* * *
Aware of the threat, Blaéz kept Darci behind him and turned. The moment he laid eyes on the tall, rangy male with a sword strapped to his back, Blaéz knew what this was.
The irony didn’t escape him. When he’d longed for death, no one bothered, now that he finally had something to live for, they appeared like a damn rash. As if he’d be that easy to get rid of.
“Get inside the car,” he told Darci his gaze pinned on the dark-haired law-keeper.
Once she shut the door and was safely out of danger’s way, he hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets. Waited.
“You know why I’m here.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Don’t play games, Fallen.” The law-keeper drew out the gleaming, black-edged, silver blade from his scabbard. “It’s been a while since I’ve used the Mating Sword.” He stroked the blade’s edge. “So, I’d really hate to be starting with you. This is a warning. I’m sure you wouldn’t like to see that little mortal dead?”
At the mockery of the sword’s name, and more for threatening Darci, Blaéz punched him in the face. The satisfying sound of bones crunching filled the morning air.
The law-keeper roared in pain. “For that alone, I’ll make it hurt before I kill you!”
“You can try.”
Swiping the blood from his face and with a guttural growl, the law-keeper vanished in a flash of blue light.
Before he returned with reinforcements, Blaéz stalked back to the driver’s side and got into the car. Making a U-turn, he peeled back toward the castle, trying to clamp down on the fear that wouldn’t leave. Darci could have been alone, and the bastard would have thought nothing at threatening her.
“Obviously, he’s not a friend. You hit him. Why?”
At her worried tone, anger renewed, consuming him like a flame. It took a moment to speak. “Because it was either that or kill him.”
“What did he do?”
How did he explain about his old world’s archaic law, one that still bound him? They may not be in immediate danger, but those bastards from the pantheons worked fast. If Darci were just some one-night stand, no one would bother about them. But a mortal female taken as a mate was a definite transgression. Once mated, they would immediately blip on the pantheon’s radar because only mated couples bore children. And mortals were never meant to have the powers of gods or angels.
He couldn’t mate Darci. One needed a soul for that bonding to occur. Still, she had to know the risks.
“Besides the danger from demons and demoniis, there’s another. It comes from my old world. There are those from the pantheons who would hunt us.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because of their fucked-up laws. Mortals and immortals cannot form a liaison—cannot mate. What happened just now was supposed to be a warning,” he said, tone grim. “They want us dead. They won’t win. I will kill every one of them.”
“Oh, dear God.” Her whispered prayer made his jaw harden. He parked in the large underground garage that housed their cars, SUVs, and bikes and turned to her.
She released her seat belt. Her beautiful eyes crowded with anxiety. “Blaéz, what do we do?”
“You? Nothing.” He picked up her ice-cold hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’ll keep you safe, but I need you to do something for me.”
She eyed him warily. “What?”
“I would never curtail your activities, but with this threat looming, we have to be careful.” She tensed as if she knew what was coming. “About your job—”
“You want me to leave.”
“Yes.”
* * *
Assassin gods from the pantheons wanted them dead? Darci struggled to get her mind wrapped around what had just happened as she got out of the car. Locking the vehicle, Blaéz grasped her hand and headed for the entrance, punched in a code, and the thick wooden panel opened. She stepped into a silent, rather utilitarian corridor. It flowed out into a canal of white walls and gray tiled floors with doors on either side.
