by Trina M. Lee
She had both hands raised. Though she was noticeably shaky now, her cold cerulean eyes revealed her dark intentions. She seemed to be stronger in her magic, likely a result of her unholy union with a demon. If she insisted on running rogue here, things were going to go downhill fast.
“I want a piece of her.” Skylar inclined her head in my direction. “We still have a score to settle.”
“Are you kidding me?” I gaped at her in total disbelief. This bitch was totally nuts.
She shrugged, ignoring Ransom who barked threats at her. “What can I say? I know how to hold a grudge.”
Conflict was not something I enjoyed engaging in. Jett did, however. And she’d taught me early on that, when it came to people like Skylar, it was best to just put them down hard and fast, then forget them completely.
“Well, I can safely say that you don’t mean nearly as much to me as I evidently do to you, but if you really want to do this, then let’s do it.” The throbbing in my wrist provided motivation enough for me to kick Skylar’s ass. I didn’t need to draw on the past to do it.
“No. This is not happening.” Ransom was adamant. His fast-growing frustration caused his black eyes to glow like beaconing hellpits. The demon was trying hard to follow the rules Dash had laid out for him.
Too bad nobody else was on board with that.
Rowen clenched both illuminated hands into fists and advanced on Ransom. “Sorry, Ransom,” Rowen snarled. “But Spike and I have a message of our own to send Dash. We’re going to take this opportunity to use you to do that.”
“Don’t be stupid, kid. I’m not here for you. We can both walk away right now.” As Ransom pleaded with Rowen, he edged away, toward Skylar. His black gaze shot from her to Rowen, like he couldn’t decide who was more likely to do something to get him in shit with Dash.
“See that’s the thing,” Rowen said, advancing on the demon. “I can’t walk away. You came after Arrow, but you found me. Now we all have to deal with what comes next.”
Cool, calm Rowen was not the type to lose his temper. I’d seen him manage crap from Arrow that would’ve turned me into a homicidal maniac. It wasn’t that Rowen was a pushover. Not by a long shot. He had a way of handling Arrow so that he didn’t even know he was being handled. Rowen had spent years keeping Arrow from self-destructing. Ransom had made a grave mistake by threatening that, and he was about to pay for it.
“If you want to protect Arrow, there is only one way. You know that.” Ransom took his last opportunity to sway Rowen.
With a huff and a ponytail toss, Skylar muttered some Latin, effectively putting the kibosh on her husband’s efforts. The black ball of energy she threw blended in with the night, but I saw it coming. Ready for such a display, I countered with a fiery blast that lit up the street.
This wasn’t safe. We shouldn’t be doing this here. Several houses had a clear view of our confrontation. Though it was the wee hours of the morning and assumedly most people wouldn’t be up right now, we were taking an unnecessary risk.
I preferred to clock the chick and walk away, so that was the angle I approached her from. Before she could mutter another spell, I rushed her. I bent so my shoulder hit her sternum, and the momentum took her down hard. Skylar might be skilled in magic, but I doubted she spent any time practicing physical combat. Thanks to Cinder, I did.
Her shriek became a grunt as the air was crushed from her lungs. Wide blue eyes stared up at me. Skylar lay there dumbfounded. Then she snapped into action, swinging a clumsy fist driven by anger rather than skill.
I caught her fist and thrust it back at her, delighted when it smacked her nose. With my free hand I grabbed for her throat, choking off her voice while trying desperately to ignore the pain in my wrist.
“No talking. No spelling.” I held tight while she flailed about, trying to throw me off. With one arm I deflected blows until I was forced to hold a fireball obscenely close to her face. “Calm your ass down. There’s no reason we can’t all leave here without any more trouble.”
“I’m not going to fight you, Rowen.” Ransom held both hands up but stood his ground beneath Rowen’s vehement stare. “You know I can’t do that. I won’t.”
“So stand there and take it. I really don’t give a shit.” Unfazed by the demon’s protests, Rowen swung, his hit landing with a spark of brilliant white light.
He didn’t stop there. Driven by his protective anger, he fed the demon blow after blow. Ransom took it, fearing Dash more than he feared a white lighter beating. It spoke volumes as to how harsh a punishment from Dash must be. Though Arrow’s constantly bruised face and fucked up life made for ample evidence of that.
When Ransom fell against the BMW and slid to the ground, Rowen bunched the collar of his shirt in one hand and barked, “Get up. Get the fuck up.”
Blood stained Ransom’s face. Even though demons healed pretty much immediately, the hits Rowen had thrown while his hands were engulfed in light had left marks. Marks that weren’t disappearing so fast. I filed that one away for later.
Hands up in surrender, Ransom spat blood. “Ok, I get it. You made your point. Can we be done now?”
“Stay away from Arrow.” Rowen shook the demon before dragging him close. “I don’t care what Dash tells you to do, if you go near my brother again, I’ll go out of my way to find ways to hurt you. Even if that means hurting her.” Rowen nodded to Skylar who glared up at me with rage-filled eyes, though she made no further effort to fight with the fire in my palm scorching her cheek.
Ransom nodded, a pinched expression marring his too perfect features.
“Oh, and one more thing.” Rowen shoved Ransom against the trunk of the BMW. “You can take Vicky back to Dash. Tell him if he lands Arrow in prison because of this, I’ll spend my life being the biggest pain in his ass he’s ever encountered.” Rowen popped the trunk and stood with fists clenched while Ransom gathered the body in his arms and took it to the truck. Every step rigid, his body vibrated with how badly he must have wanted to kick Rowen’s ass.
Once Vicky’s remains were safely in the back of the truck, Ransom approached me with hands up. “Let me get her up. I’ll keep her quiet.”
I wasn’t one for believing a demon’s claim, but Ransom hadn’t wanted to engage with us at all. He seemed to know it was best to leave before something happened that Dash would make him regret.
Slowly I got up, keeping the fire between Skylar and me as I backed away. The instant that the heat from the flame ceased to touch her, she was spewing Latin. Ransom put a finger to her lips and muttered one word of a language I wasn’t sure had ever been human. Right away she went silent, but her scream of fury burned in her blue eyes.
He led her to the truck, more of a drag really as she fought him. That witch had a hell of a temper. Only when they’d driven away with a squeal of tires did Rowen relax.
“Are you ok? Let me see your wrist.” His shoulders slumped, and his righteous anger seemed to melt away.
“I think it’ll be ok. Probably just a small sprain.” I held out my wrist, sucking in a breath when he touched it. Not because it hurt but because the simplest of touches from Rowen could set me on fire.
Stroking a finger gently over my puffy wrist, he sighed and pulled me into a fierce embrace. “Let’s get you home so we can take care of that properly.”
The drive home was surprisingly uneventful. I kept waiting for something to come at us, but as the night drew to a close, most of the dangers of the dark had crept back into whatever hole they crawled out of. There was a huge sense of relief in knowing the trunk was empty. It would still need a proper cleaning, but now our biggest concern was the cocaine packed into the hollows of the car. As twisted as it was, I found great relief in that.
Back at my apartment I finally felt safe. In the kitchen light I was able to see the swollen bruising circling my right wrist, and then I felt ill. Rowen busied himself fetching ice from the freezer. As if falling into a routine, he again wrapped it in a dishtowel and t
hen pressed it to my wrist before pouring a strong drink for each of us.
“When do you think we’ll hear from Arrow?” I asked, uncomfortable with the silence. I could see Rowen was deep inside himself, and I feared what he might find there.
“Who knows? I’m hoping to get some sleep before he calls demanding a ride home. I’m fucking exhausted.” What Rowen didn’t say was how much of that fatigue was mental and emotional. It was all over him from the hunched way he held himself to the despair in his sigh.
I touched his face, drawing his gaze to mine. “Rowen, do you have any idea how amazing you are? I’ve never known anyone who cares as much for others as you do. You never put yourself first. I’m blessed to know you.”
He allowed himself a small smile, but the light of it never filled his lovely eyes. “Can’t say I feel all that amazing. Kind of feel like I’m a glorified babysitter for a dark nephilim, which doesn’t feel like a real job description.”
“You know I’m not Arrow’s biggest fan, but he needs you, and if you didn’t look out for him, who would?” It bothered me to see Rowen so conflicted, exactly as Dash wanted.
My gaze slid over him, and I marveled at how afraid I’d been to let myself love him. Commitment had been something I’d learned to fear and reject. It hadn’t been easy to break free of that fear’s hold on me. I felt it there, lingering, ready to sink its claws back in the first chance it got.
Rowen deserved the fight though. He was a gift, and I knew it with every part of me. Not only had I been blessed to know him, I’d discovered how much could come of giving someone the chance to prove me wrong about myself.
“Looks like you need some ice too.” I gestured to the bruised knuckles on his hand.
He pulled me close and kissed me, a deep searching kiss that still gave me a rush complete with tingles and giddiness. “No, just a little fire,” he murmured, smiling against my lips.
“That’s so cheesy.”
“You love it.”
“God help me, I do.”
After wrapping the ice-packed towel around my wrist, we moved to the bedroom. Right on cue, Rowen’s phone rang. Arrow’s name flashed on the screen. He silenced it before tossing it on the bedside table. With a shake of his head and a tired smile, he said, “He can wait. I need some sleep before I deal with Arrow again. But first, let’s start that fire.”
Tired and sore, I fell into bed with the love of my life. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him. So when an inner voice asked a question I didn’t want to hear, I knew I couldn’t suppress my deep-rooted concerns any longer. Rowen’s dedication to doing what was right would come at a price. It always did. The trouble was that I was sure he wouldn’t be the only one to pay it.
With his hands on my waist and his lips on my neck, I heard it again, echoing in the recesses of my mind. When that time comes, will you be able to let him do what he has to do?
CHAPTER TWELVE
“No, don’t go.” I groped around blindly for Rowen as he slipped from the bed. The movement of the mattress had roused me. Cracking open an eye, I made out the blurry numbers on the clock. It was just past eight in the morning. We’d slept for just a few hours. No wonder I felt like a wet sock. Was that a thing?
“I have to. Arrow needs to be picked up, and I have to get to the shop by ten. I’ll take care of your car when I get off work.” He tugged on his black jeans and searched the floor for his Sons of Anarchy reaper t-shirt that I had tossed in the dark.
Rolling into the middle of the bed, I grabbed the pillow he’d slept on and hugged it close. “Aren’t you tired? Feels like we barely slept.”
“I’ll grab a coffee on my way. Go back to sleep.” Spying the shirt partially hidden beneath my rumpled pants, Rowen pulled it over his head and sat beside me on the bed. He ran a finger over the pillow creases in my cheek and laughed. “You look adorable. Let’s take a picture.”
At his teasing, I hid my face in my pillow, fearful that I’d look up and find him with phone in hand. “No pictures. Just kiss me before you go.”
“I wouldn’t even think of leaving without one,” he said, leaning over me. “The kiss, I mean, not the picture.”
I peered up at him with a sleepy smile. His hawk fell in a mess of blue. He rocked bedhead like he’d planned to look that way. The tip of his black feather tattoo peeked out from his shirt collar, curving up the side of his neck. The intensity of his fiery amber eyes cut through me, searing to my soul.
He claimed my lips in a gentle kiss. As every day passed I expected the tingles and excitement to wane, but it had yet to fade even a little. If anything, every moment I fell a little harder for him, if that were possible.
“I’ll call you later,” he murmured, lingering as if reluctant to go. “My car keys will be on the counter if you need them. I’m taking Arrow’s drug machine.”
“Be careful.” I frowned at the thought of him driving that narcotic wagon.
I followed him to the door where we shared an embrace that left me chilled when he pulled away. After another knee-knocking kiss, I locked the door behind him and crawled back into bed. The web design job that was due in two days called my name, but I ignored it, choosing instead to chase after some much needed rest. The rock n’ roll life didn’t allow for a lot of sleep. Between work, the band, and now demons, I seldom managed more than a few hours at a time.
Rolling into the middle of the bed, I breathed in Rowen’s scent and sighed. My bed felt so empty without him. Though we didn’t spend all of our nights together, the time spent together in my bed had been increasing in frequency. Hugging his pillow, I drifted off, hoping for a few solid hours before I had to get up and tackle some design work.
My dreamless sleep brought the haze that fogs the mind after reaching total exhaustion. I resurfaced from the depths of slumber to voices coming from the kitchen. Because I recognized one of them as Cinder, I wasn’t alarmed, merely curious.
“This is getting out of hand,” Cinder said. “I’m afraid that perhaps she’s not ready for this. Am I needlessly endangering her?”
The cobwebs that clung to my brain scattered. I clutched my blanket, afraid to move.
“There will always be danger,” a low, smooth voice replied. “The longer you keep her out of it, the greater her chance of failure. You’re not usually so protective of them. Do you not think she can rise to the challenges that lie ahead? Or do you think that maybe you’ve grown too close to her?”
My lungs burned as I held my breath. Cinder was one of my best friends, a confidant whom I trusted with my life. I didn’t like our closeness as a topic of discussion.
“Ember is my charge, but she is also my friend. Of course I care for her. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be doing my job.”
After a pause, the low voice said, “You know my intent was not to question your dedication. I only seek to ensure that you don’t let your emotional attachment conflict with her calling.”
A rumble followed by the sound of metal clinking indicated that Cinder had taken a pot or pan out from the drawer beneath the oven. The brief suction noise as the fridge opened helped me to picture him in the kitchen, whipping up some kind of mouthwatering meal.
“I’ve no doubt Ember is more than capable,” Cinder spoke like a proud parent, bringing a warmth to my chest. “I’m just sorry that she has to be. Dash is a greater threat than I had expected. I know she feels the fate of Rhine’s sons is in her hands, and it overwhelms her more than she lets on.”
“Well,” the other voice paused as if in thought. “It is in her hands. She was chosen. Her father is…was among our greatest warriors. Of course she feels the pressure of such a calling. They are two of the most powerful nephilim on earth. It would be a great tragedy to lose them both to the dark. It’s a shame about the firstborn.”
A held breath puffed out, and I sucked in another, certain they would hear and know I had awakened. Eavesdropping wasn’t wrong when the conversation happened in one’s own home, was it?
“
Ember is to be their leader, not their savior.” Cinder’s tone took on an edge sharp enough to cut. “Arrow made his choice, and as long as he’s living, there is hope for him. This is not all on Ember. There is only so much she can do.”
“Then prepare her to do it, as you’re supposed to.” Calm and gentle, Cinder’s visitor sounded utterly unmoved by his defensiveness. “The demon activity in this city is hardly limited to Dash. Why not send her on a recovery mission? It may be a good way to hone her skills.”
The sizzle of something hitting a hot pan made my stomach rumble before the aroma of bacon reached me. Hunger warred with curiosity for my attention.
“You should go,” Cinder said, calmer now. “She’ll be up soon. Thank you for coming.”
Curious as to whom he was rushing out of my apartment, I rolled out of bed and slipped into a pair of fuzzy PJ pants and a KISS t-shirt. Moving as silently as I could on the carpet, I poked my head out the door.
Cinder stood over the stove. Alone. Damn.
He glanced up with a smile, as if he hadn’t known I was coming, though he obviously knew I was awake. Why else would he rush his friend away?
“Good morning,” Cinder greeted me brightly, his gaze lingering on my bruised cheek. “Or afternoon, I should say. Hungry?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Shoving a hand through my disheveled black locks, my gaze traveled over the stovetop as I spied scrambled eggs cooking on the burner next to the bacon. “Who was just here, Cinder?”
He turned back to the stove, avoiding my gaze. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough to know you’re worried. Should I be worried too? And what’s a recovery mission?” I moved about the kitchen, preparing coffee and doing my best to stay out of Cinder’s way as he cooked.
“I’m not worried, merely cautious. You should most definitely not worry yourself. Worry is useless.” Cinder made a noise of irritation as grease crackled in the pan, splashing his arm. “Recovery usually involves powerful objects, newly made or incredibly old, some a mild nuisance, others quite deadly. All of them sought or possessed by demons. We send teams to recover these items, and then we lock them away.”
