He shook his head and stepped around her. “No.
Hurt flared. Shoving it back, she followed him. “So you think getting beaten again is the only way?”
“It is, after those kills—”
“What kills?”
He stopped at the study door. “Found two demoniis lurking in the alley. After getting into their heads to kill them, it is then that I’m…not very stable…I need a haul back fast.” A sheen of sweat broke out on his skin pulled even tighter over the sculptured bones of his face. His internal struggle surfacing. “I need something more to anchor me. I need…pain.”
At the starkness of his words, Darci rubbed her arms, suddenly too cold. “And I am not enough for you that you won’t even try. I’m not breakable, Blaéz.”
“Run to you every time Maloch yanks at me, which is constantly?” The helpless anger in his eyes morphed into icy rage. “I won’t do it…I refuse to taint you… It’s guaranteed to put you in the bastard’s crosshairs.”
His lucid words chilled her. Darci tried to breathe through the hurt. She couldn’t continue fighting him for every little thing if he wouldn’t even meet her halfway. “Fine.” She turned away. “Have it your way.”
A harsh curse erupted behind her as if pushed to the end of his endurance. “You want to dothis? Come on, then.”
He was at her side in a heartbeat. Steely fingers shackling her wrist, he pulled her with him. Darci had to run to keep up with his long strides, almost tripping in her flip-flops. He headed for the narrow back stairways to the basement. Instead of taking the corridor to the gymnasium, he walked in the opposite direction, and came to a dead end.
He touched a slight depression in the uneven stone wall. It slid open, revealing more stairs leading down into a gloomy passage. A dank, musty smell drifted to her. “What is this place?”
“A basement chamber.”
The door closed behind them with a sharp hiss. Blaéz opened a concealed panel, flipped a switch, and the wall slid open again. Lamps came alive, casting a soft glow around the chamber. An enormous four-poster bed with a deep blue quilt dominated the opposite wall.
There was nothing here, except for the bed and the wide empty space where they stood. Uneasy, Darci glanced around and realized there was no window. Goose bumps spread over her. The place was a little too eerie for her. “Who lives here?”
“It belonged to another Guardian.” Tone terse. “He’s dead.”
“Why—” she swallowed. “Why are we here?”
Whether he heard the apprehension in her voice, she had no idea, but he let her go. Darci rubbed her wrist and watched him anxiously.
“You don’t want me fighting in the cages, very well, but I need something more.”
“What?”
He walked to the black wooden chest opposite the bed and opened it. He searched through the contents then rose and crossed back to her. Her gaze fastened on the plaited, black, snake-like whip he held it out.
“You can’t be serious!” Darci stumbled away, eyes wide in horror at what he asked, visions of her nightmare flooring her. She was thinking more along the lines of making love; rough, hard, whatever. Never this.
“Don’t worry,” cynical laughter, “I dislike being restrained.” He pulled off his tee and tossed it aside. “Wield it like this.” He cracked the whip away from her. It streaked out like lightning in front of him. “It’s a shorter one—I don’t wantyouhurt.”
Darci’s mouth wouldn’t cooperate, her voice stuck in her throat. The tight lines of his face revealed nothing of the man she knew. His features like stone. He pressed the hilt into her clenched palm. “Now try.”
Shaking her head, she stared at the evil thing in her hand.
“Do it,” he snapped.
Her chest heaving, she lashed out in reflex. Once. Twice. The whip crackled in the air. Jaw tight, he nodded and crossed to the rough wall. Bracing his hands on the uneven stone surface, he gave her his scarred back.
“Don’t hold back. This isn’t about controlling your strikes.”
Faced with the harsh reality, her limbs turned to water. “I can’t.
“Now!”
She jumped at the harsh order. The whip fell from her fingers.
