Defeat the Darkness (Paladins of Darkness 6)

by Alexis Morgan

  She opened her book again, determined to lose herself in its pages. The author was one of her favorites, and the story was the kind she was trying to write herself. But after only a few pages, her eyes kept wandering off to see if Hunter had left on one of his nightly prowls. He’d only been there a few days, but she’d already noticed his habit of walking after most folks had gone to bed. He’d even gone out the night before despite the heavy rain.

  She’d been tempted to have a hot cup of tea waiting for him. Oh, yeah, that would’ve gone over well. Even if he’d accepted the mug from her, he’d have given her yet another angry lecture about leaving him alone.

  Speak of the devil. Hunter stepped out of his apartment and started down the steps. But instead of heading toward the road as he had the past few nights, he turned toward the woods. She closed her book and leaned into the corner, hoping that he’d change direction.

  But no, he was definitely heading for the trail that led down to the rocky beach below the bluff. He had no idea how treacherous the path could be at night, especially with his injury.

  Without even realizing she’d made the decision to go after him, Tate was already tying her shoes. She ran downstairs and out the back door, flashlight in hand. There was a definite chill in the night air. Maybe she should’ve pulled jeans on over her flannel boxers and T-shirt, but there hadn’t been time. Not if she was going to reach Hunter before he reached the steepest part of the trail.

  Running in the dark could lead to disaster, especially if she sprained something vital. Impatiently holding her pace to a fast walk, she focused her eyes on the ground. Hunter wasn’t as familiar with the terrain as she was, so with luck she’d catch up with him before long. She doubted he’d even taken a flashlight. He seemed to prefer the cloak of darkness, although with his injury it struck her as foolish.

  Despite her caution, she tripped over a root just inside the tree line and stumbled forward, barely catching herself from taking a tumble down the sloping trail. She stopped long enough to shine her light into the trees ahead. Hunter was nowhere to be seen.

  Had he turned back toward the road? There was no way to know for sure, so she’d continue on until she reached the sharp switchback. If she hadn’t spotted him by then, she would turn back. The towering Douglas firs and cedars closed in around her, blocking out the moonlight. She paused to listen to the soft rustlings in the woods and the pounding of the surf on the rocks. It was as if she were alone in the world with no sight or sound of another human being.

  The chill that swept over her had little to do with the ambient temperature. She’d never felt scared living in Justice Point, but then again she’d never ventured out in this part of the woods at night. Was she overreacting out of concern for Hunter? She fought against the urge to break and run for the safety of her bedroom.

  The trail straightened out ahead, so she broke into a slow trot, swinging her flashlight in a wide arc as she ran. She tripped again and dropped it. The light died immediately, leaving her lost in total darkness. She stayed sprawled on the ground, waiting for her hands and knees to stop stinging. When she pushed herself back up to her feet, she was pretty sure she felt a trickle of blood running down her leg. Great. Just great.

  It was time to surrender to common sense and turn back. She should head back to where the trees thinned. There she could see well enough to get back home without further mishap. She only hoped that she’d make it that far without running into Hunter. Some rescuer she turned out to be.

  Then she heard voices. Turning her head to the side, she determined that they were coming from below her on the trail. She backed up a couple of steps. Who would be out in the woods this late at night? Well, besides her and Hunter? Tourists would be the most likely answer, but there was no campground down near the beach. It was also odd that she couldn’t see any flashlights. Why would they be hiking in total darkness?

  Maybe they’d spent the day picnicking and were only now heading back to their car. Trouble was she hadn’t noticed any strange vehicles parked in town during the day. Then she remembered the other night, when that strange truck had driven past her house without any headlights. At the time she’d thought the driver was being considerate, but now she wondered if they’d been trying to avoid being noticed.

  She had to get back to the house. Before she walked even a handful of steps, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and a hand clamped over her mouth. She tried to scream and fought to break free.

  The arm tightened, cutting off her breath as a harsh voice whispered near her ear. “Damn it, Tate, hold still! Keep fighting me and we’ll both get hurt.”

  Hunter! Her terror turned to relief. When she let herself go slack, he eased off on his stranglehold. Her lungs still weren’t working at full capacity, but that had more to do with the unfamiliar sensation of being pressed up against a hard male body.

  He whispered again. “I need you to do exactly what I tell you to. No arguments. Nod if you understand.”

  She nodded, his rough voice sending shivers through her.

  “We need to get off the trail before they see us. Got that?”

  She nodded again.

  “Okay. Now keep quiet and follow me.”

  When he released her, her knees buckled. Cursing under his breath, Hunter caught her. This time he held onto her as he dragged her deeper into the shadows. Tate couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of her, but Hunter seemed to know exactly where he was headed. Her best guess was that they’d gone about ten feet when he shoved her up against the far side of a thick tree trunk.

  “You would be wearing white,” he said, disgusted.

  Since when was wearing a white shirt a crime? Before she could ask, he opened his leather coat and leaned in close to wrap it around her. She realized that between the tree at her back and the black leather, it would be almost impossible to see her. He was protecting her.

  For a moment all she could focus on was the quiet rasp of Hunter’s breathing, the warmth of his body surrounding her, and the scent of his skin filling her senses. Maybe she should be at least a little frightened, if not of the approaching voices, then certainly of the man who’d dragged her farther into the darkness with no explanation.

  But what she was feeling for Hunter was definitely not fear. Instead, desire stirred in the back of her mind, wishing he’d press closer, harder. Was his hair as soft as it looked? Her fingers itched to find out. What would it feel like to be taken by a man with such strength, such anger? Her body melted and softened with need.

  Her hands were trapped between his chest and her own, leaving her no room to move. Tension thrummed through his body as he cocked his head to one side, listening as the men passed by. She heard two distinct voices, but with her heart pounding in her head, she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  Did Hunter know them? If not, why would he assume they were a threat? She fully intended to ask those—and a whole bunch of other questions—as soon as she had the chance. And if she didn’t like Hunter’s answers, she’d be looking for a new tenant come morning.

  The bastards were gone, leaving Hunter stuck in the woods trying to figure out what to do about Tate Justice. He had a job to do, and it didn’t include protecting a woman with too much curiosity for her own good. It didn’t help his own control to know that she was attracted to him. But hot damn, it felt good to be this close to her tight little body. It would be so easy to yank those ridiculous boxers down and take her right there against the tree.

  “Wait here,” he said, shaking off the thought. “I’ll make sure they’re gone.”

  “But who were they?”

  Her voice was anything but quiet. If she kept that up, she’d find out firsthand who, or what, they were dealing with.

  “Hunter, answer me! Who—”

  He silenced her the only way he could, crushing his mouth down over hers. Big mistake. Her lips parted, trying to protest his rough treatment, but they offered him the opportunity to deepen the kiss. It would’ve
taken a far stronger man than Hunter to resist sampling the sweet taste of Tate Justice’s mouth. He tightened his arms around her, pulling her flush up against his body as his tongue swept in and out of her mouth, stoking the fire between them.

  It didn’t take long for her to engage him in a fierce battle for domination, one he fully intended to win. He pushed his knee between her thighs, lifting her up onto her toes to ride his leg. She gasped, but he couldn’t tell if it was outrage or pleasure. He didn’t care. No doubt she’d clean his clock for him later, but he was willing to risk a few bruises for the chance to get his hands on that luscious ass.

  When Tate fisted her fingers in his hair, he half expected her to use the hold to break off the kiss. Instead, she slid her tongue against his and rocked her hips. Holy God, he wasn’t the only one racing straight toward catastrophe here. No matter how much his body screamed to get closer, to lose their clothes, to bury his cock deep in the damp heat pressed against his thigh, he knew in that direction lay total disaster. Tate Justice was not the kind of woman a man fucked up against a tree, even if she seemed up for it. Right now she was riding high on an adrenaline rush that he knew she’d regret as soon as she crashed.

  He eased her back to the ground and stepped back away from her, reluctantly putting some distance between them. He had to get away and quickly. But before he left, he adjusted his coat on her.

  “Put that on properly before you freeze your ass off.”

  Thanks to his Paladin high-octane eyesight, he could see her far more clearly than she could see him. Her eyes were huge, the expression on her pixie face caught somewhere between fear and fury. There was no question the woman had passion. At least the darkness hid the painful evidence that he’d enjoyed their momentary embrace way more than he should have.

  He picked up his cane and stalked off to assess the situation. As soon as he reached the clearing, he heard a powerful engine start up. Even if his leg was up to the chase, they’d be gone before he got close enough to figure out who they were.

  Cursing a blue streak, he started back down the trail to collect Tate and drag her interfering butt back to the house. Devlin Bane would have his head for screwing up like this, especially because of a woman. Or maybe not, considering he’d let Barak q’Young live because Bane’s lover had asked him to.

  It was too much to hope that Tate had stayed put. She’d managed to find her own way back to the trail. It’d serve her right if he left her to fumble her way home alone, but he couldn’t do it. Telling himself that he was only protecting his favorite leather coat from inevitable disaster, he followed her.

  “Give me your hand.”

  Tate started at the sound of his voice.

  “You were gone too long.”

  He heard a hint of fear in her words and bit back a snarl. “At least I came back.”

  She latched onto his hand and held on tightly as he hauled her annoyingly cute ass back up the trail.

  They reached the edge of the trees without further mishap. But as soon as there was enough light, she jerked her hand free and walked beside him. He was surprised she didn’t stomp off in a huff and leave him behind.

  Son of a bitch, she was showing her steps to accommodate his limp! Would the woman never learn? The last thing he wanted was her pity. Even though he’d pay for it later, he sped ahead until she was almost running to keep up.

  Stepping up on the porch, she turned to look down at him. Maybe she thought the high ground would give her some advantage, but she should be smart enough to know he couldn’t be intimidated.

  Hunter joined her on the porch, standing close and glaring down at her. “What in the hell did you think you were doing out there half-naked in the dark?”

  Her chin immediately came up in a stubborn tilt, but her eyes slid to the side, avoiding his gaze.

  “That’s my business.”

  So he was right; she’d been on a rescue mission.

  “I will say this once, and I want you to listen: Leave me alone. Period. I’ve been taking care of myself for longer than you can imagine.”

  Instead of agreeing, Tate changed the subject. “Who were those men?”

  He decided to give her the honest answer. “I don’t know.”

  He did know that they might not have even been human. But the last thing the Paladins wanted was it to get out that wack-job Kalithians had been visiting this world for centuries.

  “If you didn’t know, why did we have to hide? They were probably just tourists.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself it was true.

  “They may not have been. I’d rather err on the safe side.”

  Hunter knew it was time to make tracks for his apartment. The walk back from the woods had cooled down his body’s response to holding Tate in his arms. But the longer he lingered, the harder it was to remember why he hadn’t tried to finish what they’d started. And as much as it infuriated him that this little slip of a woman had jettisoned all common sense to come charging after him, it also touched him.

  “Leave me alone, Tate. Got that?” he said, getting in her face one last time.

  She executed a perfect salute, the brat. “Yes, sir, roger that.”

  Before he could walk away, she grabbed his arm. “But you get this, Hunter Fitzsimon. If you go tumbling off that bluff because you’re too bullheaded to listen to reason, don’t blame me.”

  Okay, that was cute. He looked down to keep her from seeing him smile. What the heck was that on her legs? He sniffed the air—fresh blood.

  “What did you do to your leg?”

  She shrugged. “I tripped over a root.”

  He took her arm again. “Come with me before you bleed to death.”

  The cut wasn’t serious, but knowing she’d been injured because of him made him see red—again—as he dragged her into the house.

  He yanked a chair out from the table. “Sit down,” he snapped. “Where’s your first-aid kit?”

  “I can—”

  “Tate, where’s the kit?”

  She rolled her eyes and flopped down on the chair. “Behind the counter out in the shop.”

  His leg was killing him, but he ignored the pain and tried not to limp. If Tate got the idea that she’d been right about the trail being too much for him, she’d be back up in his face about it or baking him cookies or some other crap. He rummaged around behind the counter until he found the small box with a red cross on it. On the way back to the kitchen, he grabbed a couple of clean washcloths and a bar of soap from the hall bathroom.

  She was sitting right where he’d left her. He filled a bowl with warm water, soaked one of the cloths at the sink, and worked up a lather. The soap would probably sting her scrape, but she deserved a little pain for being such a big one.

  The woman didn’t have a lick of sense. The two men out on the trail might have been dangerous, but then again, so was Hunter. Before he was injured, he would never have lifted a hand against a human woman. But being tortured to death had left his temper unpredictable. He didn’t want to hurt Tate, but there were times when he might not be able to control himself.

  Or even remember later what he’d done.

  Hunter pulled a chair closer to Tate and motioned for her to rest her legs in his lap. It took several tries to wash away all the caked-on blood and dirt. He smeared some antibiotic cream on her scrapes and covered the one deep cut with gauze and surgical tape.

  “Anything else hurt?”

  She held up the palms of her hands. “They’re not bad though. A little soap and water, and they’ll be as good as new.”

  Eyeing her bruises, he shook his head. “Yeah, right. We’ll see if you’re still singing that tune in the morning.” Not that he planned to be anywhere near her tomorrow.

  As he cleaned up the mess he’d made, he realized he was using it as an excuse to hang around Tate’s old-fashioned kitchen. It was definitely time to get out of there, especially since she hadn’t yet brought up what had happened between them. Maybe she got sho
ved up against a tree for a brain-rattling kiss so often that it wasn’t worth mentioning, but he doubted it.

  “I’m out of here.”

  She immediately stood up, wincing as she did so. “Thanks for the first aid.”

  “If you minded your own business, it wouldn’t have been necessary,” he reminded her. “I’ve got better things to do than play nursemaid to you.”

  She hobbled over to block the door. “Yes, well, maybe I thought you were more important than the possibility of a little spilled blood.”

  He caught her jaw with his hand and angled her face up to look straight at him.

  “No, I’m not, little girl, so next time leave me the hell alone.”

  “You better get your eyes checked, mister, because I’m not a little girl. In fact, I’d bet we’re about the same age.”

  “Like hell we are.” He probably had ten years on her. “I’m not talking about years, sweetcakes, but experience. I’m out of your league.”

  Tate looked insulted and even a little hurt. “I don’t remember hearing you complain back there in the woods.”

  She crowded closer, her blue eyes daring him to deny it. Then she moved in for the kill and kissed him. Her tongue swept in and out of his mouth, tempting him down the road toward utter ruin. He had to stop this, had to, but God, she tasted so damn good and felt even better. Another few seconds of this and he’d be shoving her back onto that kitchen table, taking her any way he could. He couldn’t wait to find out if she tasted that sweet all over.

  Tate moaned and dug her nails hard into his arms. The pressure was enough to cut through the madness that had possessed him. He wrenched his mouth away from Tate’s. Holding her at arm’s length, Hunter stared down at her swollen lips and defiant smile, praying for his brain to kick back into gear.

  The words finally came, snapping out of his mouth with the power and speed of a cracking whip. “I’ll say it one more time. Stay away from me.”

  Then he stepped around her and out into the darkness, where he belonged.