At her anxious expression, he pulled her to him and held her tightly. To see her stand there and fight for him—no one had ever done that. If he could, he’d take her and disappear from this life, but he could never escape his past. Or Maloch.
Moreover, he didn’t want to make a promise he had no idea if he’d be able to keep. Instead, he lowered his head and kissed her. At the glide of her soft lips on his, warmth flowed back into him, the long, impossibly dark days receding.
By the Heavens, it had been far too long since he’d touched her, made love to her. Needing her with a desperation of a starving man, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom…
* * *
Blaéz dematerialized with Darci to her brother’s home in the leafy suburb of Westwood later that evening. Assured she was safe, he walked back to the shadowy grove of trees past the children’s playground. With dusk approaching, he scanned the silent place. He didn’t like Darci being away from him, it made him uneasy. But she had family and he couldn’t keep her at the castle, no matter how he felt about her brother. As long as Declan refrained from pushing more men at Darci, all would be well.
Hands in his pocket, Blaéz stopped near the trees. Alone again, emptiness snaked through him. Michael sure tightened the noose when he’d taken him off patrol. With no demoniis to take off the edge, his need for a fight—a brutal one so pain would override the lengthening void inside him—grew.
His cell rang. He retrieved it from his pocket. Answered. “Yeah?”
“Sire, we have a problem,” Hedori said. “I’m at the brownstone.”
“I’ll be there.”
Blaéz dematerialized and reformed in a narrow thoroughfare a short distance from Darci’s former home. The front door opened as he ran up the few stairs. Hedori hung back, remained silent, but his orangey-green eyes were hard.
Blaéz identified the reason why before he’d even scanned.
The protection wards were damaged. The tear in the mystical weaves felt like a thousand needles pricking his psyche when he walked into the house.
Eyes narrowed, Blaéz stopped at the threshold and picked up a faint reek. Sulfur and another smell he was quite familiar with. Fish. The wards would have kept demons out but not humans. Methodically, he separated each scent and marked it. A demon and two humans.
“Nothing’s taken from what I could sense,” Hedori said.
Blaéz walked into the living room. Good thing he’d asked Hedori to ward the brownstone just as a precaution, something the Empyreans were ace at. He looked around while Hedori went to work putting up new wards.
Darci’s light scent still lingered and embraced him like an emotionless hug as he wandered around the kitchen and back to the living room. He sat at the wooden trunk she used as a coffee table and let the vibrations in the house flow through him…finding the sense of touch strongest on the couch. The humans had sat here while their demon pal waited outside.
Finally, he’d get his need for pain slaked when he force-fed those three their balls.
Blaéz left the brownstone and headed back to the thoroughfare. The Arc could curtail his duties, but when it came to his woman, nothing and no one stood in his way.
Chapter 21
“Come on, love, rest time.”Declan helped Grace back into bed.
Though he smiled, Declan still looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. His green eyes dark with anxiety. It made Darci feel utterly helpless.
She left them and made her way downstairs to the kitchen, rubbing at her face.
And then there was Blaéz. Tied to that horrid demon who’d trapped his soul. She couldn’t breathe as fear constricted her throat at what could happen the next time Blaéz was pulled back to Hell. They couldn’t seek anyone’s help because Blaéz had inadvertently broken a Guardian law. God, what a damn mess.
Darci doubted the other Guardians or even Michael knew the truth, or they would have done something ages ago to help Blaéz. She hoped. But she couldn’t risk his life on “hope.” Once mortality claimed her in a few decades, he’d be alone again—she couldn’t bear the thought of him living this kind of life for eternity.
She had to do something, find a way out of this.
Declan’s cell vibrated on the coffee table, drawing her out of her desolate thoughts as she walked into the kitchen. She put the kettle on and pulled down mugs for tea. The phone stopped only to start up again. The incessant sound would disturb Grace.
Darci hurried back to the living room, picked it up, and answered. “Hello—”
A flood of cold, Spanish-accented words filled her ears. “Enough stalling. Ten grand by midnight, my friend, or we’ll start with your knee caps first.”
The line went dead.
Too shocked to move, to do anything, the phone dropped from her stiff fingers to the coffee table in a thud. Declan walked into the living room, looking more exhausted than ever. “Who was that?”
