Absolute Surrender (34 page)

He stared at Michael’s retreating back. For fuck’s sake!
Angelic allure? That shit was worse than pheromones, and it would only get stronger. He swore again when he thought of the males going after his mate.
Gritting his teeth, he
headed for the gym. He found Blaéz already there, in the process of pulling on his sweats.

“Everything go all right last night?” Aethan asked him as he changed.

“We had our moments. Same old crap. Broad-swords or katanas?”

“Really don’t care—katana.”

“There’s something else,” Blaéz continued, removing the swords from the reserves. “When I went to pick up the Range Rover, I did a recon in Demon Alley. Oddest thing, the rift there, it’s decreased. Seems to be mending at a faster pace, too.”

Aethan pulled back his hair and tied it with a leather strip. “It’s Echo. She’s Zarias’s descendant. Michael confirmed it this morning.”

***

Echo ambled along beside Aethan through one of the castle’s lush gardens she had yet to explore, drinking it all in. She’d only seen the manicured grounds from the bedroom window. The cold breeze stung her cheeks. She pulled her beanie down over her ears and stuffed her hands into her coat pockets.

They passed a freshwater pond. Streams of silver flashing near the surface caught her eye. Then the tiny fish darted away.

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” she asked.

A smile tugged at his mouth, but his gray eyes were grave. “So impatient.”

She wrinkled her nose and turned away to take in the glorious view. “This entire place is so amazing, but that,” she said, pointing to a wood and glass enclosed gazebo situated on a small, man-made island in the middle of the lake, “has to be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Wisteria, weeping willow, and other trees she didn’t recognize grew in abundance around the lake, their branches dipping into the shimmering water. Aethan led her across the wooden bridge to the island. The place was barren of flowers, the grounds prepared for winter.

“So, what normally grows here?” she asked, looking around. “It must truly be beautiful in the spring.”

“Wildflowers.”

Echo glanced back at him. She couldn’t read his face, but she saw the shadows cloud his eyes.

She looked back at the building and, on the wall, spotted a small, engraved gold plaque. She went closer, traced a finger over the old script, unable to decipher the language. But one word stood out.

Ariana.

His sister. He’d dedicated this place in her memory.

Tears clogged her throat. “It’s beautiful, Aethan.”

“It’s just a building. Come,” he said, his tone abrupt.

Hedori hadn’t told her how Ariana had died. But it must have been bad, if Aethan was banished. Echo hoped he’d talk about what happened, about the past, which put such bleakness in his soul. All she wanted was to ease his pain.

He pushed open the door to the gazebo, waited for her to enter. The warmth of the interior startled her, the décor even more so. A semi-circular, wicker, lounge set lined the wooden walls, the cushions a harmonious blend of blues and greens. It was peaceful, a place to escape to.

Aethan shrugged off his coat, tossed it on the armchair, and helped her out of hers.

“This place is so...” She searched for a word.

“Isolated?”

She laughed. “No. Beautiful.” She crossed to a window and stared out. Tall, dark trees surrounded the place. Maples added a splash of color with their variegated leaves, most of which littered the ground. Squirrels darted about stirring the colorful carpet. “And peaceful. Usually when I need to unwind, I go to the roof of my building. Just me and the stars—” She stopped, realizing she sounded melancholy.

“It’s yours.”

“Aethan—”

“Echo, everything I have is yours,” he said, his tone implacable. “Protesting serves no purpose. Come and sit down.”

Sighing, she glanced around. On the square, glass-top, wicker table stood a black thermos coffee pot and silver-covered dishes.

“A
tête-à-tête
?”
she teased.

The predatory look she knew so well was back in his eyes. “I guess talking can wait a bit.”

Her teasing died a quick death. Remembering the wicked things his mouth could do had her sitting down and clamping her thighs together. It made her hot, and left her wanting.

His expression tightened when she didn’t respond.

What was she supposed to do? He’d give her the orgasm of her life, she knew, but he’d still be unfulfilled, in pain. She pushed those thoughts aside.

He raked his fingers through his unbound hair, giving it some semblance of order, exposing the silver hoops in his ears. His crewneck sweater revealed every ripple of muscle with his movements. He made one heck of a sight for a woman who hungered for him.

She concentrated on why he brought her here. “Feels like I’m back in school. Okay, what did I do?”

Gray eyes held hers. He didn’t answer, just shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, which was unlike him.

“Aethan? You’re scaring me.”

“You recall what I told you about the demons looking for a psychic female relating to a prophecy?”

She nodded, slipping her hands under her bottom to keep them warm. “I remember. She’ll be able to heal rifts.”

“Yes. She is the Healer, a descendant of an angel annihilated eons ago. A demon believes
binding
this female to him will allow him the freedom of entering all the realms. Since no one can reap psychic powers, he will use her abilities to fulfill his goals.”

“What are you going to do then?” she asked. Getting off the couch, she headed for the heater.

***

Aethan watched her kneel on the rug in front of the radiator, holding out her hands to warm them. He knew she listened to him with half an ear. He sat down on the wicker couch, stretched out his legs. Echo appeared to be taking all this in stride. So why was he worried about telling her?

“What we have to do is keep her safe and away from demon clutches but she makes that difficult to do.”

“You found her?” Her gaze lifted to his. “But that’s wonderful.” Then she frowned. “You said bind her, how?”

“There’s only one way to do that in the supernatural world. Through the most intimate act possible.”

A moment passed, then a flush rushed across her face when she realized he was talking about sex.

“Oh. Where is she?”

Aethan didn’t say a word. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and looked at her.

Bi-colored eyes watched him curiously. A short silence followed, then those eyes widened. Color leeched from her face as understanding dawned.

“No–no! No way!”

“Echo, you are the Healer.”

***

Echo shot to her feet as her flight response took hold. Flinging the door open, she rushed outside, gasping for air. The urge to run, to escape from a destiny she didn’t want, filled her. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her body, shivering as icy needles of air stabbed her skin. She stared blankly at the trees in the distance.

Warmth surrounded her when her coat was draped around her shoulders. Aethan’s hands tightened briefly on her shoulders before falling away.

“I don’t want this,” she whispered. “You guys made a mistake is all.”

“There is no mistake, Echo.”

Of course, there wouldn’t be. These powerful immortals would not make such a foolish error. She wanted to rant at him, at the unfairness of it all. The only thing she longed for was a normal life.

Normal
? For
her
? A dark laugh trembled on her lips. That was never on the cards for her. Not since the day she was born, it seemed.

And she was knee deep in self-pity again.

She squeezed her eyes shut and slid her hands into her jeans pockets, but even the stones didn’t work their magic on her this time. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “How long have you known?”

“About the prophecy? A while. About
you
being the one? The moment I saw your eyes.”

CHAPTER 23

Aethan steered her back into the warmth of the gazebo and waited for the explosion. He understood his mate all too well. She paced over to the window, her movements stiff, her hand shoved into her jeans pockets.

“I want you to say this is all a mistake, but...”

He saw the fragile line of her throat move as she swallowed. And wished to hell that was true.

“All right.” She turned to him, her face still far too pale for his liking. “Hit me.”

Shock exploded through him. “
What
?”

A tremulous smile touched her lips. “I mean tell me everything. I have to know what this is all about, right?”

Right. His heart settled. “‘Remember the name Michael said when he saw you?”

A crease marred her smooth brow. “Zarias?”

“Yes. He was the leader of the highest level of angels. You are his descendant,” Aethan said, deciding to leave the history lesson of the Watchers for a later time. “The prophecy states one will be born of fire and ice and will see into the supernatural.

“You have Zarias’s eyes. It’s how Michael recognized you. Being who he is, he would know, since he knew Zarias at one time.”

“Oh God!” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Aethan, I don’t want this. I don’t want to be a descendant of any angel—this responsibility.”

Aethan cupped her face and held her gaze with his. “It will be all right. You’ve already started, it seems, and on all on your own, too.”

She pulled his hands from her face and narrowed her eyes. “When did I do this impossible feat?”

“Last night. The alley I took you to? A rift had been there until recently.”

“What do you mean ‘until recently’?”

“The fissure shrank.
Demoniis
can’t use it as a gateway anymore.”

“How—why?”

“Because of you. You didn’t get sick, Echo. Your energies were depleted when the magic in the psychic veils recognized you. It drew from you, from the healing abilities that lie in your blood, those of Zarias. When your powers get stronger, you will be able to leave this realm, go to others that need your help and heal them.”

Her eyes clouded with unease, she stared at him. “I can’t be responsible for things of such magnitude. I can’t. I’m just someone who had a rotten childhood and managed to get some semblance of a life in my adulthood. I’m only twenty-three. Why me?”

“Because fate’s a bitch,” he said, reaching for her.

She wrapped her arms around his waist as if seeking his strength.

“I understand,” he said after a while, when it appeared as if she wouldn’t leave the shelter of his arms. “This will be hard on you. I mean, it’s one thing to kill
demoniis,
but something that needs the magic of your bloodline to heal is scary.”

Her pliant body stiffened. She pushed away from him. “Is that what you think I am? Scared?”

He shrugged.

Her eyes fired up in irritation. “I’m not scared. Not of that—well, not anymore. I just don’t want to be liable...” Her eyes narrowed, fixed on him. “For so many.”

He waited.

Then she scowled and smacked him in his stomach with her palm. “Owww!” She pulled her hand back and glared at him. “I’m not talking to you for that cheap shot. And for the pain in my hand.” She turned away, shaking her fingers.