Echo frowned. “Their meeting ended a while ago. Try the gym. If the nights have been quiet, they train sometimes, probably to get rid of all that pent-up energy. Better yet, call him.”
Damn. Both her phone and tote were back at her home. “I don’t have my cell.”
“Here, use mine.” Echo handed her iPhone over. “Star four.”
Darci called Blaéz. Several rings and it went to voicemail. “He’s not answering.” Dammit. “Any way I can get into the city?”
“There are more than enough cars in the garage. Ask Hedori where the keys are.” At Darci’s skeptical look, Echo grinned. “Good therapy when you're mad at your man. I took Aethan’s Reventón when I was pissed at him.”
A while later, and a bit disappointed that Blaéz had left her on her own, Darci left the island with the purring black Veyron under her control after Hedori had showed her how to work the unfamiliar vehicle.
A cool breeze flowed through the open car window, ruffling her hair. She pulled in a long, shaky breath and hunched over the steering wheel, her fragmented dream haunting her. Was it because Blaéz had said he’d been imprisoned in Tartarus? It had to be.
Heck, Blaéz was from the Celtic pantheon — a god! Hell, she worked in a library, granted she hadn’t read much about the gods and their pantheons before, but now she had a lot invested in them. And to think she’d always thought them a myth.
Darci drove down the quiet, tree-lined road toward Northern Boulevard when a dark figure suddenly appeared in the middle of the deserted road.
Slamming on the brakes, the tires squealed on the tarmac as the car came to a shuddering halt. Her heart crashing against her ribs, Darci sat there frozen in shock. Then fury exploded. She jumped out of the car and stormed up to the man striding toward her, looking all sorts of dangerous even in jeans and t-shirt.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She thumped Blaéz hard on his chest. Her fear at how close she’d come to hurting him wouldn’t leave. “I could have knocked you — hurt you badly — and don’t you dare tell me you can heal fast!”
He frowned as he searched her face. “I had to stop you. It seemed the quickest way. Why did you leave?”
“Work,” she snapped. “I have work! Did you forget?”
“Darci, did you not understand anything I said when I brought you to the castle? The dangers that come after me will be after you, too, now!”
“Yes, but that’s at night. Demoniis only roam the streets at night since the sun’s hazardous to them. You said so yourself.”
“I know I did. But you had a horrific nightmare, you should be in bed, resting,” he pointed out.
“Blaéz—” She sighed. “I'm fine. I called to tell you, but you didn't answer. Where were you anyway?”
“I went for a swim. You should have waited for me.”
“You should have wakened me or left a note,” she retorted. “Post-it. Great invention. Darci, wait for me. Simple, see?”
Shaking his head in exasperation, a hand on her back, he ushered her toward the car. “My mistake. I thought you needed to rest, I didn't realize you’d be this energetic and ready to tackle the day after last night.”
Wrinkling her nose, she glanced at him as he opened the car door, and found him scanning the area. She looked around too, but couldn’t see anything.
“Let’s get out of here—” he broke off and hauled her to him, as if shielding her with his body. Just as a gust of wind swirled around them, tearing at their clothes.
Darci clutched onto him, buried her head in chest against the debris flying around them. And when the squall died, she looked past him, her eyes widening. “Blaéz—”
“I know.”
***
Aware of the threat, Blaéz kept Darci behind him and turned. The moment he laid eyes on the tall, rangy male with a sword strapped to his back, Blaéz knew what this was.
The irony didn't escape him. When he’d longed for death, no one bothered, now that he finally had something to live for, they appeared like a damn rash. As if he’d be that easy to get rid of.
“Get inside the car,” he told Darci his gaze pinned on the dark-haired law-keeper.
Once she shut the door and was safely out of danger’s way, he hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets. Waited.
“You know why I'm here.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Don’t play games, Fallen.” The law-keeper drew out the gleaming, black-edged, silver blade from his scabbard. “It’s been a while since I’ve used the Mating Sword.” He stroked the blade’s edge. “So, I’d really hate to be starting with you. This is a warning. I'm sure you wouldn’t like to see that little mortal dead?”
At the mockery of the sword’s name, and more for threatening Darci, Blaéz punched him in the face. The satisfying sound of bones crunching filled the morning air.
The law-keeper roared in pain. “For that alone, I’ll make it hurt before I kill you!”
“You can try.”
Swiping the blood from his face and with a guttural growl, the law-keeper vanished in a flash of blue light.
Before he came back with reinforcements, Blaéz stalked back to the driver’s side and got into the car. Making a U-turn, he peeled back toward the castle, trying to clamp down on the fear that wouldn’t leave. Darci could have been alone, and the bastard would have thought nothing at threatening her.
“Obviously, he’s not a friend. You hit him. Why?”
At her worried tone, anger renewed, consuming him like a flame. It took a moment to speak. “Because it was either that or kill him.”
“What did he do?”
How did he explain about his old world’s archaic law, one that still bound him? They may not be in immediate danger, but those bastards from the pantheons worked fast. If Darci were just some one-night stand, no one would bother about them. But a mortal female taken as a mate was a definite transgression. Once mated, they would immediately blip on the pantheon’s radar because only mated couples bore children. And mortals were never meant to have the powers of gods or angels.
He couldn’t mate Darci. One needed a soul for that bonding to occur. Still, she had to know the risks.
“Besides the danger from demons and demoniis, there’s another. It comes from my old world. There are those from the pantheons who would hunt us.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because of their fucked-up laws. Mortals and immortals cannot form a liaison — cannot mate. What happened just now was supposed to be a warning,” he said, tone grim. “They want us dead. They won't win. I will kill every one of them.”
“Oh, dear God.” Her whispered prayer made his jaw harden. He parked in the large underground garage that housed their cars, SUVs, and bikes and turned to her.
She released her seat belt. Her beautiful eyes crowded with anxiety. “Blaéz, what do we do?”
“You? Nothing.” He picked up her ice-cold hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’ll keep you safe, but I need you to do something for me.”
She eyed him warily. “What?”
“I would never curtail your activities, but with this threat looming, we have to be careful.” She tensed as if she knew what was coming. “Darci, about your job—”
“You want me to leave.”
“Yes.”
***
Assassin gods from the pantheons wanted them dead? Darci struggled to get her mind wrapped around what had just happened as she got out of the car. Locking the vehicle, Blaéz grasped her hand and headed for the entrance, punched in a code, and the thick wooden panel opened. She stepped into a silent, rather utilitarian corridor. It flowed out into a canal of white walls and gray tiled floors with doors on either side.
“You haven’t been down here yet, right?” he asked. He probably wanted to take her mind off that near disaster, but she doubted anything ever could.
“No.”
“This is the basement. The door on your right is the arena — well, it’s what we cal
l it. We train with swords and other weapons. Just be careful when you enter this zone, our powers can sometimes bleed out when we fight. It’s okay if we get hurt, but not you. So always check through the view window first—” he broke off. “No, scrap that. Just don’t enter when there’s a training session here. On the left is the weights room. A gym if you want to use it.”
She nodded, barely paying attention.
A moment later, he stopped and pressed the elevator button on the wall. The door swished open. Once they stepped inside, he watched her with those pale eyes that never seem to miss a thing.
Reaching out, he removed the pencil she’d used to anchor her hair. “It will be all right.”
Right. Darci inhaled a shaky breath and pushed back her tumbling mane. Blaéz wasn’t kidding when he said he had dangerous enemies. A few weeks ago, she’d just wanted to meet a guy she had more than a physical attraction to, get married, and have a family. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected this — drawn into a deadly, supernatural world.
She paced to the elevator door in two steps then veered back to him. “It’s not only downright scary that someone can just pop up anywhere, at any place, and kill me, but extremely overwhelming.”
“No one will touch you.”
“Yes, as long as I don’t leave the castle.” What was she supposed to do? She chewed her lip. “Blaéz, if I leave work, I’ll go mad with inactivity.”
He frowned as the elevator stopped and the door slid open. “If work is what you want, come on. There is something.”
Her brow rose in skepticism. But deeper, hope took hold. “A job for me? Here?”
He nodded. With a hand on her back, he led her down the long corridor, through another lengthy passage and past several armored statues.
“Where exactly are we going?” she asked. Then added in a drawl to lighten his somber mood, “Does Hedori need someone to mop the floors, and you're showing me just how many hallways there are?”
His mouth quirked, the hint of a smile chasing away his brooding expression. He turned into another part of the castle. At the end of a short corridor, he pushed open an enormous arched, double door and waved her inside.
Curious, Darci entered. The smell of ancient parchment, old pages, and leather filled her nose. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Her mouth dropped open. She spun around in awe. “You have your own library.”
The looming bookshelves, some cloaked in shadows, stood like erect sentinels guarding the library’s ancient secrets. A slant of morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows, emphasizing dancing dust motes. Above, on the domed ceiling was a stunning mural of knights, angels, and ladies set in a bygone era.
A light flicked on, brightening everything and revealing the impossible beauty surrounding her. Two floors. The top level had a gallery with a spiral staircase in the corner connecting them. Ladders leaned against the shelves. Books from leather-bound ones to hardcovers and paperbacks stacked the shelves, beckoning her to explore them.
On the ground floor, between two stained-glass windows, an enormous fireplace took up space with fat armchairs facing it. Adjacent to it stood a large desk and leather chair. This area appeared to be used, but the rest bore an untouched look. The librarian inside her cried out to rescue and lavish care on the neglected books.
Darci did another gawk of the room. “If I could just move my bed in here—”
“It can be arranged.” At his droll comment, she turned. “I imagine it would be a bit awkward when others need to use the place. But, if you don’t mind an audience — fine with me. We’ll sleep here.”
He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb and watched her with those burning pale eyes. His sexual intensity drew her like a moth to a flame. So what if she burned, at least she’d die happy knowing passion, the kind she’d only read about and hoped to experience with him, if his kisses, his touch were any indicator.
Still leaning against the frame, he held out his hand and waited. His intense gaze skimmed over her as she made her way to him.
“This is all yours to do with as you see fit.” He reached out and drew her to him, his hands locking her hips against his. His jean-covered erection, a hard tempting length pressed into the V of her thighs. “Read, catalogue, do whatever it is you librarians do.”
A wave of desire flowed through her as she reached up and pressed her lips to his. “Thank you.”
“No. That is not the thanks I want — this is what I need.” He took her mouth in a hot, drugging kiss. The man made love to her mouth, the way he did everything else — slow and seductively. He teased, tasted, and explored every inch. His hands caressed her body, down her hips to squeeze her bottom, leaving a blaze of heat in their wake.
He broke the kiss and murmured against her lips, “This morning, with you sleeping in my arms, your thigh pressing against my cock and no ease in sight, I needed that swim in the ocean.”
Breathing hard, she pulled back. It took her a moment to form coherent words. “You left because I tempted you?”
He stroked her lower lip with his thumb. “You had a traumatic night, it didn't seem fair.”
“I wish you hadn’t left,” she said. It would have made her forget her horror faster.
“I won't make a foolish error like that again.” His one hand came up to roll her nipple with his thumb and finger. Darts of pleasure shot to her core, her arousal flaming higher. He kissed her again, with scorching carnality this time. “I’m dying to taste you,” he rasped. “Let my tongue do between your thighs what I'm doing to your mouth — will you let me?”
Held in the grips of mind-numbing pleasure, all she could do was nod. His hands slid beneath her skirt, he stroked her bare thighs. “I adore your legs — wrap them around me.”
He picked her up, braced her against the open door, and she did as he asked. Her short skirt slid back, his rigid sex hitting her damp silk-covered core. His mouth returned to hers. He ground his erection against her clit.
God. She moaned into his kiss, adrift in a sea of desire. She’d never experienced anything like this, was powerless against the sensation rolling through her body. His hunger, his need consuming her, she slipped her hands beneath his shirt and caressed the hard muscles of his scarred back—
“Dammit.” A low growl escaped him and he lowered her to the floor. Darci stumbled and grabbed onto him.
“We have company.”
Blaéz rebuttoned her top she hadn’t realized he’d unfastened and saw the frustration churning inside her reflected in his gaze. Her chest heaving, she hastily straightened her clothes. “Who?”
“The Arc.”
Huh? “The arc what?”
He led her away from the door to the large desk adjacent to the fireplace. “As in the archangel. He’s our leader.”
Darci blinked. An archangel was the leader of the Guardians? Through her heart drumming in her ears, she heard heavy boot steps. Her gaze darted back to the doorway. A tall, dark-haired man entered and stopped a few feet from them. Starkly handsome. Eyes of shattered sapphires held her spell-bound. A silver glow gleamed out from the splintered cracks in his deep blue irises.
“Celt.” The low, powerful cadence of his voice pinned Darci to the floor. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to. The next moment, Blaéz’s warm calloused hand drew her to him, his hold possessive. “Michael, this is Darci Callahan.”
“Welcome, Darci.”
She croaked, “Hello…” and trailed off. She had no idea how to address a being like him.
“Michael will do,” he said as if understanding her dilemma.
Hands on his hips, he cut a cursory glance around the enormous library. His faded navy t-shirt stretching over his chest. He’d bunched his hair into a short messy ponytail, the shorter strands escaped the tie and hung down his face.
“It’s been an age,” Michael said, “and we have acquired many books that appear to be in dire need of cataloguing. I'm glad they’ll get the attention they deserve now.”
&nb
sp; She nodded in agreement.
“Anything you need to know, Hedori would be able to help if we’re not around.”
Another nod. Darci felt like a bobbing doll, words just refused to come out. She was talking to the archangel. She’d always thought of celestial beings as wearing long white gowns and possessing enormous wings — not standing in a library, dressed like a biker.
Michael said something to Blaéz. He nodded and stroked a hand down her back before the two men strode toward the door, their conversation held in low tones.
Forcing her gaze away from them, she examined the rest of her new domain.
Wow, in charge of a private library — heck, this had to be even bigger than the one she’d worked at. That reminded her she had to tell Lester she was quitting — a task she didn't look forward to, and also ask Blaéz about her things, and she also needed her cell phone.
He came back a few minutes later. “All okay, then?”
“It’s a dream come true.” She couldn’t contain her smile, then she glanced at the doorway. But the archangel had left.
Reeling in her surreal moment, she tried to focus on what she wanted to tell Blaéz. Work — the library. Right. “Blaéz, I need to go in today. I have to let Lester know I won't be returning.”
He didn't look happy. “Darci—”
“Blaéz, it has to be done. I can’t resign with just a phone call. Lester is pedantic enough to call my family, and that would open up a load of questions I’m not ready to answer.”
“Would you trust me to handle your work issues?”
“How.”
A casual shrug of his shoulder. “I’ll leave them with memories that you’d worked out your notice, makes it easier all round.”
“Mind-control?”
“It’s the only way.”
She didn't like that, but knew it was for the best. “Okay… But what do I tell my family?”
“For now, I suggest you let them know you're working for a private collector.” He reached out and stroked her face. “It will be okay. Later, we’ll figure out something more long-lasting. If you need to go see them, and I'm not available, Hedori will take you. Until the threat from my old world has been dealt with, it will have to be this way. If you're alone for some reason, make sure you're among people then call me.” Blaéz’s expression grew cold. “They won't get a chance at us.”
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