“I don’t think a drink is going to patch things up between us.”
“People make mistakes—”
“But that’s just it. You’re not people.”
And that’s why they didn’t out themselves. It wouldn’t look good, having the humans aware of them. They’d become more aware of spiritual warfare, and that was a lose-lose on both ends.
“Don’t you think, for one minute, that I’ve forgotten what you really are!” Ashley pulled some cash out of her pocket and slammed it down on the counter. Tucking the Beck’s in the crook of her arm, she grabbed the second glass and walked back to them, leaving Cale standing at the bar staring after her. He turned to the bartender and grabbed his beer, grumbling, “Ouch… Careful for that one, she bites.”
Haden had no doubt the little spit-fire did exactly that.
“Wow, two-fista sista,” Mitch teased as she walked over to him with a drink in each hand and waited for him to take the beer wedged between her elbow and her boob.
“Shut up and break,” she snapped, tipping back a glass.
Mitch laughed. “Jeez, Ash, I hope you’re not an angry drunk.”
“We’ll see soon enough,” she replied, draining her third glass and slamming it down on the table. She glanced around the room, no doubt looking for her guardian. The brief look of disappointment that crossed her face verified his suspicion. A rebellious glint graced those hazel eyes and she grabbed her fourth glass and started downing that one, too. Give it twenty minutes or so for those drinks to catch up with her and she was gonna be shit-faced. Damn, this female was a disaster waiting to happen. He almost felt sorry for the warrior.
Three games of pool and several drinks later, Ashley’s aim was definitely off and not even playing slop could help that girl’s game. She was starting to relax a bit, and was looking less and less like she’d just sucked a lemon. It was interesting that, for as much as Mitch professed undying love for Olivia, his gaze so frequently roved over Ashley’s ass. That must chap Balen’s hide like no tomorrow.
An hour and a half had passed, and no warrior. The female glanced over at the door every few minutes as if she expected, or maybe hoped, her angel would come back for her. He drained his beer and left his empty on the table as he walked up to the bar for another. After the day he’d had, he could use another five or six. Haden was on his way back to the table when Ashley came around the corner, heading toward the bathroom. She tripped over her own feet and stumbled forward.
Reflexively, he reached out and grabbed her arm. She stiffened beneath his touch. No doubt, her survival instincts were trying to fight their way through the alcohol. When she relaxed in his arms, he knew they had failed her. The female had no idea how much danger she was in here, and because she wasn’t sober enough to be afraid, neither did her guardian.
Ten minutes ago, a pair of demons had come in through the back entrance. It hadn’t taken them long to notice the blonde beauty. They were Incubus, male demons with insatiable sexual appetites. It wasn’t uncommon for them to attack and violate a female who’d caught their eye.
They’d both donned their glamour, which meant they were hunting. Women would see two “men,” strong and virile, classically handsome. Haden saw two lanky demons, emaciated and gaunt in the face, which meant they hadn’t fed in a while. They gained their strength through sex, draining their victims of their life force, a little at a time. Once they’d marked them, the Incubus would return to the women in their dreams and, over the course of weeks or months, steal their vitality.
Their oversized eyes had searched the bar, sweeping back and forth, looking for their prey. They’d locked onto Ashley in seconds, their irises glowing red, tracking her movements as she shot a game of pool and downed another one of those drinks with the green leaves. He had no doubt the only reason they’d kept their distance this long was because she was with other demons.
“Careful there…” he told Ashley, steadying her. “Maybe you should call it a night before you get hurt, yeah?” Even now, the two watched him with her, probably trying to decide if he had any claim on the female, and if he did, would they be able to take him. Doubtful they could, but even so, he had zero interest in playing guardian to this woman, especially when she had a perfectly good one brooding outside.
“Ha, you sound like Balen,” she slurred.
“Maybe he’s right,” Haden said, releasing her arm to let her battle gravity on her own.
“Maybe you should mind your own business,” she snapped. “I’m fine, and I’m perfectly capable of getting myself to the bathroom, thank you very much.” She turned away and proceeded down the hall, her hand trailing along the wall for balance.
Shaking his head, he strolled back to the tables, feeling the watchful eyes of the Incubus on his back. He set his beer down and looked back, shooting the two a warning glare to piss off. Only one was at the table. Bloody hell…
Exhaling a ripe curse, he marched down the hall, his determined steps eating up the hardwood floor. He reached the woman’s bathroom and turned the knob—it wouldn’t move. Haden wrenched it again—nothing. Dammit! The demon had used his power to seal it shut. The only way this door was coming open was off its hinges. Just then, a muffled scream echoed from the bathroom, followed by a bang and a thud.
Fuck it! Haden slammed his shoulder into the door, tearing it loose from the hinges, and stormed inside. The Incubus had the female pinned against the bathroom stall, a gnarled hand clamped tightly over her mouth, the other tearing at her clothes. His lips were pulled back, revealing a fierce set of fangs he was about to sink into the female’s neck. Once he marked her, tasted her blood, she’d never be able to hide from him.
Haden didn’t stop to analyze why he gave a shit, other than since Gahn’s betrayal, he had a general loathing for all demons. The beast descended on her neck, and Haden lunged, catching it by the throat just before its fangs grazed her porcelain skin. The beast let out an enraged snarl as he ripped it off her. Truly, the thing must have been starving. The demon was no stronger than a mortal man. Haden snapped its neck with ease and shoved it into a bathroom stall. The shadows would come soon enough and claim the beast to the Abyss.
When he turned back to Ashley, she was crumpled on the floor, sobbing. Scratches marred her cheek, there was a small nick on her neck, and puncture wounds marked her arm from where the Incubus’ nails had pierced her skin. She let out a startled cry when he scooped her up from the floor.
“Shh… I’m not going to harm you, Ashley.” It surprised him to realize he actually meant it. The female slipped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. He turned around to carry her out when her guardian flooded the doorway.
Amethyst eyes blazed with rage as he took in the dead Incubus, and burned hotter when he saw the female clinging to Haden like a lifeline—her face buried in the side of his neck, her sob-sawing breaths trekking down his throat.
“Let her go!” Balen snarled.
Haden scowled. Ungrateful bastard… Storming over to the warrior, he shoved Ashley into his arms. “Take her…” She was still sobbing when he reached up and unwound the female from his neck. “Maybe you should keep this one on a tighter leash,” he growled. “She’s reckless and just about became an Incubus’ mate.”
Balen snarled something in a language Haden didn’t understand, but his tone promised it had been foul. He turned without so much as a “thank you for saving my ward’s life,” and carried her out the back exit. As Haden headed back to his beer, he noticed the other Incubus was gone.
“Hey, you seen Ashley?” Mitch asked when Haden plopped down on the chair in a negligent sprawl and tipped back his beer.
“Yep. Balen took her back to her room. Apparently, the girl can’t handle her liquor.”
***
Balen carried Ashley back to the motel. The crisp night air did nothing to simmer his rage, nor did her slurred apology as she curled into his chest and promptly passed out. Haden was right. She was reckless—careless an
d reckless. The image of Ashley in another male’s arms, clinging to him as she sobbed, kept the fire of his anger burning bright. That bastard was dangerous, evil as the day was long, so why in the hell had he kept that Incubus from marking her?
Ashley was thoroughly trashed, the alcohol fogging her senses, her emotional responses delayed, dulling his connection to her. When she was intoxicated to this degree, Balen could only feel an echo of her, and it pissed him off to no end that he hadn’t been there for her tonight. That she’d been saved by a… What in the hell was that arrogant bastard, anyway? He wasn’t fallen, the eyes didn’t fit—but he was powerful, and darkness surrounded him the same as any demon.
Perhaps it was the stress of the last few days, but Ashley’s fit of temper had pushed her beyond rational and into a self-destructive mode. It’d been a long time since he’d seen that side of her. When she was younger, she’d been wild. Balen had blamed all the partying—the drinking, on her lack of parental guidance.
She’d been acting out then, just as she was now, and he refused to shoulder the blame for her bullshit bad choices. How could she possibly believe he didn’t love her? They’d been through this before. Couldn’t she see this was killing him? Honestly, if she kept acting like this, putting herself in danger every time she became angry with him, he’d have no choice but to change the dynamics of their relationship.
As he reached her motel room, he commanded her door to unlock. The metal snicked as the door swung open in greeting. Balen carried Ashley inside and laid her on the bed. When her head connected with the pillow, she groaned, wincing as she reached up, touching the back of her curls.
“My head is killing me,” she groaned. When she pulled her hand away, her fingertips were stained with blood. “Spinning…”
Balen looked down and saw his chest and arm were streaked with blood. He hadn’t realized her head was bleeding. He’d assumed the briny, copper tang he’d scented was coming from the scratches on her face, neck, and arm.
Seeing her injuries renewed his rage. He wanted to go back to that bar and claim the Incubus’ life himself and felt sorely robbed that Haden had gotten the pleasure. Heaving a sigh, Balen knelt beside her and pulled her probing fingers out of her stained hair.
“Let me see it.”
Her eyes briefly fluttered open, locking on his long enough for a flash of awareness to flitter through them before becoming glazed again. Her lids fell shut and she murmured something again about the room spinning. He took her leg and pulled it closer, draping it over the side of the bed so her foot could rest on the floor. “Better?” he asked, turning her head to find the cut.
“Yeah, thanks,” she murmured.
As he parted her blood-soaked curls, she reached up, and on her second attempt, caught hold of his wrist, smearing more blood across his arm. “Balen?”
“What?”
She winced.
He wasn’t sure if it was from the sharpness in his voice, or the pain of having him messing with the lacerated contusion on the back of her head.
“I’m sorry…”
“So am I.”
The cut on her head was deep enough that it needed repairing. She wasn’t in any condition to go anywhere, and the best thing for her right now was to sleep. At this point, Balen saw no other alternative than to heal her. It’d temporarily deplete his energy, weakening him, but he’d rather do that than haul her to the hospital. Carefully, he pushed the edges of the laceration together and allowed his energy to flow from his hands into her wound.
The skin quickly knitted back together and once it was sealed, he ran his fingers over the deep scratches on her cheek and then her arm. Unblemished skin appeared in the wake of his touch. Before standing, he bent forward and brushed a kiss against her forehead and murmured, “Good night, Ashley.”
Silently, he closed the door behind him and pulled a chair over to her front door, assuming the same position he had every night since she’d taken off with Mitch. The hallway where he sat was nothing more than a canopy covered stretch of indoor/outdoor carpet, bordering a four foot railing leading to the parking lot three stories below.
Balen closed his eyes, resting his head in his hands that were laced together for support. Fatigue racked his body, his muscles ached. He’d never given up his energy before and was surprised by the toll it’d taken on him.
A short time later, riotous laughter echoed down the hall, and the heady scent of sulfur preceded the fallen angels. Balen didn’t acknowledge them as they stumbled past. He could tell by their uneven gait and boisterous banter that Ashley wasn’t the only one who’d had too much to drink tonight. Obviously, Mitch was buying into their good-guy act. Oh well, he’d be in for a rude awakening soon enough.
As doors slammed, the hallway grew silent again. When the energy in the air shifted, Balen tensed, cracking open an eye. Haden stood across from him, leaning against the railing. His arms were crossed over his chest, an amused smirk tugging at his lips while a brow cocked arrogantly over those confounding pale green eyes. What in the hell was he?
“What’d you do, kill her?” Haden asked, taking a sweeping glance over Balen’s blood-stained clothes.
“Funny,” Balen replied, shooting him a thin-ice glare. “What are you, anyway?”
Haden readjusted his stance, balancing his weight, bracing his feet. He was dangerous, that’s what he was. “What do you think I am?”
“Lookin’ for a fight.”
“Well, maybe, that. The night is still young. I gotta admit, you sure got your hands full with that one in there. Can’t say I envy you—‘course that’s not entirely true. If that little spice drop was mine, I’d be hittin’ that shit so hard—”
A growl tore from Balen’s throat as he flew off the chair, driving into Haden with his shoulder. The impact toppled them both over the railing. Haden spun them mid-air, and Balen took the impact as they landed, momentarily knocking the air from his lungs. Asphalt crumbled beneath him, grinding into his back, and he cursed his faltering strength.
Summoning his last reserve of power, he rolled to full-guard, pinning Haden beneath him, and drove his fist into his jaw. Haden took the blow and bucked up, knocking Balen off him. He leapt to his feet. Haden was fast, but even wounded, Balen was still faster. Coming up behind Haden, he wrapped his forearm around his throat, locking it in place, and shoved his palm against the back of Haden’s head, cutting off his air and leveraging to snap his neck.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” Balen growled in his ear.
“I’ll give you two,” Haden wheezed. “One, I’m not what you think I am. And two, you owe me a boon for saving Ashley’s life!”
Haden didn’t wait to be released before lifting his arm and driving his elbow deep into Balen’s ribs. Air left his lungs in an exhaled grunt of pain as bones gave way to Haden’s blow. Each breath sent searing pain through his chest, weakening his grip as Haden wrenched himself free from Balen’s grasp.
He wasn’t coming through this unscathed. The green-eyed bastard stumbled back several steps, leaning forward to draw gulps of air himself—winded. Balen pressed his hand against his side, splinting his rib as he stepped forward, tensing to lunge for Haden again. But he stepped back in counterpoint to Balen’s advance.
“Damn, you bastards just don’t quit, do ya? You know, next time a simple ‘thank you’ would do quite nicely,” Haden snapped, reaching up to wipe the blood off his lip with the back of his hand.
Balen noticed the streak was crimson instead of black, proving without a doubt that the otherworldly creature facing off with him wasn’t demonic, after all. Then what in the hell was he? The power Haden exuded was definitely of the dark arts and he was stronger than any fallen Balen had ever tangled with before.
“I’m warning you right now, you hit me like that again, and I’m gonna quit playin’ nice.”
This was nice? Balen had asphalt ground into his back and at least three busted ribs. That son of a bitch could
give as good as he got! “You going to tell me what you are? And why you saved Ashley from that Incubus?”
Haden spit a mouthful of blood on the ground and gave him a crimson-toothed grin. “Let’s just say I’m earning my wings.”
Before Balen could reply, the cocky bastard turned around and walked away.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The faintest hint of dawn was breaking across the midnight sky when Liam pulled into the parking lot of the Grotto. Hours of silence had given him time to think—too much time. He now knew what he must do to keep Olivia safe. And he’d enjoy deceiving her about as much as he’d enjoy having his heart torn from his chest. The pain certainly would be no less.
He glanced down at her curled up on the passenger seat, sleeping soundly. She was exhausted, and in her slumber, she’d gravitated to him, using his arm as a pillow. She hadn’t complained once about the unrelenting pace they’d traveled. Then again, she hadn’t said a word to him since getting back in the car after their fight, and neither had he. They’d both lost their tempers—both felt bad about it, and he knew the toll this trip was taking on her.
She’d never liked to travel and had never done it due to her tendency to get motion sickness since her accident. Before yesterday, they’d never spoken of the attack that had nearly taken Olivia’s life and he wished to God they hadn’t now. Some memories were better left dead and buried, and this now forced him to consider that perhaps the past weren’t the only memories of Olivia’s that needed to go.
She’d always known about the car accident—her parents had told her that much, and she still had a few faded scars that even time couldn’t erase. But she had no memory of the events surrounding it, or of her painful recovery. Her parents had always thought it a blessing that she didn’t remember and were careful to avoid discussing things that could trigger her memories to return. Of course, they didn’t know that would never happen, because he held the thread that kept that veil in place.
Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series) Page 30
