He hadn’t seen him since he’d scooped Olivia in his arms and ushered her out of the bar, leaving the Neph to fend for himself. It wasn’t like him to leave a friend, or even a foe—as was this case—to those odds. Haden’s behavior to this day still baffled him and left him wondering why he’d helped spare Olivia’s life. And why had he genuinely seemed concerned when she’d been lying on the floor drowning in a pool of her own blood?
Liam had plenty of questions for the half-breed and when he finished with court, finding those answers were going to be priority number one. Answers to questions like, what was he doing in a demon bar with Olivia?—and how had she gotten there in the first place? She should have, would have, been safe back at the resort.
Then again, maybe “safe” was a relative word. Mitch had been there—naked. Just the thought of that manipulative bastard lit the fuse of Liam’s already fried nerves. Speaking of which, the guy had been nowhere to be found when he’d gotten back to the resort with Olivia that day. When he’d checked at the main desk, they told him Mitch had already checked out. Perhaps Olivia had spoken to him, after all, not that it explained the scene he’d walked into last Sunday morning.
And that was the second reason he hadn’t taken Olivia back to Evercrest. If Mitch had left and gone back home, the last thing he wanted to do was leave her unconscious and vulnerable in the same vicinity as that bastard. There was no telling what manipulative shit he would pull.
Sighing, Liam dragged his hand down his face and continued to pace off some restless energy. His heart slammed inside his chest, beating counterpoint to the clock across the room, ticking down his last seconds here on Earth.
***
The next time she woke, it was to hear him whispering her name—the sense of urgency was unmistakable, and her pulse quickened with apprehension. His weight was beside her once again, caving the mattress, and she leaned into his hip. More than anything, she wanted to open her eyes and wrap her arms around him, clinging to him like a lifeline anchoring her to sanity. The man’s voice spoke straight to her heart. She could feel that he loved her—knew it instinctively.
“Olivia, sweetheart, open your eyes for me.”
Didn’t he know she was trying? But the darkness was just too strong.
Again, he sighed. He’d been doing a lot of that lately, and the sound made her heart ache something fierce. His fingers combed through her hair—light, languid strokes that instantly soothed her.
“Sweetheart, I have to go away for a while. But you’re going to be okay, you hear me? And don’t worry, you’re not alone. You have a lot of friends and family who love you and need you to get through this. Do not be afraid. Forget the past, live for your future, and know I’ll always be with you. I love you, Olivia.”
The heartache in his voice brought tears to her eyes. Moisture pooled beneath her lids and rolled down her temples, streaking into her hair. She tried to speak, to beg him to stay, but nothing would come out. His hand settled on her cheek as he whispered to her in that hauntingly beautiful language.
Softly, his lips brushed against hers—lingering… She breathed in deep, drawing his breath into her lungs. The moment she inhaled, radiant heat suddenly infused her body, right to the very depths of her soul, and she could feel it breaking the ties that bound her to this dark prison.
One kiss—that was all it took for her soul to find its way back to him. As if a switch had been flipped, Olivia was finally whole again. “Don’t go!” she cried as her eyes flew open. Her arms came up to circle the neck of her savior, but she caught only air. He was gone.
***
Olivia had no more tears left to cry. Every time she inhaled a hiccupping sob, the monitor attached to her finger would alarm. After the third or fourth time, the nurse finally stopped coming in. She’d done her best to reassure Olivia that she was all right, telling her these feelings were normal. It was perfectly natural to be overwhelmed after coming out of a coma, blah…blah…blah… She wasn’t overwhelmed, she was heartbroken. Lying here in this hospital room, Olivia had never felt so completely and utterly alone.
The backlight from the monitors stung her photo-sensitive eyes. The intermittent chirping alarms hurt her ears. Rolling to her side, she turned away from the door and wiped her tear-swollen eyes with the back of her hand and her runny nose with the sleeve of her nightgown.
Although she’d been sleeping for what felt like an eternity, exhaustion still dogged her. Yet, she was terrified to close her eyes, afraid if she did, she’d find herself shackled to the darkness again, except this time she had no one to save her.
The soft reassurance of his husky voice—gone. The comforting weight of his hip against her side—gone. The soothing, rhythmic stroking of her hair—gone. Another round of gut-wrenching sobs attacked her, and the monitor behind her alarmed. She yanked the covers over her head to drown out the shrill ringing. A moment later, there was a soft knock on the door she didn’t bother to answer. The nurse should know by now she was just fine.
Another tentative knock and the door hinges squeaked behind her. “Olivia?”
She knew that voice. Pulling out from under the covers, she sat up and looked to the door. “Mom? Dad?”
Her mother let out a cry of relief and rushed over to the bed, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace. “Oh, honey, we’ve been so worried about you. Are you all right?”
Olivia nodded. “I think so.” She hugged her mother and watched as her father crossed the room to stand on the other side of her bed. He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. It felt good to see them, comforting to have them here with her.
Drawing back, she asked, “How did you get here? How did you know where I was?”
Her mother’s brows pulled together in a concerned frown. “Liam called us.”
Liam? “Who’s Liam?”
Epilogue
If Liam was expecting a warm welcome home, he was sorely mistaken. As he approached the gate of St. Peter, two Hunturion guards were flanking the golden entrance—to take him into custody? He slowed his approach, suspicion needling up his spine. Tension filled his exhaustion-riddled body that had yet to fully recover from the battle in Sheol or his fight for Olivia’s life.
Stopping outside the gated entrance, he waited for it to open—and waited… His temper sparked, no doubt his eyes flashing their amethyst warning, because the two “regular” gatekeepers, Anders and Kade, both took a collective step back. The Hunturions stepped forward, their expressions locked into a stoic mask of indifference.
“Otvoriti vrata.” Open the gate, the guard commanded. Kade’s uncertain gaze flickered to Liam as if to ask “Are you sure?”
Liam gave a curt nod, and each side of the twin golden panels slowly swung open. The Hunturion guards immediately filled the entrance and rushed forward, each wordlessly grasping an arm, bending it behind his back. With quick efficiency, his wrists were shackled with cuffs made of Immanuel’s Stone.
As they led him through the gate of St. Peter, Anders and Kade averted their gaze, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. They were longtime friends of Liam’s and he knew they struggled with this task of handing him over to the Hunturions, officers of the High Court.
“Budite u miru.” Be at peace, he told them as he walked past. Liam bore no ill will toward them. They were only doing their job. Clearly, the High Court was more than a little angry with him. Perhaps they felt the need to make an example of him. None of this boded well for a favorable outcome.
As he entered the city and approached the building of the High Court, he looked ahead to see Balen charging down the steps—steps he’d fought and nearly died on so many millennia ago. The glower on Balen’s face matched his rankled steps as he marched up to them. In their angelic tongue, he snapped, “What in the hell do you think you’re doing? Get those damn cuffs off him!”
The Hunturions froze, their grip on his arms tightening as they jerked him to a stop. “We are to deliver him to the magi
strate of the High Court for processing.”
“Deliver him doesn’t mean shackle him and treat him like a bloody criminal!”
“Balen, it’s all right—” Liam said.
“The hell it is,” his friend snapped and then turned his glower on the Hunturions. “You’re both just lucky he didn’t resist arrest! Treating him like one of the fallen…what is wrong with you fools? I said get these damn cuffs off him!”
Balen was making a scene Liam could have done without. Others gathered, now watching to see if the officers would cow to Balen’s wrath. If they knew what was good for them, it wouldn’t be a bad idea. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his friend this furious. Whether it be from guilt at his part in getting Liam here, or from the grief of giving Ashley up that made him so volatile, he’d never know. But one thing he did know for certain, if these Hunturions didn’t release him it was going to get ugly.
After a few tense moments, one of the guards snarled, “If he escapes, it’s on your head.” After a jerk and a rustle of his cuffs, they fell away.
Liam absently rubbed his wrists as Balen barked, “He isn’t going to run. He isn’t a criminal!”
That remains to be seen…
***
(Eight Weeks Later)
Olivia glanced down at her watch and frowned. Stepping into the elevator, she tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the doors to close. Her doctor’s appointment ran behind—again—and she was nearly thirty minutes late for coffee with Ashley. They met every Tuesday at Karen’s after her therapy appointments, to chat and catch up.
Since her amnesia, the doctors had recommended she move back home—temporarily, anyway, and her parents had adamantly insisted. They believed if she surrounded herself with family and memories from her childhood, it might help her regain her current memories sooner. So far, it’d been an epic fail. Not only had she completely lost all recollection of recent events, but she also lost pieces of her memory as far back as four years.
Her past was so full of holes, it was like Swiss cheese. The doctors had said her case was “interesting” and the strange patterning of amnesia was “rare,” but not completely unheard of. She’d been seeing a shrink every week since she’d gotten back home. So far, nothing helped, but they assured her these things took time and the best way to recover was to try not to force it. For weeks, that was exactly what she’d done. It seemed the harder she pushed to get her memories back, the more unattainable they became. It frustrated her to the point of tears, until she finally just stopped trying.
As the elevator doors slid closed, an arm shot inside at the last minute, jarring the safety bar and triggering the sensor. She rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently as the doors slid back open. A man who was easily six-four, two-fifty, stepped inside the small elevator. She moved back, pressing into the corner to make room for the guy. Even though it was just the two of them, the small square box suddenly felt like a sardine can.
He was huge, definably muscled and strikingly handsome. His jet black GQ hair set off the most stunning pair of dark violet eyes she’d ever seen. Too bad she’d sworn off men—at least until she got her memories back and the dull, constant ache in her heart subsided. Considering she’d made zero progress in the last eight weeks, she wasn’t holding her breath.
She hadn’t seen Mitch since she’d gotten back. He’d tried to contact her a few times, but eventually had given up. Or at least her parents had stopped trying to get her to see him. Her memories of Mitch were sketchy, at best. She felt nothing for him and really just needed him to give her time and space.
She often thought of the faceless man from her dreams, the man who made her heart ache. The man her shrink worked weekly to convince her was nothing more than a figment of her imagination, someone her subconscious had made up to get her through a traumatic event.
But Olivia knew deep down in her soul that he’d been real. Unfortunately, her parents were of little help in unraveling the Liam mystery. They’d said Olivia had always kept her private life—well, private. And they didn’t know anything about him other than briefly meeting him a few times several years ago. She suspected her parents had somehow convinced Ashley to stonewall her, too, because she wasn’t talking, either. Sometimes, she got the feeling they didn’t want her to get her memories back. But then Dr. Shriner assured her that distrust and paranoia were normal manifestations of her amnesia.
And the paranoia was driving her mad. Ever since she’d gotten back home, she’d swear someone was watching her. Every time the eerie sensation would hit, the fine hairs on the back of her neck would prickle, sending a shiver racing down her spine. She knew the moment she stepped outside and crossed the street to Karen’s, the feeling would return and he’d be there.
He wasn’t easy to miss—tall, lean, muscular and deceptively handsome in a don’t-trust-me-because-I-might-just-kill-you sort of way. From out of nowhere, she would feel those pale green eyes boring into her. And he was everywhere—watching her.
She’d stopped trying to point him out to whoever she might be with. No one could ever see him. Besides, he’d never approached her. He’d never even tried to speak to her. So after a while, she added “crazy” to her list of amnesic symptoms and just started to ignore him, too. If she pretended he wasn’t there, then perhaps her mind would get tired of imagining him.
“Lobby?”
The stranger startled her from her thoughts. “What?” Had he been talking to her?
Guess so, because the guy gave her a disarming smile and pushed the L. “Which floor do you need?” he asked.
“Oh, uh…the lobby, please.”
He stepped back to his side of the elevator, which took up most of hers, as well. From the corner of her eye, she could see him watching her as the floor jerked and the elevator began to descend. Her balance still wasn’t completely normal, and her hand shot forward to steady herself against the wall.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she replied curtly, fighting back a wave of nausea. Sudden motion often made her ill. Hearing how bitchy she sounded, she winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I guess my balance isn’t what it used to be.”
“I didn’t think you were—rude, that is. My name is Tate,” he said, extending his hand with a warm smile. “I’m your guardian.”
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
ith friends
Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series) Page 38
