When he glanced back at her, his brows were pulled tight into a concerned scowl. “Why are you sad? Would you prefer we not discuss this? We could talk about something else.”
“No! I want to, and I’m not sad. I just feel bad. You’ve sacrificed so much for me, and… How did you become my guardian? Was it something you volunteered for?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t volunteer, I was commissioned. During the Great Fall, I was fatally wounded. I took a sword in my side—”
She immediately knew the scar he must be referring to. It was the only one on his heavily muscled body that looked large and severe enough to have ever been fatal.
“Somehow my efforts during that battle caught the notice of an elder in the High Court, and after I’d healed, from time to time, I did sanctioned jobs for them.”
“So, you were like their golden boy?”
He laughed. “Golden boy? No. More like their mercenary.” He hesitated a moment, and she got the feeling he was deciding exactly what, and how much, he should tell her about his past. “I was not always your guardian. When you were born, you had a real guardian assigned to your care.”
Now that was not what she’d expected him to say. She’d assumed that Liam had always been with her and the thought that he hadn’t, left her a bit uneasy. “What happened?”
“He died.”
She gasped in surprise, her hand flying up to her mouth. “Because of me?”
“Because of the demon that killed him. None of this is your fault, Olivia.”
“How did he die?” It felt horrible to know that someone who cared for her had died for her and she never even knew his name.
“I don’t know. I didn’t know him. You were almost three when it happened—when Saphat, an elder of the High Court, came to me and asked me to take over your guardianship. Because you were sighted, the Dark Court hunted you, even at a young age, and it alarmed the High Court how quickly they passed their defenses. It was an unprecedented union, a Ronnin warrior serving as a mortal’s guardian.”
“Why was this such a big deal?”
“Because we were never created for human interaction. I’m not immune to your life force like a true guardian would be.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s what prevents guardians from becoming attracted to their mortals and forming—” He cleared his throat, “attachments to them.”
She’d wondered if her “bond” with Liam was a common problem. It didn’t sound like it was, and now she knew why. “Do you ever…regret agreeing to be my guardian?”
Liam did that hand through the hair thing he always did whenever he was either frustrated or stalling. “Sometimes, I think that it would have probably been better for you if I had refused. But selfishly, no. If I had it to do all over again, I would still become your guardian. Honestly, I can’t imagine an existence where I wasn’t connected to you. You’re with me constantly. I always feel you—whether you’re happy, sad, angry, or afraid. I have a constant awareness of you, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything.”
“If you used to come and play with me when I was a child, then why did you stop and start blocking my sight?”
He hesitated before answering as if maybe searching for the right words. “I had to. There really wasn’t much of a choice. You wouldn’t play with other children because you wanted me, and it didn’t take very long before you figured out that you couldn’t see me when they were around so you started avoiding kids your own age. It wasn’t healthy for you, and your parents were starting to get worried, especially when you were getting beyond the age of imaginary friends and you kept insisting that you had your very own Prince Charming who would someday take you away to live in a castle happily ever after.”
He reached over and took her hand, threading his fingers between hers, and gave an affectionate squeeze. “And I was probably a tad over-indulgent. You were so adorable back then. You really had me wrapped around your little finger.”
Olivia laughed, returning the squeeze with more vigor. “Hey, what do you mean ‘back then’? I’m not adorable now?”
His gaze lit on her, and she knew that darkening in those violet eyes, if left unchecked, would usher in the sapphire storm that heated her blood. His voice dropped to a husky rasp that made her pulse quicken. “Now, you are the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Mercy… If he kept looking at her like this, she’d lay siege to his self-control, abandon all pride and self-respect, and throw herself at him. Trying to focus on their conversation and forget the feeling of his hands on her bare flesh, or the taste of his lips, she wracked her brain for a memory of him when she was a child. Surely she could come up with something—anything—nothing… Dammit!
“Why can’t I remember you? I swear I remember everything from my childhood, except you.”
The brewing storm in his eyes receded to be replaced with a look of guilt, and possibly regret, which made no sense to her whatsoever. “What aren’t you telling me, Liam?”
Exhaling, he replied, “The reason you can’t remember me, Olivia, is because I took your memories.”
What! “What?” Can he do that? “Can you do that?”
He nodded. His amber eyes locked on her, and her breath caught in her throat. “Yes.”
She could barely hear his whispered response over the rapid pounding of her heart. Her chest constricted, refusing to expand and draw in a desperately needed breath. The idea that she had a childhood worth of memories, memories of him, that were just…gone, left her feeling heartbroken and…violated. How could he do this to her? They were her memories, dammit.
“Stop the car.” She struggled to keep her voice calm and controlled, fighting back the wave of emotions she didn’t want him privy to, and suddenly feeling completely vulnerable. Man, she wished like hell she had an off switch that could block him for once.
He sighed. “Olivia—”
She jerked her hand from his grasp. “No! Now, stop the car!” There wasn’t enough air in here. Not enough room. She needed to get out, to move, to have just a few damn minutes to herself to process the fact that the one person she trusted most in this entire world had stolen a childhood’s worth of memories from her.
“You’re upset—”
No shit! Softly, in a controlled, calculated response, she replied, “If you do not stop this car right now and let me get some air, I’m going to jump out.” A bit overdramatic, yes, but she wasn’t exactly feeling rational at the moment.
With a hissed curse, Liam jerked the wheel bringing the car to a gravel-sliding halt along the shoulder of the road. She didn’t even wait for him to shift the car into park before jumping out and marching into the ditch. She needed air, she needed room, and she needed a moment to herself to process the fact that her “angel” had mind-fucked her twenty years ago.
And what’s worse, who was to say he wouldn’t do it again? It wasn’t like he couldn’t do it. Hell…he’d already done it once, why not twice? All it would take was for him to decide she was better off not remembering him and bam…sayonara, memories. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop him, either. She hadn’t been able to the first time, and she certainly wouldn’t be able to now.
Compounding her anger and betrayal, panic gripped her at the thought of forgetting him. Air couldn’t come into her lungs fast enough, and her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. She waded through the knee-high grass, into the serenade of crickets and bullfrogs, having no idea where she was going other than away from him. How could he do this to her?
“Olivia!”
She didn’t stop when he called after her. He cursed—a livid snarl that gave her pause, but she refused to look back, stomping into the night that, with any luck, would soon swallow her up. Now beyond the beam of the Camaro’s halogens, she couldn’t see where she was walking and didn’t really care—not until her toe snagged a fallen branch and she pitched forward, face-planting into a wall of hard
-muscled male that smelled suspiciously of rich, heady spice.
Strong hands caught her arms and none too gently jerked her upright. Her feet temporarily left the ground and then reconnected solidly as Liam set her right again. Dammit! Damn him! Why couldn’t he just let her fall? Because he loves you…
“Olivia, I don’t want there to be secrets between us. But you’re going to make me rethink this whole honesty thing if you act like this every time I tell you something you don’t want to hear.”
She could faintly make out the amethyst hue of his irises, and knew his patience was wearing thin. “I want them back, Liam. Can you do that? Can you give me my memories back?”
“I won’t apologize for what I did. And if you knew what you’d be remembering, I’m not so sure you’d want them back.”
“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I want them back?”
“Because you almost died, Olivia! Do you really want to remember that? I can’t be selective in which memories you get back. It’s all or none, and I highly recommend none. Do you want to remember that car hitting you, or the weeks you spent in recovery? Do you want to remember your guardian giving his life for yours? Dammit! Don’t ask me questions anymore if you’re just going to get mad at the answers.”
“How can I trust you?” she yelled. “How do I know you won’t do this to me again, and one morning I’ll wake up and have no idea you even exist?”
“How do I know you won’t ask me to?” he countered. “Just like you did before!”
She froze, momentarily speechless. Standing there in the darkness, looking up at him, she could see the outline of his tightly clenched jaw, lit by the radiant hue of his eyes. He was pissed, and it took her a few painfully slow seconds to comprehend what exactly he was saying to her.
As if she were daft, he said, “Come on, Olivia, how many times do we have to go through this? I can’t violate your free will, and don’t you think a mind scrub falls a bit within that realm? Do you honestly think I wanted to erase myself from your life? I did it because it was the only way I could ease your pain—the constant nightmares—and because you asked me to!”
“How old was I?” She could barely get the words past her grief-trembling lips. Not in a million years would it have occurred to her that she’d done this to herself. Guilt and embarrassment over the way she’d reacted made her want to crawl under the nearest rock. Lord, he hadn’t deserved that—not then, not now.
“Six. One night, after a particularly vivid nightmare, I was holding you in the rocking chair that sat in the corner of your bedroom. You were crying and you asked me to make it stop. You wished for it to all go away. So I did. I made it go away. You think that I don’t live with the fear that you’ll eventually hit your breaking point again and ask me to make it all go away?” His grip on her arms tightened and she stifled a wince.
“Liam… I’m sorry… I didn’t realize—”
“Yeah, well, now you know. So get back in the car,” he all but growled, letting go of her and pointing over her shoulder to the idling Camaro. She’d upset him by her outburst and, no doubt, offended the hell out of him by insulting his integrity—something he prized above all things and served as his moral compass.
She wanted to throw herself into his arms and apologize again for the way she’d reacted. She wanted to tell him not to worry and promise him she’d never ask him to do that again. No matter how painful the memories were, it was still better than no memories at all. But at the moment, he didn’t particularly look like he wanted to be touched—not that she blamed him. So instead of risking making a fledging ass of herself—again—she submissively nodded, turned around, and trudged back to the car.
Chapter Thirty
Ashley’s ass was numb from sitting in one position for so long. They had to be getting close, although they’d been following signs for the House of Night for the last five miles. A brothel didn’t exactly strike her as a place Liam would bring Olivia, so she could only conclude they were meeting up with someone else, and that thought sent a lead bomb of dread settling into the pit of her stomach. She anxiously glanced over at Mitch when they turned right, following the red convertible down a long, winding driveway and past a seductively artful sign that read “House of Night.”
Mitch sat beside her, ridged as a board. His jaw clenched, knee bouncing, anxious with restless energy. She knew what he was thinking—that Liam had brought his fiancée to a skeezy motel, and the fact that he believed this only proved the depths of cluelessness Mitch had reached. He wasn’t thinking straight—his emotions having long overridden his common sense.
“Relax, Mitch, they aren’t here.”
His brows were drawn tight in a scowl when he looked over at her. “How do you know? They said they were bringing me to her.”
“Because this is a whorehouse, Mitch. Liam wouldn’t bring Olivia here. They must be meeting up with someone else.” As they rounded the last curve of the long driveway, Ashley noticed a guy pacing back and forth along the short stretch of sidewalk that ran between the parking lot and the modern day brothel. The man was easily six-two, maybe three, two-hundred-twenty pounds tops. His clothes looked disheveled and worn, his shirt hanging off his muscular frame, exposing smooth bronze skin over a chiseled chest. His low-riding jeans put the “low” in “riding.”
As they pulled into the parking lot, he stopped his caged tiger routine and shot a dark scowl at Cale and Rhen. If not for the menacing glare in his overly acute pale green eyes, the guy would have been handsome. Give him a haircut, shower, and a fresh change of clothes, and he would have been gorgeous. Who was this guy, and what was he doing with these demons?
“Who is that?” Mitch demanded as if she should know. “Is that him? Is that Liam?”
Ashley shook her head. “Not even close.” When she parked the Mustang and cut the engine, those predatory eyes grazed over her before locking on Cale and Rhen. Goose bumps prickled up her arms as she murmured, “I have no idea who that is, Mitch, and I don’t think we want to.” She cracked her window down far enough to hear the exchange between him and the demons as they casually strolled over to the stranger.
The glower on his face grew darker with each approaching step. “He seems sweet…” she commented dryly, glancing at Mitch, who was also watching them intently.
“Haden—” Cale greeted, his stance rigid as he and Rhen stopped in front of the guy, partially blocking their view of the third wheel in this little road trip from Hell.
“So…where is he?” Haden asked, cocking his head to the side to look past Cale, searching the back seat of the cherry red convertible
Rhen raised his arm, thumbing in their direction, and the guy turned his Velociraptor gaze on them.
“Oh shit…” she muttered under her breath when Haden began to stride toward them. She reached over and clutched Mitch’s hand in mounting panic.
Haden walked up to the Mustang’s passenger side and rapped his knuckles against the window. Mitch lowered the glass a few inches. It was just far enough so Haden wouldn’t be able to fit his arm inside were he to decide to strangle him.
“You Mitch?”
“Yeah. Who are you?”
“Doesn’t matter. You love Olivia?”
“I do.”
Either A: Mitch was a total badass himself. B: He was a complete idiot and had no idea that they were in serious danger here, or C: He was one hell of a poser, because his voice didn’t even harbor a note of fear as he answered the stranger’s questions.
Haden gave a curt nod, as if Mitch’s answers satisfied him, and said, “Well, Mitch, my name is Haden, and I’m your new best friend—”
“And why’s that?” Mitch asked skeptically.
“Because I’m going to help you get Olivia back. And believe me, you’ve got your work cut out for you ‘cause Liam’s got his nose so far up your female’s skirt, I doubt she even remembers your name. Hope you don’t mind a little more road tripping because you, my man, are too late. They left Vegas about fo
ur hours ago.”
Mitch snarled a foul curse, and Haden’s top lip curled in what couldn’t quite be called a smile. “Where did he take her?”
Haden cocked his brow and shrugged, giving them a sardonic grin. “Don’t know, but I’ll find her. I always do, and the hunt is half the fun.”
Ashley watched wide-eyed as Haden turned and ambled away. He walked back to Cale and Rhen, and without breaking stride, he smashed his fist into the side of Cale’s face.
The demon dropped, and then instantly leapt to his feet, dark eyes turning coal black with rage. “What the fuck was that for?” he yelled, looking like he wanted to jump Haden and return the bone-crunching blow. She wondered why he hesitated. Surely they weren’t afraid of this Haden—were they?
“That,” Haden growled, “was for being stupid enough to bring along the only other female on the face of the planet who has a damn warrior for a guardian!”
“He knows who I am,” she gasped. “This is bad, Mitch. This is really, really bad.”
“How bad can he be, Ash? He’s going to help me get Olivia back.”
“Yeah, but at what price?” she whispered.
He looked over at her and with a dead calm voice replied, “Whatever it takes.”
***
“Ugh! I’ve got to get some rest!”
Mitch glanced over at Ashley. Her hand was wrapped around the back of her neck, and a grimace graced her lovely face as she massaged her stiff, sore muscles. He wasn’t fairing much better. Mustangs were not built for luxury and cross country trips. “You want me to drive for a bit?” They’d been traveling for over eight hours, and at this rate, it didn’t appear the red convertible had any intention of stopping soon. As far as he was concerned, that was just fine with him. The quicker he got to Olivia, the better. He’d meant what he said—“Whatever it takes.”
Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series) Page 27
