He closed the distance she put between them, laid a hand over the welts on her arm from the backlash, and healed her.
“Without a soul, I only see right or wrong,” he said quietly. “There is no in-between for me, or so I’ve been told. I sense a transgression committed, then the person must be held accountable…” A chilling pause. “I went back to the cages because I wanted to destroy the bastards after what I’d discovered. But I found him first—”
Frowning, Darci leaned back, her gaze racing over his face. “I don’t understand — found who?”
“The one who sent those miscreants after you, outside the library. Don’t worry, they’ve been dealt with.” At the utterly cold and ruthless look in his eyes, Darci didn't ask what he’d done. Those fiends had hurt her and God knew whom else.
But how could she let him go back to that awful place, get brutalized just to keep him sane? Steeling her spine, she pushed away from him and wiped her face dry with the back of her hand. “We have to find your soul.”
“Go to Hell?” He smiled a little “They’d be on you like flies with your bright soul. No, little sun, just me.”
Paralyzing fear gripped her of what could happen if he went back. “No-no. That demon will kill you after what you did to him. I meant speak to someone — a demon, an angel to help — surely you must know somebody?”
Blaéz didn't respond. He curled a lock of her hair around his finger and drew her closer. “I don’t want to talk about this morbidness any longer. Kiss me.”
“God, Blaéz—” She let out a frustrated breath. “You’re so stubborn—”
“Fine. I’ll kiss you, then.” He slid his lips over hers.
She struggled to think, but with his distracting mouth roaming her face and trailing kisses along her jaw, her body melted against his. He licked a path down her throat. Her mind cloudy with desire, she inhaled a shaky breath, eased back and asked, “Why do you call me little sun?”
He gently stroked her cheek with his knuckles. Eyes tender. “I existed in a world of darkness… I thought I was dead… then you opened your front door, and I took my first breath. You breathed life back into me.”
Her throat tightened. Tears misted her eyes, his words healing the bruises in her heart.
She reached up kissed him. He cupped her face, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth, claiming hers. And the world slowed down until it was just the two of them. He tasted of heat, of wild sensuality, but most of all, he tasted like the man she loved.
His hands dropped to her bottom and pulled her closer. She shifted and his erection pressed into the V of her thighs. His kiss grew demanding. Embers of desire shimmered awake.
As if in response to her spiraling need, Blaéz stripped off her tank top. With warm, callused palms, he cupped her breasts. Lowering his head, he grasped her nipple with his lips and suckled, alternating between hard pulls and light licks. “God…” she moaned. Desire raw and needy returned, coalescing into an achy need.
***
Satisfaction spilled through Blaéz as Darci’s nails bit into his biceps. The scent of her arousal, warm and musky, tormented him. He released her stiff, swollen nipple and made quick work of stripping her free from her pajama pants. Naked, she was breathtaking, her face flushed with desire. Her moist, lush lips parted as she panted for air.
Blaéz simply stared, caught in her spell.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice husky.
“You,” he said, tone awed. “You take my breath away.”
He was fiercely glad then that she’d been his first, would be his last… she was his everything. Reaching out, he brushed her pert nipple with his thumb. She jolted. And so damn responsive.
Oh, indeed, he planned to kiss every inch of her again. His breath escaped in a hiss when she slid her hand between them and stroked his rigid, denim-covered sex. With a low growl, he wrapped her hair around his fist and captured her mouth in a scorching kiss. But she pulled back, protested. “Why are you still dressed?”
Why was she talking about clothes when he wanted her mouth on his? Her hand fumbled with his zipper. Shit — right. He had to get rid of the damn pants. It was in his way. He kicked free his boots and jeans in record time, then he reached for her again, but she held him off, a hand on his chest.
Frowning, he watched as she lowered to her knees and grasped his cock — a groan tore free as she stroked his aching length, then her warm tongue lapped the head. Blaéz felt as if his knees would cave. His fingers threaded through her hair. Her lips closed around him. Warm and wet, she sucked him in a languorous glide, her tongue swirling around the tip before she took him in deeper.
Fuck! This would be over before they’d even begun. “No.” He grasped her hair in a firm hold, stopping her. His cock slipped free from her mouth.
“Blaéz,” she protested.
“Later.” He pulled her up by her arms and flipped her to her belly on the bed. She shrieked in surprise. Before she turned, he trapped her legs by straddling her then skimmed his fingers down her back to squeeze her sexy backside. His mouth followed, nipping and kissing her along her spine, her whimper driving him on. He bit the firm mound, she jerked. Smiling, he licked away the sting.
“Blaéz, please—” she panted.
He eased two fingers into her, thrusting in and out of her silky sheath. She groaned, pushing back against his hand. Her inner muscles tightened, clamping around his fingers like a vise.
She was too close to the edge. He wasn’t done yet.
A whimper escaped her as he flipped her onto her back and settled between her thighs.
At her scowl, he said, “I want to see your face when you come.”
“You’re driving me insane—”
He thrust his tongue into her mouth, stopping her words, and kissed her deeply. She shifted her hips, and his cock jerked, sliding against her wet cleft.
“Fuck—” He broke the kiss.
She smiled.
He growled. In a single thrust, he sank into her warmth. Her eyes shut, unadulterated pleasure spreading across her flushed face. He could do nothing but stare. Her body fisting him so tight, he wanted this moment forever.
“Blaéz—” she made a frustrated noise. “Move.”
With preternatural speed, he rolled them to lie beneath her. Startled, she pushed to her knees.
“There, better?” he asked softly. “You’re in control now.”
Those striking hazel eyes slumberous with passion locked on his. Smiling, she tossed her curly mane over her shoulders. Oh, indeed, she’d do this her way. He didn't care. All he wanted was to watch her as she rode him.
He cupped her lush breasts, thumbed her nipples.
Nothing in his long life ever felt this complete. This perfect. My mate, my heart, the words rolled around in his head. Mine. And she was, every fragment of her. As she rose and came down on him, desire steamrolled through his body at the sliding friction like thick, molten magma.
Grasping her hips, he reached between her spread thighs to where his cock impaled her and teased her clit with his thumb. She moaned, then pushing his hand away from her, she rocked back and forth, using his lower stomach to work her clit, too. Her inner muscles tightened, sucking him in deeper. Her nails dug into his hips, the tiny pain heightening his arousal. His balls tightened.
Her body stiffened as her orgasm surged, and she hauled him over the edge as she fell, shattering his control. He grunted, his own release exploding — unbelievable pleasure coursing through him…
A moment later, she slumped over his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her and just held her.
“I hope you're comfortable—” a shaky laugh left her, “because I don’t think I can move after that.”
He brushed her hair away from her face. “Then allow me, a leannan.”
She looked up, and he covered her mouth in a tender kiss, dematerializing them back to their bedroom.
***
Darci still floated in that heady spac
e of pure pleasure when something warm and wet slid between her legs. She opened her eyes and found Blaéz cleaning her.
Squirming, she reached for the wash towel. “Wait-wait, I can do that.”
“Why?” He continued without stopping. “I’ve seen every inch of you.”
It was one thing when he was making love to her, but to look at her there now. Darci pulled the pillow over her face. Yeah, silly she knew, but still.
Soft laughter reached her. Blaéz grabbed the cushion and tossed it aside. “Don’t be embarrassed, love. I like looking at you…” When she met his gaze, he said, “When I first touched you, I was terrified I’d disappoint you.”
“Disappoint me? Can you not tell just how “disappointed” I am when I can't even move? God, Blaéz, any more disappointed and I probably wouldn’t walk for days.”
He tossed the cloth aside, his pale eyes gleaming in amusement. “It is good then that all my reading and watching has proven successful.”
Darci stilled. Then she bolted upright, her heart thudding in disbelief. “Blaéz, are you telling me that you’ve never been with anyone else — ever?”
“I haven’t.” A shrug. “My life before Tartarus was always about war. Then I lost all emotions along with sexual needs, ’til you. Another truth? I'm fiercely glad it was with you.” He lay down on the bed and drew her to him.
Darci gaped, unable to wrap her mind around what he’d just revealed.
“What?” he asked, his fingers stroking her hip when she continued to stare. He smirked. “Want to get “disappointed” again?”
A shaky laugh escaped. She pressed her lips to his jaw. “I love you,” she said softly, unable to hold back the words.
His caressing stopped. Glacier blue eyes met hers. At his hesitation, her chest tightened. It would be a lie to say the fact that he couldn’t love her didn't hurt. She made him feel, and his touch gave her body fulfillment, her life meaning. So she tucked her pain deep inside.
“It’s okay. I just want you to know how I feel. And I'm fiercely glad, too, that no other woman knew you in that way but me.”
His slight smile was pure sin. He flipped her on her back and said against her lips, “I get better with practice.”
She wound her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss. And hoped her love would be enough for the both of them.
***
Blaéz walked into the rec room later that day. Aethan and Dagan stood near the wet bar at the far end, the air around them tense. The Sumerian reached behind the counter, pulled out a narrow black case and a lighter, selected a thin cigar, and lit it. The scent of woodsmoke and cherry wafted in the air.
“Another kill,” Aethan told Blaéz before turning back to Dagan. “And you picked up nothing again?”
“I have no idea what the hell it is.” His gaze hardened with ire, the orange specks visible in the yellow irises. He tossed his case back on the counter and blew out a thin trail of smoke. “Feels supernatural. An ice-cold sensation surrounded the scene, masking any emotional strains. Can't pick up anything. I would think it was Nik’s,” he mentioned the other Guardian stationed in Romania, “but he seems to have gotten his anger issues under control. So, whoever the hell this is, he’s too calculated — always a damn step ahead of me. And I can track anyone.”
Aethan leaned against the bar counter and scratched his jaw. “A psionic?”
“It could be the damn tooth fairy and I wouldn’t know,” Dagan muttered in irritation.
Blaéz tuned out their conversation and stopped at the open French door, stewing in his own thoughts. Heavy rain clouds darkened the noon skies as a light drizzle fell. A cool breeze blew in from the Atlantic.
She loved him.
And he could say nothing. Not about the way he felt because all those emotions were hers, ones he siphoned from her. Worse, she knew. She really deserved better than him.
Needing a drink, he crossed to the bar, splashed some whiskey in a glass then just stared at the thing.
“Ready to hit the forest?” Aethan asked. “I need to work off some of this shit riding me.”
Blaéz looked up. Dagan had gone, only the lingering scent of tobacco remained. Blaéz hadn't even noticed Aethan wore their usual black Gi's and tee, or remembered that he had a training session scheduled with the warrior.
Aethan’s gray eyes narrowed, he looked Blaéz over. “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
“Is that what it is?” Blaéz swallowed some of his liquor, the burning glide down his throat fading too fast. “She loves me and I can't say shit. I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”
“Speak to Lila,” Aethan said. “The oracle will surely know something. Hell, she knew a damn sight more about Echo and me.”
Speak to Lila? Let her see exactly what he was? Through the millennia, wherever they’d been based, he’d never spoken to any of the oracles that worked with them.
But for the chance of a normal life with Darci, he might have no choice.
Why did she affect him this way? Why only her in all these centuries?
What you seek is long gone. What you see is but a shadow of what once was. Damon’s words rolled around in his head again. The only thing he ever sought was his soul… so if that was long gone… then Maloch didn't have it? No, it didn't make sense. It was the only way Maloch could summon him.
Blaéz frowned… only with Darci did he feel. It was almost as if she…
Even with his fading emotion, it felt as if a tanker had dropped on him, then exploded. Shrapnel landing all over. He stumbled back.
No. Fucking. Way.
It was all a lie. A trick his mind played on him.
“You okay, man?” Aethan’s voice came to him from a distance.
Blaéz stared blankly at his friend and shook his head. Slowly, he set the glass down on the counter. “Raincheck on the fight.”
He needed space. Distance. He had to get away from the castle and work through this keg of dynamite logically. If Darci came looking for him, he would probably destroy everything around him if emotions touched him now.
He walked out onto the wet terrace. Moments later, he found himself on the edge of the cliff. Furious waves crashed against the rock-face and sprayed him with water.
Whoever was responsible for this sick fucking joke, using Darci in their games to taunt him, he’d find the prick and make him hurt. Then he’d make him long for death.
The rains came down heavier. Thunder crashed overhead. In a flurry of wings, the birds took flight. But some remained. The crows. The Morrigan’s shape-shifting warriors. It figured.
“I want her here. Now.” They would hear him even between the rustling rain and crashing waves. At the order, the birds took off with a harsh, discordant clicking sound.
Rain drenching him, Blaéz hunkered on the cold, damp, rugged surface, arms braced on his thighs and waited…
I know you guys — the gods — have a silvery-blue aura, the angels are silvery-white, and humans are a warm yellow… but Darci’s, hers is a pale green. Echo’s comment of so long ago came back to him.
Green? How could Darci’s be green? Humans were yellow and immortals were blue. There’s no such thing as green in the aura scheme. Or there shouldn’t be.
And yet he couldn’t doubt Echo.
He scanned the turbulent skies, blinking back the rain from his eyes. What was keeping The Morrigan when she’d been practically tripping on his heels recently? Only she could confirm his suspicion. And if it proved true, then the Fates had played a damn sick joke on him.
Chapter 24
Darci jerked upright in bed, her heart thudding at the harsh, dissonant sounds of crashing thunder. Lightning brightened the bedroom as rain drummed against the glass panes.
Blaéz’s side of the bed was empty. She wasn't surprised, but just thinking about him and a smile curved her mouth. Pushing the covers aside, she raked back her tangled hair and found Blaéz’s discarded t-shirt on the bed. She blew out a tired breath as
she pulled it on. Well, no surprise there, the man had kept her awake until early hours of the morning.
She padded to the half-open bedroom window to stare out at the gray miasma-covered garden.
A shiver raced over her skin. Darci rubbed her arms. About to close the window, a bird flew straight at her. She shrieked and leaped back. God! Pressing a hand to her pounding chest, she eyed the raven circling the room and hoped it would leave.
Darci froze. A blue-eyed bird?
The air shifted around the raven. A black tornado swirled and grew until it morphed into a tall, glowing form. Her heart banging wildly against her ribs, Darci edged back, and watched the figure take shape. The glow faded. In the bird’s place stood a woman. She pushed back the hood of her dark green cloak, revealing a face of such incredible beauty, that Darci simply stared.
Pale skinned and with eyes so blue it hurt to look too long into them, the woman was stunning; in the same way the warriors were ruggedly handsome. Was she one of them, too?
Darci kept a careful distance from her. “Who are you?”
The woman’s cool gaze skimmed over Darci. “I am left with little choice but to seek you out.”
“Me?” Darci eyed her warily. “What did I do?”
“Not a lot, from what I’ve seen.” Her tone was filled with annoyance. “Since you find it difficult to remember, I am forced to appear.”
There was something vaguely familiar about her, and then it clicked. “You. You watched me at my home as a bird — you came to me in that dream — the shadow woman. You scared the hell out of me!”
“It appears I must prod you forward every step of the way.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Let’s not waste time. Blaéz. Only you can save him from eternal darkness. Without his soul, he will be lost soon. He hovers too close to the edge.”
Darci’s stomach flipped over in dread. This woman reiterated the very thing that worried her. “How do you know this? Who are you?”
“I am The Morrigan.” She gave Darci an imperious stare. “Blaéz is my son.”
Breaking Fate Page 24
