Tarnished Knight: Grimm's Circle, Book 4

by Shiloh Walker

Fragile?

  She looked shattered. Heartbroken.

  Her brown eyes stared into his and despite the anger that still burned in his gut, he found himself reaching up, skimming his fingers down her cheek. “What’s the matter, princess?” he murmured. “You didn’t look quite so sad earlier.”

  She reached up, but instead of knocking his hand away the way he’d expected, she just sighed, wrapped her fingers around his wrist and squeezed. “Nothing’s wrong, Jack. Nothing more than normal, at least.” Then, with some hint of her normal attitude, she cocked a brow and added, “Stop calling me princess.”

  She let go, moved to the table and settled down in the chair with easy, boneless grace. Her gaze moved to Will and she stared at him for a long moment before looking back at Jack. “You know this guy, I take it?”

  “Ah…yeah.” Jack shot Will a glance, but the man had his inscrutable mask in place and Jack had no idea what he was up to.

  “Hmm. Figures.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “Will, is there a reason you’re gracing us with your presence or did you just miss the pleasure of my company?”

  She smirked with the last bit and Will gave her a ghost of a smile.

  “Well, you’re being so charming, Persinette,” he murmured. “How can I resist?”

  She snorted and then sighed. “Stop worrying. I’m fine. Or I will be. Go on. You’ve got other…issues on your mind.”

  “Issues,” Will mused. “Yes. Issues.”

  Will still had that strange look in his eyes and although he said nothing, Jack felt the weight of his words slamming through him all over again.

  Have a care.

  What in the hell?

  In the blink between moments, Will disappeared.

  He barely noticed, but Perci gazed at the spot where Will had been, like she could almost see the echo of his passage.

  Could she, he wondered?

  Maybe she could have, except she wasn’t exactly too focused on the here and now.

  Her eyes looked so damned sad.

  Abruptly, the anger he’d felt drained away.

  Hauling the chair out, he spun it around and sat. He brought his arms up and rested his chin on the back, staring at her. The delicate lines of her face didn’t look any different than they had earlier. But there was a grief on her…pain. “You look miserable,” he said quietly.

  “You’re a real sweet-talker.” She gave him a whisper of a smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Anybody ever tell you that?”

  “What has you so sad?”

  I looked away. I couldn’t talk about this with him. And damn it, where was that vaunted self-control of mine? I should be able to look at him without him seeing all the misery and pain, without him knowing a damn thing I felt. I was good at hiding what I felt. Years of practice.

  Years that proved useless with him.

  Determined to distract him, I looked back at him. “How do you know Will?”

  “He knew my mother. And you haven’t answered me.”

  I blinked. “He knew your mother?” I repeated. Leaning forward, I peered at his face. “What do you mean he knew your mother?”

  He reached out and when he touched me, I felt the shock of it clear down to my toes. I would have leaned into that touch, happily, maybe even invited a deeper, more intimate touch. But he was more interested in toying with the silver chain wrapped around my neck.

  “I’ve seen this before,” he said quietly.

  “Seen…what? My necklace?”

  “Not yours. One like it.”

  My heart started to race. Somewhere deep inside I could feel things coiling tight, cold. My hands were sweating. “Will wears one.”

  Jack’s gaze swept up to meet mine.

  “Yeah. He does. But it wasn’t his.” He rubbed his thumb over the etched wings, and I saw grief in the soft, misty gray of his eyes.

  “Who was it, Jack?”

  “My mother,” he murmured. “She wore one just like this. Until the day she died.”

  I jerked away so hard the chair clattered to the floor and the chain broke. He was left holding my pendant and I snatched it away from him. “You lying son of a bitch. If she had one just like this, then she wouldn’t be dead.”

  I didn’t say it out loud, but we didn’t procreate either. He couldn’t have one of us for a mother.

  “Liar. You’re fucking lying,” I said, shaking my head at him.

  He lifted a brow. “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” I shoved a hand through my hair. What in the hell was I doing here? Had Will stuck me with some screwed-up head case that I was going to have to “guide” before he could be one of us? Why was he handing me this story?

  Maybe it’s not a story…he seems to know too much.

  I shot him a look. “Just like this?”

  “Exactly.”

  “There’s only one way she could have gotten one just like this. One way.”

  He shrugged. “Then I guess that’s how she got it. I never asked. She always had it. I never saw her without it.”

  “How old were you when she died?”

  His lashes flickered. “Almost thirteen,” he said, his voice gruff.

  I ached for him. It must have been almost twenty years, but the heart never forgot those we loved. “Thirteen…” I shook my head. Okay, there was another slim possibility. Maybe she’d taken him in when he was young—maybe she had been the one set intended to train him, and then she’d gotten in a fight she couldn’t win.

  We can die—it’s just not that easy to kill us. Maybe she just let him think she was his mom, although that didn’t settle well…

  “Are you sure she was your mother?”

  A grim smile twisted his lips. “Oh, yeah. She was my mother. Birth-mother, don’t go trying to find another explanation out of it.”

  He sounded certain of it—too certain. And I believed him.

  “Doesn’t make sense,” I muttered. None of it.

  “Why not?”

  I looked down at my pendant. “These…mean something.”

  He smirked at me. “I know what they mean, princess.”

  “Do you?”

  He stood and kicked a leg over the chair. I had the bizarre image of a man dismounting a horse—a man wearing tarnished armor, wielding a sword. Then the image changed and the armor became chain mail. I rubbed my eyes and the image altered yet again and I saw him in the garb I would have seen in the time when I had lived as a human.

  My knees buckled and I had to slam a hand against the wall to keep from falling.

  The face…it seemed all wrong. But something about his eyes…the way he moved, even the body…

  A shiver raced down my spine.

  I passed a hand over my eyes and then looked at Jack. “What do you know about the pendants, Jack? About…?”

  “About the Grimm?” he asked, his voice mocking. “Enough. Everything.”

  The Grimm—

  My heart knocked against my ribs. How did he know?

  His mother…?

  “Did your mother tell you about us?”

  “Shit, no. My mother never broke her vows and there are all sorts of promises they make you give—they don’t end when you give up your wings, do they, Perci?” he asked softly.

  Give up your wings…

  “She gave up her wings.”

  “Yes. She met my dad and fell in love with him—got knocked up with me. Somewhere along the way, my dad disappeared. I don’t know what happened, but I never knew him and it hurt her too much to talk about it, so I didn’t ask. I don’t know how long she had before she got pregnant with me, but I don’t think it was long. And she died before I was thirteen. She could have had eternity…and she died in so much fucking pain, she barely knew her own name.” Jack’s voice was so thick with bitterness it hurt to even listen to him.

  “I’m so sorry,” I murmured.

  “Yeah.” He closed his eyes. “Will was coming around before then. He’d always been coming aroun
d.”

  “Is he the one who told you about us?”

  “No.” Jack opened his eyes and stared at me. “Nobody told me, princess. I’ve always known. Always.”

  Then he stood and shoved the chair toward the table, violence barely restrained.

  Always.

  As he left the kitchen, his words echoed in my head.

  Always.

  Chapter Nine

  So much for trying to help her get over the pain she felt, Jack thought.

  Fragile.

  Shit.

  That woman wasn’t fragile. She might look a bit more…well, human, than normal, but she wasn’t fragile. Still, the pain he’d glimpsed in her eyes tore at him. He wanted to soothe…stroke, take it away.

  Liar.

  Shit, what had he expected, that she’d believed him? And why in the hell was he so angry? Jack didn’t know, but he was beyond furious. Beyond pissed and he unloaded on the heavy bag with unrestrained rage. He’d been pounding away for damn near an hour and his arms felt like lead, but he couldn’t stop.

  Liar.

  Yeah, probably seemed easier to think he was lying than to consider he might be telling the truth, he supposed.

  Abruptly, he realized he wasn’t alone.

  Without looking at her, he said, “Do us both a favor and just get the hell out of my house, princess.”

  “One of these days, you’ll get the point when I tell you not to call me that,” she said, sighing. But the heat was missing from her voice. “And I’m not leaving. In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m here for a reason.”

  “Yeah? You mean other than pissing me off?” He landed one last punch on the bag and then turned to stare at her. Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging them. He stalked over to the edge of the workout area he had installed in his garage, grabbed the towel and wiped his face off.

  Perci remained quiet. He shot her a glance and immediately wished he hadn’t. The look in those dark brown eyes was enough to lay him low.

  Fuck…that hunger just might stop his heart.

  He choked back a groan and looked away, throwing the towel down. Bracing his hands on the unpainted concrete wall, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. Don’t look at her. She can’t read emotion—just pain, and seriously, having your dick tied into a knot isn’t real pain. Is it?

  He heard the heavy bag’s chain rustle and he looked back, saw her standing next to it, watched as she stroked one hand down the worn leather.

  He wanted to see that hand stroking something else.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  She needed to get the hell out of here.

  “You and me both know you would knock that thing clear off the chain in one punch,” he said. He smirked at her. “And although I really don’t need to coddle my ego, I’d just as soon not watch a woman bust the bag. So let’s just not.”

  Perci smiled at him. Then, quicker than he could even track, she moved. That long, slender body moved up in the air, she kicked—jumping back kick, he thought, but damn she was fast. The bag went flying…and stayed on the chain. She caught it on the first backswing and smiled at him. “I know how to pull it. We learn that early on. Control. It’s important.”

  “Considering you could probably break me in half? Yeah. Important.” He tried another tactic. “I need a shower. So if you’re not going to get the hell out, can we chat when I’m done, princess?”

  Her lashes flickered over dark eyes and he sauntered over to her, reached up. He trailed one finger along her jaw line, watched as her eyes closed, as a breath shuddered out of her. “Unless you want to join me. Want to wash my back, princess?”

  Her lashes lifted and she stared at him, her gaze hot, heavy…and so fucking hungry.

  Backfire.

  His mind started to screech a warning as she closed the scant distance between them. “Sure, slick. I’ll wash your back…after.” Then she reached up, curled a hand around the back of his neck and pulled his head down to hers.

  As their mouths met, Jack realized this hadn’t quite been the outcome he’d been pushing for.

  She slid her hands up his sweaty sides and he tore his mouth away.

  “Stop it,” he muttered. “I need a damn shower and not that long ago, you invited me into the shower and then decided maybe we shouldn’t. If you weren’t up for it then, you aren’t up for it now.”

  Perci leaned in and licked him, stroking her tongue along the line of his neck like a little cat, and he shuddered. “I think I know if I’m feeling up for it or not. Come on, Jack. I think I can handle you.” She pushed up on her toes and murmured in his ear, “Unless you’re that convinced you can’t handle me.”

  She bit his earlobe and then eased back down, her breasts rubbing over his chest.

  Jack caught her arms and forced her back.

  “Stop it,” he snarled. “Unless you really want me on you, right here, right now…just stop it.”

  “Right here, right now?”

  I stared at him, my mouth going dry.

  Unless you really want me on you, right here, right now.

  Damn it, I couldn’t even explain how badly I wanted that.

  He glared at me, those misty gray eyes glinting and hot and hungry. Dark red flags of color rode on his cheekbones and his mouth was a sexy snarl that had me wanting to bite him.

  I think that was exactly what I was going to do too. This ache for him wasn’t going to go away. No matter what I did, and no matter what I said.

  Life is living, Perci. Even for us. Go live it.

  That was what Will had said to me, right before he sent me to this man who wouldn’t stay out of my thoughts. If I was supposed to start living, then damn it, why not start with him? I grabbed the hem of my shirt, pulled it off and let it fall to my feet.

  Jack’s eyes locked on my mostly naked chest and I think almost stopped breathing.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” he rasped.

  I reached behind me and undid the clasp of my bra. “Making it easy for you,” I said with a smile. “If you’re going to be on me, right here, right now, can’t we get the clothes out of the way?”

  He froze.

  As I reached for the zipper of my jeans, he stared at my fingers like he was mesmerized. I pushed them down and stepped out of them, but as I reached for panties, he swore and stepped forward, gripping my wrists in a tight, uncompromising grip.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” he repeated.

  I smiled. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Why?”

  Oh, now that was harder to answer…even though I knew the answer. I didn’t understand it, but I knew it. Quietly, I said, “Let go of my hands.”

  For a few seconds, Jack just stared at me, and then he let go slowly. I rested my hands on his waist and stared at how it looked. I was still so pale. I could stay out in the sun for days on end and I wouldn’t tan. Fortunately, I didn’t burn either.

  But I was so pale…his skin looked unbelievably dark by comparison, deep, swarthy and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat.

  Stroking my hands upward, I mused, “Do you know, the first time I looked at you, I think that was the first time I actually felt anything in years?”

  My hands were on his chest now, and I felt the way his heart banged against my hand, felt his reaction. I didn’t look at him though. Not at his face.

  We may not react to physical injuries the way mortals do…but our hearts, they are still all too human, and I don’t know how I’d handle it if he pulled away. I knew he wanted me, but wanting is easy…and it doesn’t necessarily mean much of anything.

  “I can fight anything you put in front of me, and not feel a damn thing,” I continued. “It doesn’t matter if I’m winning, if I’m losing, if I’ve got a hole in my gut the size of the Grand Canyon…I don’t feel it. It doesn’t matter if I’m this close to true death…and we can die. Just takes a whole hell of a lot to make it happen. But as close as I can come to death, I’ve been that close and it doesn’t t
ouch me. Not emotionally. Physical pain passes so fast. I almost welcome it, because at least I feel something. It’s the only time I’ve felt…in years.”

  His heart was racing now. So fast…so strong and so fast. I slid my hands higher and curled them over his shoulders.

  Finally, I made myself look into his eyes.

  “But then I saw you and I finally felt something else. And it sure as hell wasn’t pain.”

  That misty gray gaze burned. I caught the barest flicker of something…that familiar hunger, but also something else. It went deeper, burned hotter, brighter.

  But there was no time to process it.

  His hands curved around my waist and he pulled me close. The heat of his body all but scorched me. My feet left the ground as he lifted me up. One hand cradled the back of my head and his mouth was close…so damn close.

  “Be sure, Perci,” he whispered against my lips. “You damned sure you want this?”

  I nibbled his lower lip. “What do you think?”

  “And are you going to disappear when it’s over?” He skimmed his hands up, cupped my breasts in his hands. “Because I’m going to be pissed off if I wake up alone again.”

  “You won’t.” I hadn’t yet explained to him that I wasn’t going anywhere yet, and I wasn’t going to. Although maybe I should.

  I pressed my mouth to his and caught his lower lip between my teeth. “I’m waiting…”

  And then I wasn’t waiting anymore.

  For a mortal, he moved damned fast. So fast, the room spun around me as he turned and pressed my bare back against the bare concrete wall. Cold and hard, it was a shock against my system, especially compared to his heat.

  His chest, wide and hot and slicked with sweat, crushed against my breasts. His mouth, hungry and hot and demanding, ate at mine. And his hands were everywhere.

  I gripped his shoulders, certain that I could catch my breath if he would just give me a second…

  He started to kiss a burning, blazing trail down my chin and I sucked in a breath—yes, I could breathe. But then he went to his knees, catching my breasts in his hands and plumping them together, squeezing them, pinching my nipples. Each touch, each stroke…so much pleasure. Too much pleasure.

  I fisted my hands in his dark hair, tried to hold on, tried to keep my balance.