“Doesn’t it affect you? Keeping it like that?”
“I wasn’t the one that struck the deal with Omi. The deal probably fell through once Brock was killed, and the dagger became simply that. A beautiful dagger, no powers or deals attached.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am sure.” He offered me a tired grin. “Do you really think I would do anything that might bring harm to the creed?”
The memory of him rushing out of the hotel in Wichita to keep the demons off Victor and Micah came to mind. And after being attacked and almost killed, he had come to us, even knowing there were more demons with us.
I smiled, feeling silly. “You wouldn’t.”
He smiled back. “See, you know me, but I appreciate the concern. I would probably have worried about it, if you were the one with it.”
“I know. Sorry about that.” I patted his hand. “Well, I’m going to let you rest.”
“As if I needed more rest.” He shifted his weight, trying to adjust his pillows, and ended up cringing in pain again. “Perhaps I do.”
I chuckled. “Good night, Morgan.”
“Night, Nad.”
I exited his bedroom, closed the door, and leaned against it. I truly felt silly. How could I have worried about Morgan? He was on our side. I knew he was, and he would always be.
23
Next morning Keisha woke me early as promised, and we trained all day.
“Like that,” Keisha said, approving of my stance. She threw herself at me, raising her wooden sword over my head, but I whirled around, almost as fast as she moved, and struck my wooden sword on her back. She groaned and laughed. “Nice!”
She reached behind her back and made a face.
“Was it too strong?”
“No, no. It was great.” She stretched her arms over her head, shook her shoulders, and took her stance. “Again.”
“Wait. It’s past four in the afternoon. How about a break?” We hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and even that had been a light snack. I was starving.
“One more time, then a break.”
“Fine,” I muttered. I was tired and hungry. My tummy would appreciate a snack right now. However, Miss Keisha wanted one more fight. Fine. I would give it to her.
This time I didn’t spin around her, but I ducked under her sword striking it with my own, hard and fast, making her lose her grip, and as her sword fell on the floor, mine leveled at her throat.
“Wow, you’re getting good at this.”
I smiled, proud of myself.
“Indeed.”
Losing the smile, I turned to the door. Micah was there, impeccable and handsome as always, watching us. Oddly, he was wearing sweatpants almost as tight as his jeans, a thermal shirt, and sneakers—clothes I never thought I would see him wearing, even if they were all black, of course. His eyes were intent on me, and that alone disconcerted me.
“How long have you been there?”
“For a while,” he said, stepping into the room.
Keisha bowed to him. “My Lord.”
“Keisha, why don’t you take a break?” Micah picked up the wooden sword from the floor. “I can practice with Nadine for a while.”
“I’m okay with Keisha,” I said.
He turned to me. “You’re used to her moves, darling. You need to practice with someone you never fought before.”
Without a word, Keisha bowed and left the room as if it was on fire. Traitor.
I scrunched my nose. “You know what? I need a break too.”
“After we go a round,” he said, pinning me with his eyes.
Micah took off his shirt.
I was about to argue some more, but that was lost the moment his shirt fell on the floor. I tried not to stare, but it was hard. Too hard. A heat wave washed over me, and I was sure my cheeks were red. “What are you doing?”
His abs and his chest were sculpted perfectly. Just like a god should be. His tattoos seemed strategically placed, to emphasize his flawless body. Damn, he couldn’t be more gorgeous or more perfect if he tried. It was unfair really. The other creatures of this Earth, the other lesser gods, the other humans had nothing on him. I could only do so much not to drool over him.
“The shirt will restrict my movements,” he said, quickly touching the pendant of his necklace.
Pushing back the feelings flooding my senses, I put on a blank mask and glanced at his legs. “And the pants won’t?”
I smacked my hand over my mouth. Smooth, Nadine. The pants had nothing to do with it. Besides he was wearing sweatpants, and they wouldn’t restrict any of his moments. Though they were a little on the tight side …
He put his hands over the waist of his pants, flashing me a teasing grin. “If you want me to take them off too, all you need to do is ask.”
I swallowed. “That’s not what I meant.”
He leaned into me and whispered in my ear. “Relax, darling.”
Easy for him to say. How could I relax if I was to fight a god? A half-naked god?
He positioned himself five feet from me and raised his wooden sword. Ready to fight.
Focusing on a dark stain on the floor because really, if I looked at him for too long, I was done for. My heart would be done for.
I exhaled and lifted my sword.
We engaged.
Fighting Micah was a surprise. He was fast and elegant, and several times I had the urge to step back and watch him—which was when he caught me off guard—but he was also focused and competent. He showed me where I should move faster, when to raise or lower my arm, what to expect. His fighting was different from Keisha, and I admitted—to myself—that he had been right. Fighting him was actually a good thing.
After a couple of rounds, I was starting to lag.
“Come on, darling.”
Micah raised the sword over my head, and I barely had time to move out of its path.
“I’m tired. Keisha and I trained for four hours this morning and another four this afternoon.”
“You can’t pause a real battle.”
“This isn’t a real battle.”
“But we’re training for one. You have to believe it is.”
Groaning, I turned my back to him, with every intention of walking away, but he stepped in front of me, swinging his sword at my head. I jumped back and parried the blow.
“Hey!”
He advanced on me. “Come on!”
“I want to stop.”
“Not yet.”
I blocked another one of his moves and retreated two steps. I was already winning some rounds when fighting against Keisha, but I hadn’t won even half a round against Micah yet. He was not only good, but his fighting style was unknown to me. I had no idea how to end this fight without letting him win.
He swung his sword toward me. I threw up my sword to block his blow, but the force of his strike sent my weapon flying across the room. I gasped and held my breath. The tip of his sword lingered above my heart.
“You didn’t even try.”
I glared at him. “I told you I’m tired.”
He dropped his sword and swung his arm at me.
I ducked. “What the hell?”
“Fight!”
He did a perfect roundhouse kick, and I stepped back, but tripped over one of the swords and went down. Before I did, though, I grabbed his wrist, in order to regain my balance. Instead, he fell over me.
His hand cradled my head before we hit the ground, and the only place that really hurt was the middle of my back, where the wooden sword was. However, Micah’s weight over me took the air out of my lungs.
A new wave of heat traveled low, very low, and my heart hammered against my ribs. He was heavy, but God, this didn’t feel bad. Not bad at all.
“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
He pushed up on his elbows but stayed close. The pendant of his necklace nestled right on my cleavage, the cool metal chilling my hot skin.
Micah looked at it and smiled. “Oh, lucky necklace.”
I groaned. “Get off.”
Losing the smile, he turned his eyes to me. “Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?”
I stared into his eyes. Those endless black eyes. They were on me with urgency and concern. Whenever Micah was like that, I was caught off guard.
“I’ll be better when you get off me.”
He smiled, making my heart skip a few beats. “I know you love me and my body, darling. You don’t mean that.”
I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. “Get off.”
He didn’t budge. In fact, he adjusted himself so his body covered every inch of mine. I gasped. His mouth hovered an inch from mine, and his intense gaze was doing wicked things to my self-control.
“Say it like you mean it.” His voice was low. Dangerous.
I opened my mouth to tell him to go, but nothing came out. Instead I inhaled and his sandalwood scent washed over me, clouding my senses. My gaze shifted to his mouth. He groaned before diving in.
His lips touched mine for a second, and then he hesitated. But I didn’t. My arms wound around his neck and pulled him back over me, my mouth closing over his. That was all the incentive he needed. His mouth opened with hunger and need, making me shiver.
I had no idea what came over me; I just knew that, at this moment, I needed this. I needed to feel this. I wanted to feel needed. I wanted to be kissed. I wanted to be loved, even if for a moment. I was alone in this world, and I missed being someone to someone. I missed having people who actually cared for me, not just greedy deities who only wanted me around because of my healing touch.
One of his hands clutched my waist, pressing me against him as if my body wasn’t flush to his already. I ran my nails over his bare, muscled back, glad he had taken his shirt off after all. The hand on my waist traveled up, under my tee, and I shivered again, arching into his touch. He slowed the kiss, going deeper, if that was possible, entangling his tongue with mine, and dragging moans out of me.
His lips left mine, and I was about to protest when his mouth trailed a searing path to my neck, extinguishing any coherent thought from my mind. He bit gently on the soft spot between my neck and shoulder, and I cried.
“By the Everlast,” he whispered, before returning his mouth to mine.
All I could feel was his hard body pressed over me, his sweet lips on mine, and his hands on my skin. I wanted it all. I wanted him. I wiggled under him, so my hips were perfectly aligned with his, and pressed over the large bulge down there. He inhaled sharply, but he didn’t stop. Instead he thrust into me, making me gasp.
Without breaking the kiss, I reached down to his pants.
He froze, and in the next second, he was up, his eyes wide in shock. Or terror? Or what?
I propped myself on my elbows and stared at him. The heat of embarrassment crept up my face, while my body felt incredibly cold without his.
A knot formed between his brows, and he looked down at his shirt on the floor. He opened his mouth and then closed it. His jaw flexed, his fists clenched.
“I shouldn’t … I can’t,” he muttered. He shook his head once, picked up his shirt from the floor, and walked away.
What the hell was that?
After Micah left the gym, I stayed on the floor for several minutes, replaying everything in my head. What had I done wrong? I mean, it was Micah. The cocky guy who seemed to flock all the chicks under his wings, but now he didn’t want anything to do with me.
And why the hell had I let him get to me like that? I had looked like a desperate, needy girl, and I hated that. One of the reasons I was training and fighting was not to look weak and needy. Then I throw myself at a guy. No. Not just a guy. A god!
Again … oh my God.
I needed to get a grip, to hide in the deepest hole on Earth, or something.
Instead I went to my bedroom, curled up with my pillow and Pinky, and cried. I thought of my family, how I missed them, how I wished I could change things faster. I thought of the Soul Oath, about my family being alive again, about my death. I wondered if Micah would kill me himself, if he would make it painless and quick, or if he would enjoy making me suffer. Well, he wasn’t that heartless, was he? Since I first met him, he had shown me signs of not being a total bad boy. He was good, I knew he was, and he would honor the oath. He would kill me quickly and painless, and he would make sure my family was okay.
Then I thought of how pathetic I must have looked after that kiss. I would never admit it out loud, but I still believed all those feelings were in me. The lust, the need to feel loved, the there’s-more-to-this-guy feeling. However, I had no idea how to go about it. Actually, I was starting to think I shouldn’t do anything about it.
Finally, I drifted off to sleep. Until the nightmares shook me awake.
I jumped out of bed, starting to believe that the bed was the one that didn’t allow me to forget how horribly my family had died and how I couldn’t do anything to save them.
I put on sweatpants over my shorts and a coat over my tee, and marched out of the room.
I wandered aimlessly, counting each stain or crack on the walls, how many tiles composed the hallway, how many lamps hung from the ceiling, all to keep my mind busy.
“Damn it,” Keisha’s voice came from behind the gym’s closed door.
I opened it and looked inside. Dressed in workout clothes, she hit a punching dummy at three in the morning.
“Hey,” I said, stepping in.
She whirled to the door. “Oh, hey. Did I wake you up?”
“No, no.” I hugged my coat tighter around me. “I just couldn’t sleep. You?”
She reached for the towel on the floor and wiped the sweat from her face. “I haven’t slept much. I’ve talked to Lady Ceris, and she thinks it’s because of my hero’s metabolism. More stamina, more energy, and those things.”
“Oh.” I started wondering if anyone slept in this compound.
She sat down on the mat, her legs extended in front of her. With a groan, she bent at the waist and stretched her torso over her legs. “I might be a good warrior, but I have no flexibility.”
I sat down a good eight feet from her. “That’s not true. Compared to me, you’re very flexible.”
“Nu-uh. I’ve seen you stretching, remember? You’re like rubber compared to me.” She straightened her back again and looked at me. For some reason, I felt like I was under a microscope.
“Hmm, sorry.” I stood up. “I barged in here and made myself comfortable. I didn’t mean to interrupt your training.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Keisha gestured for me to sit back down. “I could use a break. And girl talk.” She smiled. With a smile of my own, I dropped back on the mat. She pulled her legs to her chest and hugged her knees. “So, what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing,” I said too quickly.
She tilted her head. “Really? I spend a lot of time with you. I know when something is bothering you.”
I scrunched my nose. “Am I that easy to read?”
“Sometimes.” She scooted until she reached the water bottle on the edge of the mat. “Am I going to have to beg, or you will spare me the humiliation?”
I picked some lint from my sweatpants, wondering what to do. I could not tell her anything. She wouldn’t become more than those people we called friends but didn’t really know. More like acquaintances. Or, in our case, allies working together for a common goal.
However, I could open up for once in my life. I never told Raisa anything because I was afraid of what she would think of my visions, and if I told her I knew Victor from my visions, or that I could heal him and Micah, she would have freaked out on me. Or not. I would never know. However, Keisha was here. She knew everything, including a bit of our messy past. She knew about the gods and the creed, the powers, the healing—everything. What did I have to lose?
Nothing. I might even gain something. A real friend.
&n
bsp; “Micah kissed me this evening,” I blurted out before I lost my nerve. She choked on her water. “Oh, God.” I scooted to her ready to slap her back, but she raised her arm and took a deep breath.
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice raspy. She took one more sip of her water before turning her wide eyes back to me. “By the Everlast, that’s … wow. He’s a god. You kissed a god.”
I groaned. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“What? Was it that bad?”
“Oh no. Not at all.” Heat surged in my body just remembering how good it had been. “But he stopped it. He retreated from me and left the room as if I had leprosy.”
She frowned. “But I had the impression he liked you. Liked liked you, you know.”
So I hadn’t been the only one to see those mixed signals? Because I had seen them. I knew I had. And the fact that he had kissed me at all was proof.
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t understand. One second he’s all hot and coming at me strong, and I’m fighting like hell to stay away, but then the next second, he melts my walls and he’s the one who backs away.”
“Perhaps you two have a Romeo and Juliet thing going on.”
“What do you mean?”
“Instead of the enemy families, think about what he is. A god. Immortal. He shouldn’t fall for a human, but he can’t really help himself.”
I snorted. “Micah falling for one girl, for real? Nah, not happening.”
“What makes you say that? Have you seen him with a lot of girls?”
I thought about it. The truth was, I had never seen Micah with any girl. He had always been around me—except for the three months they all disappeared. Nevertheless, since I met Micah, he hadn’t been with any girls. None that I knew of.
“I’ve never seen him with any girl,” I confessed, feeling silly for assuming he was a Casanova. Just because he acted like one, didn’t mean he was. I shook my head.
“See? I must be right. He knows he shouldn’t fall for you, but it’s stronger than him.”
Soul Oath Page 19
