“All right. I’ll be there in—” she glanced down at her watch “—twenty minutes. Sure. No problem.” Ashley hung up the phone. “Sorry, Liv, I gotta go. Nate’s car is dead.”
“It’s fine. Go. We’ll catch up later.”
Olivia sat at the kitchen table, finishing her cold tea as Ashley saw herself out. A melee of emotions played havoc on her mood. No longer did she feel like going out for dinner. All she wanted right now was a hot bath and a good cry, and not necessarily in that order. Ashley and EPT were probably right, she wasn’t pregnant, after all. The wave of relief she was waiting for didn’t come, but instead, a pang of regret pierced her heart that was suddenly filled with longing.
Maybe it was selfish, but part of her desperately wanted to have Liam’s baby, and after thinking of nothing else for the last several days, the idea of it had begun to grow on her. The first time she’d taken the home pregnancy test and it turned up negative, she’d been relieved. It was just too much to handle right now. But as the days passed and she continued to take test after test, Olivia began to find herself holding her breath in anticipation, and then actually rooting for the plus sign.
She knew it was wrong to want to bring a child into this broken, evil world—especially a Nephilim child. Yet, she couldn’t help but want it. Exhaling a frustrated sigh, Olivia propped her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands, trying to work up the ambition to drag her tired, sleep-deprived ass upstairs.
“Are you drinking?” The barked question startled her and she jumped out of her seat. Olivia’s head snapped up, eyes locking on Haden. His pinched scowl shot to the open bottle of merlot and half-empty glass. “I thought you’d be picking out nursery colors by now, not getting shit-faced at the kitchen table.”
“I’m not drinking,” she defended herself, surprised as hell to see Haden standing in her kitchen. “Ashley was over. What are you doing here? I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“Neither did I.” He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and sat down across from her.
“Help yourself,” she grumbled as he poured it to the brim and began chugging it like a glass of water. So he really had intended to walk out of her life. That stung more than she wanted to admit. “What does it matter if I’m drinking, anyway? I’m not pregnant,” she announced irritably. “And I’ll thank you to stop saying I am.”
He sat the glass down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes, you are.”
“EPT says I’m not. And you know what that stands for, right? Error Proof Test. I’m not pregnant, Haden.”
“I don’t give a fuck what your little stick says. You are.”
“How do you know?” she challenged, crossing her arms over her chest. “How can you be so sure?”
He grabbed a mint from the candy dish in the center of the table and took his time unwrapping it. “Because, your light has changed.”
“My what?”
“Your light is like a beacon. It’s what draws me to you. That’s how I found you in Vegas, and then in the glades. It’s how I can tell that you’re sighted. Your energy gives off a spectrum of colors other people don’t have, and those colors have changed. They’re darker now, more vibrant—richer.”
He popped the mint into his mouth and she scowled. “That’s it? That’s what you’re basing this on? Unbelievable…” Olivia dug her hands into her hair and shook her head, praying the madness would stop. Well, thank God she hadn’t told Liam before he left, that she was pregnant. “I’ve been in knots for days, pissing on a stick every few hours because my ‘color has changed’?”
Haden’s sea-green gaze narrowed venomously. He learned across the table, stopping so close his black licorice scent teased her nostrils. The heat from his body rolled off him in furious waves. “‘That’s it?’ That’s enough! I’ve seen it before, Olivia—many times. I saw it in my own wife the day my seed took root in her womb.”
The air left her lungs in a defeated exhalation. Anya had been pregnant? She searched his penetrating glare for some sign of emotion other than anger. It was his favorite one, the one he most often hid behind, but there was nothing there to evidence the heartache he most certainly felt at speaking of his loss. Haden rarely mentioned Anya, the woman who’d been killed so many years ago at Gahn’s command.
“Oh, Haden, I’m so sorry…” Impulsively, she reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled it back.
“I told you before, Olivia, I don’t want your sympathy. That’s not why I’m here.”
“Why are you here?” she challenged, bristling at his rejection. “And where’s Liam?” A question she felt a bit chagrined at not having asked the moment Haden stepped into the kitchen. She glanced at the door, hoping any second her angel would come walking through it.
“Still in court. He was detained by one of the elders. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be along soon.”
The knot of dread curling in her gut eased a touch at his assurance, and then immediately tightened again as she got a closer look at him. Haden’s bottom lip was cut and a purplish bruise-colored his left cheek. “What happened to your face?” Before she could think better of it, she reached up and took hold of his jaw, angling his cheek toward the light.
“It’s fine,” he grumbled, tipping his chin up, pulling away from her touch like a defiant child.
“Who did this to you?” she demanded, probably sounding like an overbearing mother.
He arched his brow as if to say “Do you really have to ask?”
“Why would Liam do that to you?”
Haden scowled at the accusation in her voice. “Clearly, I must have deserved it, right? Why else would your perfect angel succumb to unnecessary violence?”
“Well…did you?”
He shrugged. “Probably.”
Olivia sighed. When was this going to end? The animosity between these two just continued to grow. Foolishly, she’d hoped that after they’d worked together to save her from Gahn, they at least might have formed some semblance of a friendship. Now it seemed the chances of that happening were less than nil. “Haden, we need to talk.”
He stood as if to leave. “I don’t think so, Olivia. I think we’ve both said more than enough already.”
“I disagree.” She rose to meet him and defiantly crossed her arms over her chest. Too late, she realized the action had quite the opposite effect than she was hoping for.
Haden’s gaze dropped boldly to her up-thrust cleavage. He didn’t even attempt to disguise the hunger in his darkening gaze. Her cheeks flushed, heat spreading down her neck, making her pulse quicken and her chest tighten.
“Well, unfortunately for you, this relationship isn’t a democracy—.”
When that unwelcomed heat centered in the pit of Olivia’s stomach, awakening a parade of butterflies, she knew she was in trouble. Flustered, she dropped her arms to her sides and stomped her foot to get Haden’s attention. “No, you’re right. This is a dictatorship. Perhaps I’ll start calling you Stalin.”
“Careful, Olivia, lest you prophesy your own demise. Stalin was a killer who murdered his own people—those he’d sworn to protect. Which in this case, would be you.”
“Oh please, we’re far beyond the days of threats. I don’t fear you, Haden—.”
“You say you don’t fear me; you say you don’t love me. You say a lot of things, Olivia. What is the truth?” He gave a non-committal shrug. “I guess only you truly know the answer to that, or perhaps you’re in such denial that you don’t even know your own heart anymore. Maybe you should spend some of this time while Liam is away in a little self-reflection. I’m no prophetic scholar, but I have a feeling your life is about to take some sharp twists and turns—not all of them pleasant.”
He turned to leave, and Olivia grabbed his wrist. It was just like him to drop an enigmatic bomb on her and then walk away—bastard. The muscles in his arm leapt beneath her touch, hardening to granite. He swung his head around, pinning her with a baleful glare. Something
dangerous flashed in those pale green eyes that made her pulse quicken. Okay, maybe she did fear him—a little. No doubt he could sense it, too because an arrogant grin tugged at his top lip as if to say “I told you so.”
She’d seen this look before…It was the same defiant flare of desire that had been in his eyes a moment before he’d kissed her in the dressing room. Against her will, unbidden memories of their heated exchange came rushing to the forefront of her mind. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment at the memory of her wanton behavior—the dark, seductive flavor of his kiss, as forbidden as his black licorice scent. She could still feel the demanding, possessive urgency of his hands as they slipped beneath her shirt and captured her breasts in a grip that bordered on painful, yet felt so good and so wrong at the same time.
She’d convinced herself the ploy was necessary, a means to escape her captor. And to her credit, it’d almost worked. But if Olivia was honest with herself, a trait Haden seemed to think she lacked, there’d been a small part of her that had used the opportunity as an excuse to satisfy her curiosity about the dark angel. In her defense, she’d lost her memory of Liam, and honestly didn’t believe she’d ever see him again. For all she knew, he’d abandoned her forever.
“Thinking about it, aren’t ya?”
The seductive rasp of his voice snapped her out of her mental tailspin. “If by ‘it’ you mean what an insufferable ass you are, then yes, I’m thinking about it.”
His brow arched wickedly. “I wonder…when Liam kisses you, can he taste the salt of your lies? I know I certainly could. In fact, I’m certain that if I kissed you right now, that briny bite would eagerly greet my tongue.”
“And my knee would eagerly greet your balls. I believe they’ve met before. Perhaps they need to get reacquainted?”
Haden laughed—a rarity that caught her off-guard. Reaching for her, he swept a fallen lock of hair behind her ear. The tingle of heat left behind by his touch was an unwelcome reminder she was skating a thin line with a very dangerous opponent—one who didn’t play by the rules.
“It might be worth it,” he whispered huskily.
“Was it the last time?” she asked, a reminder that she would, indeed, make good on her threat.
Haden twisted that lock of hair around his fingers until he had a firm grip and tugged hard enough to wring a startled gasp from her lips. Boldly, he met her stare, defying her to look away, and growled, “Yes.”
Her stomach did a wholly unpleasant flip, her pulse quickening in her chest, and damn if she didn’t cow. Olivia closed her eyes against the heated desire that darkened Haden’s gaze. Like his angelic kin, his eyes changed with his emotions, but they did not take on the full color spectrum like his counterpart. They remained green, turning the deepest shades of emerald. Nonetheless, she recognized that verdant burn for exactly what it was. Something dangerous—something she ought not to tangle with.
“Please, Haden…stop,” she whispered. “How many times do we have to do this?” Her voice cracked with a broken sob. “How many times are you going to make me say things that will only hurt you?”
He exhaled a frustrated sigh, and she felt the tension on her hair release. When she opened her eyes, it was to see him pinching the bridge of his nose in utter frustration, his eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know, Olivia, perhaps as many times as it takes for you to admit the truth.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“There seem to be a problem here, Dove?”
Olivia startled at the unexpected intrusion. Haden tensed, a low-warning growl chortling deep in his throat, making him sound feral. He shifted his weight just enough to put himself between her and Tate. By the questioning look Tate shot her way, he hadn’t missed the protective gesture, and she wondered if Haden realized what he’d done.
“Who are you?” they each demanded of the other.
Although Tate’s voice held that easy-going cadence, his body language was lethal. At full height, he topped Haden by a few inches and probably twenty pounds. Not that Haden looked the least bit concerned. Without taking his eyes off Tate, he reached behind him and grabbed Olivia’s hand, tugging her close and shielding her with his body.
Olivia stumbled into his back and grabbed hold of his waist for balance. That was a mistake. She definitely didn’t need to feel the flat of his stomach or the flinch of those muscles responding to her poorly placed touch.
What was he doing? Did he think Tate was here to harm her? The angel’s scowl darkened, his keen amethyst eyes missing nothing as they darted from her to Haden, then back to her again.
“I am Olivia’s guardian. Who in the hell are you and why are you touching my charge?”
“Maybe you were her guardian—once. But you’re not anymore. Feel free to return to your little puff cloud in the sky—.”
A derogatory snort of laughter tore from Tate’s throat. “On whose authority?—yours?” His eyes locked on her. “What say you, Dove? Do you count this cur friend or foe?”
Before she could reply, Tate took a step toward Haden and growled, “Pray she claims you, or I vow this day will be your last.”
“Haden, no.” When he stepped forward to counter the angel, Olivia slipped her arms around his waist and held tight. It was a feeble attempt to anchor him in place. She was genuinely surprised when it worked. Her strength was nothing compared to his, and knew she only succeeded in holding him back because he allowed her to. Perhaps he was taking pleasure in the fact that her breasts were crushed into his back, and her heart was hammering against his spine.
“It’s true,” she rushed to interject before this confrontation got any more out of control, but at the mention of Haden’s name, something in Tate’s eyes had hardened to stone. “Haden is my friend. And Haden, Tate is my guardian. He’s staying with me until Liam returns.” She was reluctant to let Haden go until Tate stepped back. “Please, Tate give us a few minutes.”
For what felt like an eternity, the angel didn’t move. He stood there, sharing his time between glowering at Haden and then curiously watching her as if working together the pieces of a puzzle and not liking the way they fit. All the while, Haden felt like a powder keg ready to explode. His muscles were like flesh-covered granite, the tension he kept on her arms promising the moment she let him go, he’d launch across this room and attack Tate.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. My loyalty is to Liam, and I think he wouldn’t want me to leave you alone with him. Sorry, poppet.”
Damn Tate, he just wasn’t going to make this easy for her, was he? She had to get Haden out of here before a bad situation turned worse. Exhaling an exasperated sigh, she snapped, “Fine, stay here. Haden was just leaving, anyway.” She unwound one arm from his waist, and it wasn’t until she had a tight hold on his hand that she let go with the other. Leading him toward the door, Olivia tugged him along like a stubborn mule.
When they passed Tate, the low-warning growls echoing from the two males sent a shiver up her spine. They were like two-alpha dogs pissing in each other’s territory. Seriously…couldn’t they just try to get along?—for her?
Stopping at the door, she swung it open and spoke in a whispered voice. “Look, Haden, I’m glad things went well at court, but you can’t stay here. It’s just too complicated…”
Cocking that arrogant tawny brow of his, Haden’s low-spoken sneer sounded more like a growl. “I never said it went well, Olivia. And I’m sure as hell not here because I want to be.”
“Then why are you here?” she challenged.
It wasn’t until he yanked his hand from her grasp that she realized she was still clutching it—clinging to him was more like it. What in the hell was wrong with her?
“It’s late, Olivia. Get some sleep. You’ll need it. I’m sure Liam will be along as soon as he’s able. He was less than thrilled at being detained.”
Haden walked out the door, but before she could stop herself, she called aft
er him. “Where will you go?”
He stopped, and then slowly turned his head to look at her. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.” Dammit anyway, it did. And she hated herself for it.
“Don’t worry. You can’t get rid of me that easily. It seems the High Court has a twisted sense of humor.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ask Liam,” he grumbled, descending the steps with rapid-fire staccato. Haden didn’t look back as he crossed the street and then turned out of sight.
Olivia closed the door and exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Resting her forehead against the oval stained-glass window, she stood there a moment, trying to gather her thoughts and calm her racing heart. After a moment, she turned to go find Tate and collided with a solid wall of muscle. She let out a startled yelp, and he grabbed her shoulders, steadying her.
“Dammit, Tate, what did I say about sneaking up on me? You’re supposed to make noise, remember? And stop looking at me like that.”
“So that was Haden?”
He’d heard of him…? Well, that couldn’t be good. The scrutiny of Tate’s dark violet gaze carried the uncomfortable weight of condemnation. Whether imagined or justified, it hurt all the same. “What is going on between you and the Nephilim?”
“Nothing...”
“Do you count me a fool, Olivia? It’s obvious you care for him.”
“Of course I care for him. I don’t deny that. He’s my friend. I care for you, too. That doesn’t mean I’m in love with you, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. But then, I don’t look at you as if I’d like to toss your skirt and swive your brains out, either.”
Olivia gasped, stunned by Tate’s frankness. Though by now, she probably shouldn’t be. The angel didn’t mince his words, and although his choice of dialect may be a bit archaic-sounding at times, she had absolutely no trouble following his meaning.
The Redemption Series Page 108
