leapt to his feet and slammed his fist on Ry’s shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

  “My pleasure. Always happy to help. Kinda enjoyed trying to kill you, to be honest.”

  Ian eyed his teammate. “Dude, you’re so fucked.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Ry raised his brows. “You gotta ditch that curse, though, Fitz. You won’t always have me around to try to take you out and trigger those self-preservation instincts.”

  “The curse can go to hell.” But Ian knew it wouldn’t. The curse was an unstoppable, persistent little bugger. It was irreversible, except by Warwick Cardiff, the black magic wizard who’d tossed the curse at his family in the first place. The spell had dragged every one of his ancestors into the grave, their will to live destroyed by the loss of the women they loved.

  For six hundred years, Ian had fended off the need to slit his own throat, and he wasn’t going to start sticking his fingers in electric sockets just because he’d finally found the woman his soul was meant to connect with. Yeah, he wanted her. Yeah, he needed her. Yeah, he was completely at her mercy every time she turned those green eyes in his direction. So what?

  It was time to man-up and be the emotional island he was meant to be. Ian fought down his need for her and his connection to her. He called upon the survival tools that his father had taught him to keep from becoming too emotionally connected with any woman.

  Regret and loss filling him even as he did it, Ian blocked from his mind the desperate need in Alice’s green eyes, the softness of her skin beneath his palms, the beauty of her kisses that had awakened in him something that he hadn’t dared access his whole life. Resistance surged through him as he tried to separate himself from her, a desperate need to keep the connection with her open, to carve every memory of her onto his soul forever.

  Shit! It wasn’t working. Why in the hell did she have to be so damned addictive?

  He had to be like his father, before he’d finally succumbed. He had to shut her out. Ian looked down at the ring on his left index finger. He was wearing his father’s signet ring, which was decorated with the Fitzgerald family crest and emblazoned with the symbol of the Order of the Blade. Their mission was to save the world from rogue Calydons, warriors who had turned their immense power against innocents. No one else would ever fall victim to the Order, no one but rogue warriors, but against them, the Order was ruthless. They had to be. The lives of many depended on the Order’s ability and willingness to sacrifice a single life.

  Ian took a deep breath, drawing his shoulders back as he allowed the significance of the black onyx ring to settle over him. After six hundred years of keeping it locked away because he hadn’t earned the right to wear it, Ian had finally put it on a month ago. Remembering his debt of honor had been the only thing that had enabled him to survive Alice’s death the last time.

  And now, he needed it to survive her being alive, because it was a hell of a lot harder to keep himself distant from her when he could feel her very soul with every breath he took. Shit.

  He’d thought finding her would be his key to staying alive. He’d figured that his instinct to protect her would give him enough incentive to fight off the curse because he couldn’t wave his manly weapons and beat down her assailants if he were lying belly up in a graveyard.

  Yeah, well, that plan had worked out great. He’d managed to find her, but as it turned out, her impact on him was too strong. He understood now why his ancestors had all died from the curse. They’d been brave, powerful leaders who had crumbled. The truth was, the power of a woman over a Fitzgerald male was just too damned much. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, still damp from his dive in the ocean. “I can take down entire armies of rogue Calydons, but I’m no match for a green-eyed siren who weighs a buck twenty and kisses like the devil.”

  Ryland grinned. “She’s one hell of a woman. All angels are. They’re more than we are, that’s for sure.”

  “Yeah, I’m getting that now.” Ian realized now that it had been a mistake to find her. A huge mistake. He’d been better off when she’d been invisible to him. Now? It gave the curse too much ammunition.

  Ryland raised his brows. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He shook out his arms, refusing to turn toward the water to see what she was doing. “I’m good.”

  The most deadly and almost-rogue member of the Order of the Blade shot him a skeptical look as he folded his arms over his chest. “Are you? Because you still look like shit.”

  “Thanks. You do, too.”

  A brief grin flashed over Ryland’s face. “That’s because I’m a totally fucked-up bastard. I’m okay with it. I got no girl to impress.” He jerked his chin toward the ocean. “She’s getting away, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Against his instincts, Ian glanced toward the water. Alice was swimming hard out into the open ocean. The waves were rough, whitecaps rising high out of the water. Further away from her, the water was quiet, but all around her, it was rough, as if the ocean had decided to make her way a little more difficult.

  Damn. What was it with this woman and the ocean?

  Not that he could let it matter to him. His only chance was to figure out how to stop worrying about her, and divest himself of the need to take responsibility for her. Or to imagine her naked. Or to think of k
issing her. Or to recall what it felt like to make love to her.

  Shit. He was really not doing a good job at forgetting the girl, was he? Ian let out his breath, steeling himself against the sight of her putting herself in danger. His happy place was a lot harder to find now that Alice had gotten to him. “Figures I had to get paired with a woman who won’t bond with me and who keeps trying to get herself killed.” If she’d been uncomplicated and simply fallen into his arms and let him keep her safe, his plan would have worked. Finding her would have helped him.

  But she was not the woman he needed, and it was a mistake to hook up with her.

  “She’s not trying to get herself killed,” Ry replied. “She’s on a mission. I admire that. And the fact she thinks you’re a pain in the ass she doesn’t want around? She’s a smart woman, seems to me.”

  “You’re the pain in the ass.” Ian narrowed his eyes as he watched her lithe body stroking through the water. There was a focused determination in her movements, and her gaze was fixed on one of the huge black rocks jutting out of the water a few hundred yards from the beach. He shifted restlessly as she neared it, willing her to make it safely to the rock, willing himself not to dive into the water and chase after her again.

  He had to let her go.

  Ryland was on alert beside him, and Ian knew his teammate was equally primed to go after her if she needed help. “She’s sure a firestorm,” Ry said. “I’m digging on her.”

  “Shut up.” Because getting jealous would really help his mental state.

  Ian ground his jaw as Alice reached the base of the rock. She dug her fingers into the porous volcanic rock and hauled herself out of the water. The muscles in her delicate arms flexed as she crawled up the steep incline, her hair streaming behind her. “I buried her three times. I watched the demons take her soul. It’s not easy to forget that.”