“Daniel fought in a cage—a damncagefight?” Declan reiterated in fury. “Christ Jesus, he could have died—I will kill him!”
Darci wasn’t listening to Declan but glowering at Blaéz. She’d heard that man call him “warrior” and say he always had a spot. “And yet you fight in here.”
“You forget an important detail. I am immortal—” At the groans drifting to them, Blaéz turned and stared dispassionately at the three men who stumbled about, coming back to their senses. “You won’t have any more trouble from them.”
The thugs looked around in confusion, glanced their way then lurched for the metal door. Darci knew he’d taken away their memories, like he had with Daniel. Her gaze rushed back to her brother.
“Dec, you cannot tell Grace or anyone about this.” She didn’t want Blaéz to do any more memory swipes on her family. Much as she appreciated not having those horrible mobsters on her family’s back, it was cruel. Vicious. And anything could go wrong. She’d seen him kill that man—demon with just a thought.
Declan pinned Blaéz with a cold look. “Secrecy and all that, makes sense now. Why Darci could never tell me exactly what it was you did. Why there is nothing about you in any database—”
“Dec, you didn’t,” Darci said, dismayed.
“You’re my sister. Of course, I did.” Like the hardhead he was, Declan wasn’t relenting on this either. “And I cannot keep something like this from Grace.”
“You may tell her,” Blaéz said. “Just her.”
“Come on, Dars, let’s go.” Declan took her by her arm.
“No. She goes home with me.” There was no apology in Blaéz’s resolute tone.
Crap. Declan had no idea she’d moved in with Blaéz. Before she could say anything, his piercing green eyes shifted to hers. Her heart dropped as understanding dawned in them, along with grief and pain. “There is no new job, is there? You’re living with him?”
Fighting back her despair, she nodded. His jaw tightened.
Darci couldn’t understand her brother’s antagonism toward Blaéz. He’d healed Declan, revealed his world to him so he’d know exactly whom she was with and would be safe, but still Declan looked like he wanted to kill Blaéz.
“I’m fine, Dec—” She tried to reassure him. “Go, Grace will be waiting.”
Declan pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, almost cutting off her air supply. As he stepped back, the glare he cut Blaéz was filled with so much anger and hostility, Darci knew he would never change his mind.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he told her before stalking off for his SUV parked farther up the alley.
How could everything fall apart this way? She let out a shaky breath and swung back to Blaéz. “I’m sorry about my brother.”
Eyes pale and flat as the moon shifted to hers. “It’s not your brother that concerns me.”
Oh, hell. Did she really think he let her get away with blackmailing him?
Unease trickled in an icy trail down her spine as he led her back to the shadowy building, a firm hand on her lower back. This definitely wasn’t going to end well for her.
Chapter 22
The momentthey entered the foyer, Darci tried to scurry off, but Blaéz snagged her wrist, his fingers like a manacle. “Bedroom or library? Choose.”
Uh-oh. “Library,” she croaked. He couldn’t do much to her there, could he? Anyone could walk in.
“Sire?” Hedori called out, heading toward them from down the corridor.
Blaéz let her go. Darci escaped to the library, grateful Hedori had waylaid him. It gave her a moment to get herself together. She rubbed her wrist. Blaéz hadn’t hurt her, but she could still feel the power of his grip. Restless, she restacked the books and papers on the desk
Blaéz stalked inside minutes later and shut the door behind him.
Darci straightened and eyed him warily. As he closed the distance between them, she backed away. “Blaéz, look, I know what—”
He swept her up into his arms. She gasped, clutching him around his neck. He glanced around then crossed to the old but sturdy stepladder leaning against the bookshelf. With a foot, he pulled it forward and dumped her butt on a high rung. Startled, she grasped the wooden sides, finding herself a head above him. “Wh-what are you doing?”
Those pale eyes met hers. About as warm as ice. “Right now, I wouldn’t talk if I were you. Trust me, you’d prefer I’m not provoked any further.”
