Darci knew it had to be trouble of the worst kind if they’d called him. Even though it was his night off, it made little difference when it came to the safety of this realm.
He got his jacket from the stand in the small hallway and pulled it on, his expression gone flat, unreadable.
“I’ll be back for you.”
“Be careful.”
“I always am, little sun.” He stroked her cheek, his hard features softening. He pressed his lips to hers in a brief kiss, and in the empty living room, he dematerialized in a scattering of molecules.
Darci sagged on the arm of the couch and rubbed her arms. Blaéz left every night to go out on patrol, yet uneasiness had never gnawed at her gut like it did right now.
* * *
Three hours later, Darci helped Declan clean up the kitchen. He packed the dishwasher, switched it on, and then washed the few glasses left over. As she put the crystal away, the front doorbell rang. Voices drifted to her.
Blaéz. Thank God.
He entered the kitchen a moment later. Though nothing showed on his face, his tension seeped into her like it was her own. She dropped the dishtowel on the table and hurried to him. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He dragged his palm over his clipped hair in a telling gesture. There, on his knuckles, she saw the healing scab.
“What was it? Can I ask?” Declan cut a quick look their way as he washed the last of the glasses.
“Demoniis.” Blaéz removed his jacket and dropped it over the chair. “They’d accosted humans in the subway downtown, probably thought them easy targets.”
“For their souls.”
Blaéz eyed him quietly and nodded.
“All destroyed?”
“Every single one of the bastards.”
The little knot of wariness still lingering in Darci eased. It was good for once to see them hold a conversation instead of their usual stoic silence. She gave her brother a quick smile and tugged at Blaéz’s hand. “Sit. I kept a plate warm for you.”
Declan set the last crystal on the dish rack, wiped his hand on a towel and walked out of the kitchen to check on the noise coming from the living room.
Darci laid the silverware on the table and retrieved the food she’d plated for Blaéz—steak, barbecued corn, a baked potato with sour cream—and set it before him. She didn’t bother with the salad since Blaéz didn’t care much for green veggies.
“Do you want a whiskey?”
He shook his head. “Water would be good.”
She poured ice water into a glass, set it near him, and took the chair adjacent to his. “What’s wrong?”
He cast her a curious look while cutting his steak. “Why would you think anything’s wrong?”
“Because I can feel your tension. It’s been there since before we got here this afternoon.”
Silence reigned. Seconds passed as he chewed his food and swallowed, then a sigh barreled out of him. “I saw Finnén yesterday when we were at the cake shop. I’m worried that this incident in the subway could be his doing.”
His twin was here? Dread knotted her insides.
There were siblings who had a love-hate relationship, but Finnén’s antipathy toward Blaéz bordered on dangerous…psychotic even. She still remembered his expression from several months ago when he’d been forced to abandon his task of executing Blaéz for mating her, a mortal. He hated Blaéz so deeply that he’d actually taken on a job as a law-keeper to kill him. And it made her a liability.
“Why would he come back?” she whispered. “He knows you’ll hurt him if he comes anywhere near the castle or us.”
His jaw hardened, his eyes gone a lethal inky blue. “If he comes anywhere nearyou, I’ll kill him.”
