“And if it doesn’t?” she challenged, tears now streaming down her face.
Damn, it nearly killed him to see her cry. “Shhh…” he soothed, bending down to kiss her face, tasting every place her tears touched—her eyes, her cheeks, and neck. But soon his kisses turned from comforting to demanding as his body sparked the plea for one last time.
Anya must have felt it, too, because her body welcomed his demands and issued a few of her own. Maybe some sixth sense inside her knew he wasn’t coming back to her, at least not alive…
Three days… Three days he waited while Gahn—the bastard—refused to see him. By the time an audience was granted, Haden was murderously pissed off. He knew Gahn was fucking with him, giving him a little payback for all those summons he’d ignored over the past five months. And each hour that passed didn’t bode well for the demon’s amicability. By the time Haden walked in through the doors of the Dark Court, he knew he had about a snowball’s chance in hell of walking out of there, so he didn’t even try to pull his punches.
“I want out!” Haden demanded as he stormed into the chamber. One of the hounds standing near the entrance leapt to its feet, the animal’s eyes glowing red in the dim lighting. Froth hung from its jowls, its sharp teeth flashing a menacing snarl as it snapped at his ankle.
Haden paused long enough to drive his booted heel into the side of the animal’s head. A loud yelp echoed throughout the chamber as Haden continued to stride purposefully toward Gahn, who watched him with a look of surprised amusement.
“So…the Prodigal Son returns at last.”
The sickly sweet cadence of his voice almost gave Haden a glimmer of hope that Gahn would release him.
“Tell me, my boy, where have you been?”
“You ask me that as if you don’t know.”
Gahn shrugged and cast him a blasé glance before feigning interest with something stuck under his long, gnarled nail. But Haden wasn’t buying the act. Gahn was furious—livid. He could see it in the flashes of red sparking the demon’s coal black eyes.
“You’re an ungrateful shit, you know that?” he snapped, locking his menacing glare on him. “You want out? After all I’ve done for you? You want out!” he bellowed, slamming his fist onto the arm of his chair. “You stupid son of a bitch! The only reason you’re alive is because I allow you to live. I own you and don’t you ever fucking forget it! If you want mercy, then you came to the wrong throne, boy! I’ve raised you from a pup, and this is the thanks I get!”
“I have served you for thousands of years! Without fail!” Haden yelled back. “Do you know how much blood I’ve spilt for you?”
“Not enough,” came Gahn’s cold, detached reply, momentarily rendering Haden speechless.
“Not enough?! Will you damn me to an eternity of murdering for you? Seventy-five years, that’s all I ask—one mortal lifetime. And then I’ll return to you faithfully in service, forever in your debt.”
“You are forever in my debt right now, and if I thought there was a chance you’d redeem yourself and return to that petulant shithole in Africa to do what I sent you there to do…” Gahn shook his head. “Seventy-five years,” he scoffed. “And what of the young she carries in her womb? And their young, and their young after that? All of them—sighted Nephilim! Did you honestly think, for one second, that I’d allow you to breed your own race and make yourself a god? Haden, even if there was a small measure of kindness inside me and I would have agreed to grant you your mortal’s lifetime, you killed her the moment you fucked her and infected her with your seed.”
In that moment, Haden knew. He knew why Gahn had refused to see him for three days and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Anya was dead. Grief ripped the denial from his throat as he prayed to a God who must truly hate him. “Noooo!!!”
“This seat taken?”
Haden jumped. Holy hell, he hadn’t even heard anyone sneaking up on him. When he opened his eyes, he knew why. Shit…
“For you, it is,” Haden replied in a bored, don’t-start-with-me growl.
“Good.” Liam swiped at Haden’s legs like a mother bear cuffing her cub, knocking them off the chair. They hit the floor with a sold thud, and Liam slid into the seat across from him. He didn’t speak. The irritating bastard just sat there staring at him like some science experiment gone wrong.
“I’m surprised you found me so easily without that demon’s stench to follow. Damn, they do stink, don’t they?”
Liam’s brow arched questioningly. Still he didn’t speak.
“Look, you can either speak, or you can pantomime this shit out, but I am not, nor will I ever be, a mind reader.”
“How are you tracking Olivia?” Liam finally asked.
“Lucky guess?”
“Bullshit.”
“You’re right. Luck has never been on my side—”
“What are you?” Liam demanded.
Haden let out a sarcastic snort. “What do you think I am?”
Liam scowled. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking, asshole. I know you’re not one of them. Your energy is different—”
“Ahh…but a force to be reckoned with, no less.”
Liam tensed and his energy spiked, throwing off reflections of crimson and amethyst that coincidently matched the color change in his eyes. “Who are you? What are you?” he rephrased the question. “You’re not demonic, but your soul is as black as theirs.” He refused to look away, the warrior’s eyes remained cold and calculating. “What do you want with Olivia?”
“Tell you what,” Haden said, picking at his eyetooth with his tongue in bored interest. “You have questions and I have answers… I’ll play you for them.”
“What?” Liam snapped, looking at Haden like he’d just lost his mind.
Maybe he had… “Pool,” he said, getting up from his seat and snatching the Tequila off the table. He tipped the bottle back and took a long pull, abandoning the glass as he sauntered to the gaming corner. “You sink a ball, I’ll answer a question. I sink a ball, you answer one of mine.”
Liam rolled his eyes and slid from the booth, following him to the back. He didn’t miss the lithe grace in which the warrior moved—completely fluid and in control. Yeah, he could take Rowen, easy. The only regret Haden had was that he was going to miss the show.
“Where are Rowen and his legion?”
Haden slid the quarters in the slot, shoved the lever forward, and jerked it back, releasing a cascade of balls. He pulled the white one out of the rack and tossed it at Liam with enough speed and stank to test the warrior’s reflexes. He snatched it out of the air with a reflexive flick of his wrist. Impressive… An approving grin spread across Haden’s face. “I think that constitutes a question. Rack ‘em up. And no angelic magic. You’ll play me fair and square,” he said, pulling a stick off the wall and chalking it up.
Liam shot him an irritated glare, snatching the triangle off the hook on the wall and slamming it down on the table. He racked the balls and grabbed the stick closest to him. Haden watched as he lined up the cue and drove it into the balls. A loud crack rang out in the empty bar as pool balls ricocheted off the side bumpers, scattering across the table. Two solid-colored balls rolled into the right corner pocket, and Liam looked up at Haden expectantly.
“Nice…” Haden said, nodding approvingly.
Liam didn’t reply. He stood near the table, staring at Haden with an amethyst glow in his deep violet eyes.
“Evercrest…” Haden answered, casually. “Cale and Rhen are in Evercrest. I expect they’ll be rollin’ in sometime tomorrow morning. Not sure where Rowen is at the moment. Of course, if I were you, I’d be makin’ it my priority to find him right quick. He’s got a hard-on for that female of yours and his only orders are to kill her, don’t matter to the Dark Court how she gets that way.”
Now, that got the warrior’s blood boiling. Haden bit the inside of his cheek to keep the satisfied smirk off his face.
“Yeah, he’s around here, somewhere. I
told him to piss off this morning.” He took another swig of Tequila. “That one really tries my patience. He can be a real asshole, in case you didn’t know.”
Liam let out a sarcastic laugh. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”
Haden shrugged. “‘S’pose it is,” he replied, offering Liam the bottle of Tequila.
He shook his head. Of course he would. No self-respecting Ronnin would be caught dead sucking from the same bottle as a Nephilim. “Suit yourself. Just bein’ friendly, is all.”
Liam walked over to the bar and came back a minute later with a Beck’s in his hand. He took a sip and set the bottle on the rail. Lining up another shot, he slammed a solid into the left corner pocket. “What do you want with Olivia?” he asked, swiping his beer and tipping it back.
Haden smiled. “She certainly is a beautiful little thing, isn’t she?”
The muscle in Liam’s jaw twitched, his eyes flashing jade with an amethyst hue. Haden was quickly finding that he rather enjoyed pushing the warrior’s buttons. His eyes were like a damn Lite Brite.
“I don’t recall my question having anything to do with her appearance,” he growled.
Haden chuckled. “No, that one was a gimme. Don’t worry, if I wanted that female dead, she already would be. Of course, don’t get me wrong. I’m not above it, if this doesn’t go down the way I need it to.”
“Meaning…?”
“Meaning, she has something I want.” He chugged a pull of Tequila, gauging the warrior’s reaction. The color in his eyes intensified, along with his energy spike, and that’s when he realized the colors changed with emotional triggers. That was…pretty freaking awesome, if you asked him, and a whole hell of a lot of fun to mess with.
“What do you want?” Liam growled, looking like he had a mind to crack that Beck’s upside Haden’s skull.
Haden held up his hands in surrender and chuckled. “Take it easy, soldier. I’m not gonna lift my skirt and drop my panties for you just yet. What fun would that be? It’s still your shot,” he said, nodding to the pool stick in Liam’s hand.
Liam grumbled something foul and foreign-sounding under his breath and shot again, sinking another solid ball. “What do you want from her?”
He gave Liam a flippant wave of his hand. “Pleading the Fifth, ask another question.”
That earned him another flash of amethyst. So apparently that color meant step-the-fuck-back. “What are you?” he asked, glaring at Haden from across the table.
“Hey, that’s three in a row.” He nodded at the table, ignoring the question. “You sure this is all you?” he asked doubtfully.
Liam grabbed his beer off the table and drank it half down. “It’s all me. Now, answer the damn question.”
He sighed dramatically. “I’m a hunter. But then again, I’m sure you already know that. I’ve been assigned to track Olivia for Rowen and his band of bastards.”
“How are you tracking her?”
He laughed. “Now if you want me to answer that one, you’re going to have to buy me dinner and a movie first. I’m not that easy.”
“Then tell me something I don’t know.”
Haden shrugged. “I like the color purple,” he replied flippantly. “It looks good on you.”
“You son of a bitch!” Liam growled, leaping over the table with surprising speed and agility. He flipped his pool stick sideways and crashed into Haden, using it to leverage him back. They didn’t stop until he crashed against the wall. He took the hit, letting the warrior muscle him around, getting a feel for the angel’s strength while revealing none of his own. Just as he thought, the Ronnin was strong—powerful—and he suspected he was only getting a small taste of it.
“This is not a game!” Liam growled. “Olivia is not a game! Whatever you are, it doesn’t really matter, because you all die the same!”
The thin thread of Haden’s temper snapped—playtime was over. Self-righteous son of a bitch! Reaching up, he grabbed the stick and shoved it off his windpipe. “Not all of us got to choose sides in this war,” he hissed with contempt. “Some of us were unfortunate enough to be born into it!”
Surprise briefly flittered across Liam’s face. “It can’t be…” he whispered, searching Haden’s eyes intently for the truth.
“Oh, it can be. Imagine spending your entire life in the bowels of Hell, knowing the Creator of the Universe tried to kill you!” Haden let his own energy surge, giving Liam a little taste of his own power. “Needless to say, I have daddy issues,” he sneered, snapping the pool stick in half as he drove his knee up into Liam’s side. He felt a satisfying crack as the warrior’s rib gave way. It was a dirty move, but then again, when Hell owned you, who said you had to play by the rules?
If he thought that little rib crack would slow the angel down, then he’d thought wrong. The blow didn’t faze the tough bastard and only seemed to further piss him off. With impressive preternatural speed, the warrior grabbed him by the front of his shirt and made him airborne, slamming him down onto the pool table. Balls scattered everywhere as the table shook, threatening to collapse. “Your ‘issues’ have nothing to do with Olivia.”
“You’re wrong,” he snarled back. “It has everything to do with her!”
“Stay away from her!” Liam warned, pausing to glance around the table. “Looks like this little game is over.”
With blurring speed, Liam drove his elbow into Haden’s jaw. Sharp pain exploded in the side of his face, his lip split, and his head snapped back, ricocheting off the felt-covered table.
Liam grabbed his beer, finished it in two seconds and slammed it down beside Haden’s face before turning to walk away.
Haden did a handspring off the table, landing solidly on his feet, and reached up with the back of his hand to wipe the trail of blood off the corner of his mouth. “But I haven’t had my turn yet,” he sneered. “And trust me, you’ll want to hear this...”
Chapter Nineteen
Cale walked up to the front steps of Mitch’s house while Rhen hung back in the driveway. He knocked—waited—and when Mitch didn’t answer, he pounded a few more times and added the doorbell into the mix.
“You think he’s having second thoughts?” Rhen called, kicking small rocks against the garage door. They ricocheted off the metal door, shooting into the guy’s manicured lawn. He shook his head at Rhen’s bored, destructive antics.
“Nah… He’ll be ready.” Cale banged on the door again and jabbed his finger into the button, chiming away.
“You seem pretty certain about this guy.”
“That’s because I am. You’ve seen Olivia. You think this guy’s gonna let that sweet piece of ass go without a fight? Damn, just thinking about her makes me hard.”
Rhen laughed. “What doesn’t?”
“You—”
“Thank God, or else your ass would be riding to Vegas in the trunk.”
Cale chuckled. “Man, I can’t wait to see the look on that warrior’s face when Mitch gets there. Shit is gonna hit the fan.”
“Yeah, if this asshole would hurry up and answer his damn door.” Cale was banging his fist against the wood when a car pulled into the driveway.
“Here he is,” Rhen called as the dark blue Audi crawled past him and pulled into the garage.
Cale hopped off the steps and strolled over to their new road trip buddy. You about ready to go, Mitch? Time’s a wastin’. At this rate, we may not make it to Vegas anytime soon.”
Mitch climbed out of his car, slammed the door shut, and winced as if the loud noise had just driven one more hangover spike into his brain. If this guy didn’t cool it with the booze, he wasn’t gonna be good for shit. He shot Cale a redeeming scowl that made him smile. Perhaps this surly bastard was just what they needed after all.
“Vegas? He took my fiancée to Vegas?” Mitch barked. “What in the hell is he gonna do with her there, marry her?”
Cale laughed. Yeah, this guy was gonna be loads of entertainment. “I don’t know, my man.
Why don’t you just go grab your shit so we can roll?”
“Give me five,” he grumbled, sloshing up to the house. “Oh, hey, I got a friend who’s coming with me. I tried to dissuade her, but she’s insisting. Hope you don’t mind.”
Her…? Hell, this road trip might just shape up to be even more fun than they’d bargained for. Maybe they’d stop for the night, after all. “By all means,” Cale called, “tell your ‘friend’ she’s more than welcome to come along. More the merrier, I say.”
Mitch was still in the house packing when a yellow mustang pulled into the driveway and parked beside them. From where Cale stood, he could see the female was blonde and had long, curly hair. She wore dark oversized sunglasses that hid her face from his view, but still…there was something awfully familiar about her. He was walking around the side of the convertible to get a closer look when she cut the engine and tipped up those Brittany Spears sunglasses to rest on the top of her head.
The moment their eyes locked, he instantly recognized the woman. How in the hell could he forget? He’d nearly gotten his jaw broken because of her. “Shit…” he hissed, casting his eyes to the ground and spinning around. Rhen noticed his not-so-smooth duck and weave, and arched his brow questioningly.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he growled under his breath as Cale walked by to go wait in the Mustang’s blind spot.
“Nothing,” he grumbled. “I just want to get going, is all.”
Rhen wasn’t buyin’ it. He bent his head, taking a closer look at the female waiting patiently inside the car. “Hey… Isn’t that… Shit, that’s Balen’s ward! Well, isn’t this going to make for an unfortunate chain of events.”
“You don’t even know the half of it,” Cale grumbled under his breath.
***
It had been three years, but three lifetimes couldn’t make Ashley forget the night she met Cale. How could she forget the tight biting grip of his hand on her arm as he jerked her against him—or the lustful look in Cale’s coal black eyes as they devoured her on that dance floor. Nor would she ever forget the long scar that ran down the side of his face or the smoky, sulfurous stench of his mouth as he forced his kiss on her.
The Redemption Series Page 49
