“Because I didn’t know it was you,” she said, voice husky with torment. “I never saw your face, just your back. I thought it all a nightmare, until…”
“Until what?” Blaéz demanded.
“Until The Morrigan showed up today.” She whirled back to the warriors, leaving Blaéz too stunned to do anything but stare at her. That’s why The Morrigan didn’t appear when he’d summoned her; she’d been busy snaring Darci into her fucking duplicitous web.
“There was a tremor in the caves, like an earthquake,” Darci continued. “Blaéz’s soul slipped Maloch’s clutches when he stumbled, and it went back to the goddess of war and death.”
A low snarl rolled out from his throat. Damn The Morrigan, she knew and she hadn’t told him anything.
“Blaéz—” Darci glanced back at him. “The Morrigan couldn’t tell you this—something about balance. So she tried to show you. But you refused to talk to her.”
“This has nothing to do with him breaking his oath,” Týr snapped.
“It has everything to do with it,” Darci retorted. “Because that demon, Maloch, lied. He’s somehow bound Blaéz. It’s why he can’t fight the pull back to Hell no matter how hard he tries, and he does. But Maloch wanted more—”
“Darci, stop.” Blaéz didn’t want his shame displayed for all. He was still trying to get a handle on the fact that she’d seen everything that had happened. Christ, did sheseewhat Maloch had done to him?
“No, let her finish,” Michael instructed, appearing in a swirl of silvery sparks in front of them.
Darci gave Blaéz a quick look before she turned to Michael. “Maloch wanted Blaéz to join him, to never leave. Blaéz refused and fought the pull; it’s why he preferred getting beaten. Pain keeps him anchored.”
“Why would the bastard want that?” Týr asked. “I get the demons hate us.”
“That, they do,” Blaéz finally said. “But Maloch wanted one like us tied to him for eternity, maybe as a coup—who the hell knows.” No way would he reveal why the depraved fucker wanted him. “I do his bidding, punish the damned, and he proves his enormous sway in the Dark Realm—”
“Maloch captured innocent mortals and tortured them.” Darci narrowed her eyes at him. “He played on Blaéz’s Guardian oath, said he’d only free the souls if Blaéz picked up the fiery hell-bound whip and finished theirpunishment.”
“I couldn’t leave them with Maloch,” Blaéz admitted. “They could no longer live normal lives. Death was better.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you say something?” Týr looked like a sledgehammer had whacked him in the gut.
“Because you would have done exactly what I imagine you want to do right now—walk back into that shithole for vengeance.”
Cursing a vicious streak, Týr pinched the bridge of his nose and paced away to the edges of the clearing. His sword shimmered and vanished.
“Now what?” Aethan asked. “That asshole cannot control a Guardian. How do we break this tie?”
Darci responded, rubbing her arms as if she were cold. “Blaéz said he feels the tug the strongest during the demon’s blood moon.”
“Yes, it would make sense,” Michael agreed. He glanced back at Blaéz. “Getting your soul back would be the only way to null and void the binding.”
“Go back to Hell?” Týr bit out, stalking back to them, his face parchment pale.
“No, not you.” Michael glanced at Aethan. “You’d be best for this. Go with Blaéz. You’ll need to find Maloch’s abode. Demons’ are notorious for keeping things they covet close. The former would be difficult enough to locate, the latter once you get in…dangerous. So be careful. I’ll see if I can find out anything about the demon’s whereabouts.”
Aethan nodded. Echo blanched, but she said nothing, probably recalling the time when she’d been trapped there and died. Aethan dropped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.
“It’s okay, there’s no need for any of that,” Blaéz told them. He drew Darci protectively to him and inhaled her soothing scent. “I’ll just have to find a way to resist the call. He sent those demons after me in retaliation,” he nodded in the direction of the castle, “when I was pulled back there a few days ago, I killed several of Maloch’s minions and injured him.”
“So this was to cause trouble, reveal what you’d done,” Michael mused.
“I’d imagine so.”
“What did he mean when he said he wanted the librarian?” Dagan drew out a half-smoked cigar from his pants pocket and lit it.
Darci stiffened in his arms. “What?”
Blaéz tightened his hold, no way would he let the bastard get anywhere near her. He pressed his lips to her hair. “He’s not coming within breathing distance, let alone touching you. I will kill him first.”
