Marked By Hades (Entangled Embrace)

by Monroe, Reese

  It took all her willpower to stay put. She couldn’t let a total stranger, no matter how sexy or angelic he was, buy her food. Evidently self-preservation took over, because she moved toward him as if on autopilot.

  He stood at the register, his back mostly to her, and dug out his wallet. Thumbing through a wad of cash, he pulled out a hundred-dollar bill to pay.

  Maybe she could play him for some of those bills.

  The thought tasted like bitter bile in her mouth, and she hadn’t even said it aloud.

  She hated the confusion roaring through her, the not knowing what or who she was. And right when she needed to be strong to resist touching this tall, generous, glowing stranger, all the angst of her situation pummeled into her.

  She wanted to touch him very badly.

  “Come on.” He held out his hand.

  She waved it off and moved forward. “You lead.”

  He paused for a breath, eyeing her shoulders again, then abruptly strode through the doors. The cool November air met her exposed skin with a slap, sending a chill rattling through her.

  “You do realize it’s winter, right?” He glanced over his shoulder as he led onward.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Fond of that phrase, aren’t you?” He stopped, then handed her the bag of goodies and shrugged out of his jacket. “I won’t have you freezing.” He clamped his jaw down and shook his head. It looked to be more out of frustration than worry.

  She’d had a vivid imagination of what might be beneath that jacket of his, and he didn’t disappoint. He wore long sleeves, but his muscles pulled the fabric tight across the chest and biceps, promising hours of excitement if she could touch his body.

  The shirt tucked into a narrow waist, and a black belt held up the faded jeans. Combat boots again.

  Damn, he was sexy. Dangerous, too.

  She shook her head free of the thoughts. Before she’d noticed, he reached for her arm. She jerked back, narrowly avoiding contact.

  “I won’t hurt you. Put this on.”

  She handed him the grocery bag and took the coat. It carried a hint of spice…bergamot. Yes, that fresh, rejuvenating smell infused her senses as she put on the jacket. She swam in it but reveled in the warmth still clinging to the fabric. “Thanks.”

  Pointing to a bench ahead, he said, “Let’s sit. I’m hungry.”

  She wrestled back a small smile. He was bossy, yet she couldn’t find a reason to get angry with him. His actions seemed so genuine despite the commanding tone clinging to his words.

  His tense jaw twitched as he lowered himself to the bench. “Sit.”

  “No need to bark orders at me.” She moved to the end farthest from him, hugging his warm jacket.

  He dug into the bag and pulled out a root beer and an energy bar. “Start with this.”

  Too hungry to yell at him for bossing her around again, she snatched the goodies from his hand. He was silent the entire time she scarfed down two bars and her root beer.

  “Knew you were hungry.” He grinned as he finished eating a slice of pizza. She hadn’t even seen him grab one. Probably too busy daydreaming about touching his smooth, pale skin.

  She shifted away. The intensity of his stare burned a hole right through the jacket and leather she was wearing. It made a beeline for her heart and sent it strumming.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, then took a bite of a candy bar.

  “Yvonne.” She eyed the bag, salivating for the salt and vinegar chips.

  He nudged it toward her. “You have a last name?”

  She shook her head, knowing she probably did, but she just had no idea what it was.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Look. Thanks for the food. I better go.” She pushed up from the seat.

  Dumping his food on the bench, he hopped to his feet. “Don’t.”

  She should go—absolutely needed to keep walking and not stop. Never mind she had no idea where to go. Never mind she didn’t have a dime to her name. Never mind she had no extra clothes or anything…

  “Do you have somewhere to stay?”

  She’d actually staked claim to the bench she’d landed on in Riley Park all those days ago. It was so cold, though. He quirked his eyebrow up and tilted his head to the side as if trying to hack into her mind and read her thoughts.

  “You’re coming with me.” He reached down and gathered the bag, then faced her.

  “And why would I go with a complete stranger?” She tried to keep her voice from cracking, but she didn’t quite make it. Damn, she hated sounding weak.

  Firm fingers curled around her hand, and she jerked away. With reflexes every bit as quick as she’d thought they’d be, he caught her gloved fingers before she could move out of his reach.

  “I’m Justin.” He grinned. “There, we’re not strangers.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but couldn’t snatch a thought from her brain with him holding her hand so tightly. Sure, she couldn’t feel his skin through the leather, but still.

  “I’m two blocks from here. I won’t hurt you, Yvonne. I vow it.”

  The instant the words left his mouth, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He was too pure. His glow sent waves of peace through her, warming her. Calming her.

  But if she went with him, she’d either have the best night’s sleep ever or wind up accidentally killing him.

  Chapter Eight

  Every instinct to protect and care for this stranger named Yvonne fired in Justin so intensely he thought his insides would liquefy.

  Yet she didn’t bear his Mark. It always showed on the left shoulder, and he’d checked both several times. Nothing other than a faded bruise.

  He felt his Mate near, though. Nothing made sense. He knew this Mate shit was jacked up.

  And if Yvonne licked that lip ring one more time, he might not be able to restrain himself.

  Shrugging through the blast of wind, he repositioned the bag of remaining food to his other hand, searching for something to talk about.

  So badly he wanted to ask about how she’d turned that guy assaulting her to dust, but as skittish as she was, he didn’t dare. The need to wrap his arms around her and learn what that lip ring felt like in his mouth hammered at his resolve.

  Ever since his Mate’s Mark had awakened, he hadn’t been attracted to any female he’d encountered. And now, because of this beauty in front of him, he couldn’t shut off his body. It was warm and ready for her. He sensed her arousal, too, but fear tainted the heady scent.

  He wanted to ask her so many things. Instead, he walked beside her, trying not to stare. But she wore his jacket so well, and the leather pants hugged her ass perfectly…

  His body perked to life, and he shoved his hand in his pocket to cover that obvious fact.

  “Can I have another bar?”

  He dug through the bag and handed her the last of three bars. It must have been days since she’d eaten. What could have brought her to the point of homelessness and starvation?

  “You’re at a hotel?” She glanced at him.

  “Passing through town.”

  “And helping homeless chicks?”

  He laughed. “Kind of fell into that one.”

  “I’m not going to…um…well, don’t expect—”

  “Don’t worry, Yvonne. I’m not a psycho who’s going to try to jump your bones.” He nudged her shoulder. All the tension he’d been feeling about his situation eased away. He’d even cracked a smile, and it wasn’t one to lure anyone in or dazzle someone into a trance. It was just a plain, relaxed smile.

  Finding his Mate didn’t seem important at the moment, but taking care of Yvonne sure did. Such a tough woman, obviously powerful to have dusted that human as she had, but she seemed vulnerable, too.

  Broken.

  He pointed to his right. “Room 115.”

  Hugging the jacket closer to her, she slowed. Indecision flitted across her face, but he couldn’t blame her. She must really be in need to accept help
from a stranger, or maybe she, too, felt the connection he did.

  Not possible. No connection. He stepped in front of her and opened the door, then eased aside to let her pass.

  “You go first.”

  Keeping her in the edge of his vision, he made his way in and flipped on the lights. “It’s not much, but it’s warm, and the beds are pretty soft.”

  She looked around the small room as she slowly made her way in. “Nice.”

  “Two beds. Like I said.” He set the bag of food on the tiny fridge that sat atop the TV stand. “Feel free to clean up if you want. I’ll just put the food away.”

  She didn’t move.

  He reached into the bag and grabbed the bathroom supplies he’d snagged. “Here. I got these just in case you might need them.” He held out his hand. On it sat a travel toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb, and some floss. “There’s soap in there already, and you can use whatever else of mine you need.”

  Her green eyes went wide.

  “It’s okay.” He extended his offering further.

  “Why…?”

  He was asking himself the same question, but so far he hadn’t answered himself, so he said, “I haven’t quite figured that out yet, but I just know I’m supposed to take care of you.”

  …

  Sizzling water slid down her body, taking the stink of two days with it as jets massaged her neck free of the knotted muscles. The park bench wasn’t even in the same stratosphere as comfortable, and coupled with the cold nights, more than her neck needed the massaging pulses.

  A modest hotel room, considering the wad of cash she’d seen in Justin’s wallet, yet it fit him. Rough with a touch of class. She’d almost melted into a puddle of goo when he’d handed her the bathroom supplies. But what crushed through her defenses was when he said he’d take care of her.

  His aura pulsed with the truth of that. He did want to take care of her. Should she tell him everything? He’d seen her dust that guy, but should she tell him about waking up on a bench and killing that nice man who’d helped her?

  No. She couldn’t tell him that, but maybe the other stuff about not knowing who she was. He might be able to help.

  She hopped out of the shower and dried off. Thankfully the jacket would cover the mark since she didn’t have any makeup. Already tempted beyond reason to touch him, she needed the thick layer for a barrier, anyway.

  Holding her breath, she listened at the door but heard nothing from the other side. Easing it open, she found him sitting on the edge of the far bed, leaning forward, hands clasped before him. The room was dark except for the light from the muted TV.

  He moved at the creak of the door but didn’t say anything.

  She crawled onto the empty bed and sat near the pillows, legs crossed. Picking at her now-clean fingernails, she weighed her options. Should she tell? Shouldn’t she?

  “Still cold?” he asked.

  “I’m okay.”

  “The jacket looks nice on you.” He stood and hiked his shirt over his head. “Sleep well, Yvonne.”

  He plopped onto his bed, still in his jeans, back to her, and jammed a pillow over his head.

  Her fingers ached to touch all that glorious skin. Never before had she wanted to rip off her gloves more and dive right into that sea of smooth, pale flesh.

  To be so close to someone and not able to touch him was torture. Pure torture.

  She opened her mouth to ask his help with finding out who—and what—she was, but she clamped it shut. No. Just a good night’s sleep, then she should leave.

  If she stayed, she’d probably kill him.

  Chapter Nine

  A sound yanked Justin from a deep sleep. He flopped onto his back and looked to the other bed. Still wearing his jacket, Yvonne curled into herself. Soft whimpers emanated from her, and she twitched.

  His heart ached. This woman wasn’t marked with the Ahavah, so how could he feel so strongly for her? Other than her having a wicked power and being the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, he knew absolutely nothing about her. Instinct demanded he watch over her, but something this intense should happen only with his Mate.

  He scrubbed his face with his hands. He did not need this right now. Not with Theo and Sadie on the verge of finding the location of the Thata. Not when he had to deal with finding his so-called Mate and figuring a way out of it.

  Damn it! Already the emotional chaos had begun. The very thing Justin hated about taking a Mate. He’d never wanted one, and here he was pining after a woman who wasn’t even marked for him.

  Maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t find his Mate. The very fact that he felt so strongly about Yvonne had to mean something. Yes. Maybe if he sated his need with her, that’d prove to everyone, including The Great One, that there wasn’t just one woman for him.

  No, that didn’t feel right, either. Shit!

  Since Justin was a Companion to the Gatekeeper, he wouldn’t die without his Mate as Theo would have, but still. He hadn’t even met his Ahavah, and yet he felt so strongly about Yvonne. How would meeting his Mate make him feel?

  He turned onto his side and propped his head on his palm to watch the tiny female. Her long black hair covered most of her face, and her clasped, gloved hands were tucked neatly under her cheek.

  He could see one eye through her blanket of hair, and it was squeezed tight. What had she been through? She couldn’t be more than twenty, maybe twenty-one.

  And all that leather. Protecting her. Covering her.

  Was she badly scarred?

  Heat stormed through him, igniting a desire to lay with her, to touch her body and make her feel good.

  Whoa! That was new. He’d only been with women to find his release. Didn’t matter much about theirs.

  An ache clenched his stomach. He’d been so selfish.

  He hopped up from the bed and ambled to the shower. He needed a cold one. Ice cold. Rubbing his bare chest right over his heart, he still sensed his Mate nearby, but he shoved it down. Evidently he was meant to help Yvonne first. For whatever reason, The Great One had their paths cross for a purpose.

  He hurried through a cold shower, willing his body into submission. In a few hours it’d be light, but he had no idea what he would do with Yvonne. Take her to a homeless shelter?

  No. What if she accidentally touched someone? Or maybe she could control it. That guy he’d seen her dust was probably hurting her. She might have been defending herself.

  Yet she seemed so meek. Confused. And that just brought out his protective nature even more. But it wasn’t brotherly as it was with Sadie’s best friend, Dasha, either. This was way more intense.

  He shook out his damp hair and pulled his shirt and jeans on. Breakfast. He’d start with breakfast and maybe probe with a few questions to test the waters.

  Then, he should continue seeking out his Mate…

  Justin. Theo’s commanding voice entered his thoughts.

  Please, yell louder, it’s not like you’re in my head or anything.

  Halena and Sadie found the site. We leave tonight.

  Where is it?

  Theo laughed. Hades, of course.

  Great, a sea of demons and more burning granite. I’ll be ready.

  See you in six hours. I’ll be sure to knock even if there isn’t a sock on the doorknob…

  After nine centuries, finally he learns.

  Justin stepped out of the bathroom and into the dim hotel room. Yvonne had shifted to her back. The front of his jacket opened, revealing her ample chest. Tight black leather hid most of her flesh from his view, but it outlined every curve and dip. The zipper stopped at the juncture between her breasts, and ivory flesh spilled over. She was breathing heavily, panting.

  So much for the cold shower he’d just taken.

  “No. I won’t,” she said. “Can’t.” She thrashed as if clawing at someone. “Don’t hurt her. I’ll do it.”

  “Yvonne?”

  “Take me instead!” She kicked at the covers, and they flew off
to the floor.

  He sat on the side of her bed and shook her by the shoulder. “Yvonne.”

  She fisted her hand and took a swing. He cuffed her wrist before contact was made, and her eyes popped open. With her free hand, she cupped his cheek, eyes furious with anger. “Don’t.”

  After a few deep breaths, she shook her head as if waking from a stupor. She looked at her hand touching his face and recoiled, but he held fast to her wrist.

  “Let go,” she said, working to scoot away from him. “Please.”

  He didn’t. Couldn’t. Sweat beaded along her temple, and her nostrils flared with each deep breath. The heady scent of desire blanketed the sharp scent of fear he detected.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” Her voice cracked.

  “What were you dreaming?” he asked, loosening his hold but not letting go.

  “Don’t remember.” Her jaw clenched, and she averted her eyes.

  She was lying.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “Two in the morning. You should sleep some more.”

  “Yeah. That’ll happen.” She looked at his hand around hers. “Please let me go. I’m scared I’ll hurt you.”

  Even though she said the words, he heard no conviction behind them, and she made no further movement to get out from beneath his touch.

  So lonely.

  “I saw what happened to that man in the alley.” He edged closer to her. “So, you can’t control it? Is that why you wear leather?”

  Tears welled along the bottoms of her eyes, and she slowly nodded. The leather provided protection to those around her. That explained a lot.

  “Any slight touch and the person turns to ash?” Still he moved closer, the bed sagging beneath his weight. The overwhelming urge to draw her into a hug flooded through him.

  “Please don’t. Let me go.” Her voice was stronger, and she moved. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He released her wrist. “Tell me how you got this ability.”

  “I don’t know.” A tear trekked a path down her cheek, but she batted it away and cleared her throat.

  He grazed his hand along her leg to her knee, and her eyes slid shut as if reveling in the touch. How long had she been isolated or touched for reasons other than violence?