Michael rose to his feet and joined them. “A little rest and she’ll be fine. I’ve sent her into a deeper sleep.”
“Blaéz?” At the sound of Echo’s voice, he glanced her way. “Would you like me to see to her?” she asked.
“No. I’ll do that.”
Týr eyes widened in surprise then he deliberately cleared his ear with a finger, as if he had a damn rock lodged there. “You will?”
Blaéz ignored him. He crossed back to Darci, slipped his hands beneath her warm body and picked her up. He sucked in a harsh breath as he walked out of the lounge. Despite being prepared for the backlash of touching her, emotions charged through him again like a kick in the gut—anger, anticipation, and gut-searing desire. But worse, with it, came perception. Guilt at the truth of what he was. Something he didn’t care to feel.
Moment’s later, in his darkened quarters on the second floor, he willed on one of the sconces near the bed and laid Darci on the dark covers then hunkered down beside her. The low light cast a soft golden glow over her tan features. As if compelled, he picked up her hand and against his big, callused one, hers was too slender, delicate. It made him want to gather her close, protect her from any danger. He had no idea why she affected him this way.
His gaze fastened on the grime on her hand then lowered to her ruined top.
Now what? Did he remove her clothes and make her comfortable? No, he had a feeling she’d probably become hysterical if she woke and found herself naked in a strange bed, especially after her ordeal.
Right, the clothes remained. He removed her shoes, dropped them to the floor then rose to his feet. The dried blood on her chin had him moving again. He cut through his dressing room leading into the huge black and gray marbled bathroom with its elongated trio of stained glass windows. From the rails, he grabbed two towels, but with no container for water, he dampened one and headed back for her.
Gently, he cleaned the dried blood from her cheek and chin. The cut on her mouth had healed with Michael’s help, along with the bruises on her cheek. Blaéz brushed away the wavy strands from her face and lightly ran his finger over the feminine lines of her jaw in awe. Emotions flowed through him again as if he were connected to a low voltage battery. Not the deluge from earlier, but gentler now.
Frowning, Blaéz dropped his hand. Was it because she was asleep and no longer in pain that emotions didn’t barrel through him? With no answer, he collected the soiled towels and took them back into the bathroom. He dropped them in the laundry hamper when a thud broke the quiet.
Blaéz sped through the dressing room into the dimly lit bedroom and stopped cold, his gaze on the empty bed. Dammit. She shouldn’t have awakened, not with the deep sleep Michael had put her in. Wherever she was, he’d find her. She couldn’t have gone far. Movement to his left caught his attention. He found her huddled in the shadowy corner of the room.
“What are you doing down there?”
Her hands flashed out. “Stay back.”
Well, that wasn’t working for him. He had to know she was all right. He took another step.
“No!” Her guttural cry stopped him dead. She pushed to her feet, her gaze unfocused. Her fear slashing at him like razors. He held his hands up, hopefully in a non-threatening manner. She scurried backward, tripped, and hit the bedside table behind her. The obsidian dagger he’d tossed there, forgotten and rarely used, rattled. She grabbed it and held it defensively with shaky hands. “Stay away.”
Her words were a rough rasp. It made him realize how much she must have screamed. He hadn’t heard her because he’d arrived a few minutes too late, busy keeping the damn city safe.
Anger infiltrated, fast and furious. Blaéz wanted to go back and break the humans’ bones all over again. “I did not hurt you,” he said quietly. “I would never hurt you. Those who did, they paid.”
“Where—” she swallowed, “Where am I? Who are you?”
She didn’t remember him? “You are in my home. You know who I am.”
“I do?”
“Yes, Darci.” She stiffened at his use of her name. He willed on all the wall sconces. Light brightened the room. Her gaze widened in recognition.
“I am Blaéz.”
Chapter 4
Blaéz.
The man who’d saved Daniel and who had come to the library to see her. Darci stared at him for a long second.No, he hadn’t hurt her…others had…
Her breath caught in her throat, her mind releasing the terror it hid.
But he’d taken a car apart without touching it. He’d flung the men who’d attacked her on the sidewalk the same way. Panic took hold. He was even more dangerous than the others. She dashed for the door. He beat her there, blocking her way, a large looming presence.
“No—stay away from me!”
Her gaze darted around. Was there no escape from this prison? A cool breeze drifted to her. Panting hard, she made a run for the open windows and prayed they were on ground level. The windows slammed shut. She jumped back, her heart crashing in her chest and spun around.
