Blaéz flashed and grabbed her before she hit the asphalt. She yanked free from him, tears of pain dripping down her face. There were raw and bloody scrapes on her cheek. An ugly bruise had formed on the side of her jaw. Blood trailed from her split lower lip, down her chin, and dripped on her gaping shirt. Purple bruises marred her breasts. Breathing harshly, she pulled her top closed with trembling hands and watched him with terrified eyes.
Did she think him one of the fuckers who’d hurt her? The urge for vengeance grew, he thirsted for it, but a deep-seated need demanded that he see to her first.
Slowly, he reached for her again. “I won’t hurt you.”
“No-no!”she shrieked, hitting him. Her nails caught him in the neck. Blaéz grabbed her and crushed her to his chest, his protective instincts so strong, so unfamiliar. “Shh,a leannan, I have you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead—
A streak of pure agony shot through him as if struck by lightning. Pain, unlike anything he’d ever received almost brought him to his knees. His heart nearly crashed through his ribs. Unable to cope with the flood of emotions, he sent her to sleep and dematerialized, shooting a telepathic message to one of the warriors—he had no idea who—for clean up.
Moments later, he took form in front of the castle. Pain had him clenching his jaw as he stumbled inside and into the foyer. The butler appeared and rushed toward him in a blur, his inhuman orange-green eyes flashing with concern.
“Sire, allow me.” Hedori reached for Darci.
An animalistic growl escaped Blaéz. “No one touches her.”
Hedori pulled back, hands raised in a placating manner, his voice calm. “You will drop her and she’ll come to more harm. I’m sure that is not what you want?”
Did Hedori think him injured? The male had no idea of the truth—of the emotions coursing through Blaéz that had him weak and sweaty. Ignoring Hedori, he willed the lounge door open and staggered toward the couch. Gently, he laid Darci down. Her freed hair spilled out like honey-brown swirls on the black leather.
Michael entered a few seconds later. He must have picked up on the distress Darci was emitting. Good, he could heal her, instead of always being on Blaéz’s back about his proclivities for the extreme. He didn’t trust himself right now with all the emotions barreling through him, a chaos of feelings he could barely handle. He needed to calm down fast.
Michael’s gaze went straight to Darci. Her ripped blouse revealed the darkening bruises on the soft curves of her breasts. Her skirt had hiked up and exposed her tanned thighs. Blaéz picked up a knitted throw that smelled a lot like Echo from the armchair and laid it over Darci, concealing her chest and bare legs.
“Heal her,” he said, stepping back. She was human, she could die so easily.That, he refused to allow.
“What happened?” Michael asked.
“An attempted abduction. Saved the female, but they’d already hurt her.” Vengeance grew, demanded justice when he remembered the fear in her eyes.
“Demons?”
“Humans. She’s a relative of the lad from the cage fight.”
Michael cut Blaéz a sharp look then lowered to his haunches and examined the scrapes and bruises on Darci’s face.
Did he have to be so damn close?
Jaw locked down, Blaéz stuck his fists into his pants pockets so he wouldn’t haul the archangel away when he removed the throw. Michael held his hand an inch above her facial injuries. A silvery-white glow seeped out from his palms and coalesced into Darci.
Blaéz paced to the window, unable to remain still. Or watch. Felt as if his skin were all that was holding him together, stopping him from unleashing his anger. He tried to sort through what was happening to him. From the moment he’d met her, emotions had trickled into him like a low-voltage bulb when he was around her, but the moment he touched her or put his lips on her skin…it became sharper. More intense.
At the sound of footsteps, Blaéz turned.
Echo entered the room. Concern crossed her angular features when she saw Darci, then her mismatched amber and gray eyes cut him a worried look. “Is she going to be okay?”
Blaéz nodded. He’d accept nothing less.
The door opened again. Týr and Aethan walked into the lounge. Týr dropped a pink tote on the armchair then stared in surprise at Darci. Blaéz wanted to knock the warrior’s teeth down his throat. Irrational, but there it was.
Aethan gave Darci a brief glance as he pit-stopped near his mate for a quick stroke of her arm and a kiss to her nape before he strolled over. Gunmetal gray eyes gleamed. “Found your signature trails,” he said, retying his multihued dark blue hair back into a stubby ponytail, revealing small silver hoops in his earlobes. “Torn car doors. Broken bones—”
“Those three fuckers?” Blaéz asked.
“Cops were already there. Guess they’ll be sent off to hospital.”
Týr walked over with a shit-eating smirk. “Damn, Celt, you’re one brutal son-of-a-bitch. Good thing you play on our team.”
He had no idea. Týr’d probably rip free the sword tattooed on his biceps and decapitate Blaéz at the truth.
