Breaking Fate (20 page)

“I don’t need your assistance,” Declan snapped when he saw Blaéz.

“Dammit, Dec,” Darci muttered. “Why can't you just accept help?”

One of the hoodlums, a tall, thin man in a suit turned. “Warrior, this has nothing to do with you. We have a good thing going. Go inside. There’s always a spot for you.”

Declan elbowed the one holding him. A struggle broke out. The gleam of a silver flashed in the moonlight.

“No!” Fear crashing through her, Darci darted forward. Declan grunted.

Blaéz spun around. And just as fast, the other thugs stilled. As if someone with incredible power had frozen them. Only the skinhead remained unaffected. He grinned, the next second he grabbed her. She didn't even see him move.

He leered and licked her face, his attention on Blaéz. His stink of sweat and gun-smoke had bile rushing up her throat. Darci swiped at her wet cheek. Ugh, gross!

A low growl filled the alley. Blaéz stalked closer. “Let. Her. Go.”

“Not happening.” Skinhead took another step back, dragging her with him. A red gleam flared in his dark eyes, amping her terror. “Finally, and
she
came to
us
.”

What the hell did he mean that she’d come to them?

She tugged at his arm and tried to break free, but the fiend’s grip tightened around her ribs, compressing her chest. She cried out.

Blaéz stopped a few feet away. Despite his calm expression, his eyes were like a void. He said so softly Darci barely caught his words, “You should have never touched my female.”

The skinhead stiffened. A gurgling sound escaped him. Hands flailing, he grabbed at his head. Freed, Darci stumbled away, inhaling several harsh breaths into sore lungs. The man’s eyes bulged. As if trapped in a nightmare, Darci watched. A dull explosion sounded — chunks of flesh and bone flew all over the asphalt, but instead of blood and gore, ash rained down.

Shocked to her core, she stood there, her heart near crashing through her chest. Her gaze fixed on the dust-coated ground where the man had been. Whispered, “You-you killed him.”

“
You
should have stayed where I left you.” Cold. Pitiless.

Darci turned and met eyes of burning ice. She balked.

“
That
was a demon who could have hurt you.”

“What?” She blinked. But he looked so normal.
Human.

“Demons?” Declan repeated, leaning against the wall, his face ashen. “Christ Jesus, what a fucking nightmare!”

Unlocking her shaky knees, Darci hurried to her brother, hastily bypassing the immobile thugs. She pushed Declan’s hand aside and lifted his shirt, her stomach churned. The three-inch gash on his abs bled profusely. Sweat beaded his forehead.

“Dammit, Dec,” she snapped in fear. “You should have just paid them.”

He expelled a pained breath. “I tried to at first, but they wanted all the money. I don’t have that kind of cash — and no, I won't take any from you.”

God. Darci bit the inside of her lip so she wouldn’t yell at him. With nothing to staunch the flow except for the damn check in her pocket, she grabbed the ends of his shirt and pressed it to the seeping lesion.

Blaéz stopped beside her, moved her hand off Declan’s stomach, and pushed the bloody fabric aside. He laid his open palm over the injury. A silvery blue light coalesced from his hand to hover over the stab wound.

“What the hell are you doing?” Declan jerked back.

“Healing you.” Blaéz stopped. His hand still filled with that pale light. “You could go to a doctor. But I am faster. Your choice.”

“Please, Dec—” Darci pleaded. “Let Blaéz heal you. Unless you want Grace to see you this way?”

Declan shifted and grimaced. His features taut with pain, he nodded.

As Blaéz healed him, she asked, “Is it serious?”

“No.”

Despite his even response, his fury swirled around her like a living, breathing thing. Oh, hell, this wasn’t going to end well for her.
Damn, damn, damn.

Darci tried to figure a way out of this quagmire she’d inadvertently landed in… and her panicked mind drew a blank. She’d seen the knife plunge at Declan, and simply reacted.

The wound knitted and closed, leaving a red scab. Blaéz dropped his hand.

Declan pulled off his shirt and cleaned the smears on his belly. “Thanks.” The word came out from between clenched teeth.

Darci sighed.

“What are you?” he asked flat out.

“I'm a Guardian of this realm. I keep humans safe from supernatural evil — from demons. And Darci is mine,” Blaéz said, his warning clear. Then continued, “There are Otherkin who live in this world. While most want a quiet life, there are evil ones, too. Several demons work these cages for the humans.”

“Yeah?” Declan pulled Darci protectively to his side. “Go on.”

Blaéz glanced at her but said nothing at Declan’s actions. Darci knew the calm was deceptive.

“Daniel was unaware that the friendly bet he’d made with a few of these thugs was the real deal. It’s how they get live bait for their fights, and the reason it’s an “underground” fight. With the authorities having no idea these places exist, they trap humans into bets they can't afford. With little choice, they fight. They die,” a shrug of his shoulder, “the demons take care of the evidence. If the humans live, the money’s good.”

“Daniel fought in a cage — a damn
cage
fight?” 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.

The moment they 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.”

“Okay — fine,” she harrumphed, glancing down from her precarious position to the floor. “We can have this conversation with me standing.”

“Conversation?” A dark brow arched. “Who said anything about
you
talking?”

A thread of anxiety wound its way through her. She’d never met anyone who could be so quiet in his fury. “Blaéz—”

He simply stared at her with those glacial blues.

Her mouth snapped closed of its own accord. He didn't want her to talk? Fine. He could speak until the cows came home, she wouldn’t say a word. No matter what he planned on doing, she wouldn’t break.

She glared at him. He slid his hands under her skirt and up her thighs, his callused fingers trailing heat on her skin. Her mouth dropped open.

Oh, crap. She could have held out, except for
that.

She wanted to shove his hands away. But seated on the narrow rung, she had no balance, unless she grabbed him. Yeah, that wasn’t an option, frustration buzzed through her veins. She’d rather hold a snake than that stubborn rock-headed man.

“Why do you imagine I'm angry, Darci?” he asked, tone cool. Expression unreadable. Ugh, she hated that.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to speak?” she muttered, struggling not to react and far too aware of his fingers stroking her thigh.

That stare again.

She scrambled for an answer. “I forced you to take me.” No response. He waited. Of course, he’d wait. He wanted all her sins spilled out. Damn stubborn immortal. “I should have stayed where you left me… because that man grabbed me and licked my face.”

“There’s a reason I told you to stay hidden.” A dangerous pause. “When that
demon
grabbed you, he could have flashed you out of there—”

“I didn't know that then,” she protested, “But that fiend stabbed Declan—”

“I dislike getting into their heads to kill them,” he cut her off in that low, ominous tone. “Because of the shit I usually pick up. I
saw
what he and his human pals do to females — would have done to you.”

Shocked, her mouth opened then snapped shut. She had no idea what to say as a shiver of dread spread through her. She’d only thought to help her brother. “I'm sorry.”

“Until I get that image out of my head…”

That’s it? A lecture? Oh, thank God!

She slid her feet to the lower rung to climb off. His big hands grasped her thighs, keeping her there. And he shocked all holy hell out of her as he parted her knees and stroked a finger down her silk-covered center.

“What—” Her eyes widened in disbelief.

With not a hint of softening in his austere features, he rested his booted foot on the last rung and dragged his thumb slowly over her clit like he had all the time in the world.

And he had. Crap! He wasn't on patrol.

Arousal flared. Her hands squeezed the sides of the ladder. She sucked in a sharp breath and struggled to keep her voice even. “Blaéz, I'm not in the mood.”

“Aren’t you now?”

Her words seemed to have triggered something within him. He teased the edges of her panties. Then holding her gaze, he slipped a finger beneath the silk and stroked her flesh.

“Blaéz, wait-wait—”

He didn't. With an ease that made her wonder what the hell she’d set herself up for, he removed her panties and shoved them in his back pocket.

Seated at his eye-level, he could see every-damn-thing. She had no way of closing her thighs with him planted there like a freaking pole. Holding her gaze, he parted her folds and ran a finger down her damp core. Just a touch and desire pounded at her. He brought his hand up, his finger gleaming wet with her arousal. Heat blazed across her face in embarrassment, she bit her lip. Slowly, he licked it off.

“Not in the mood? Your body and I beg to differ,” he drawled in that dangerously quiet tone. “But let me work on that anyway.”

Oh, dear God.
Her inner muscles contracted at his promise. Darci knew then she was in serious trouble. The cool-eyed man before her wasn’t the tender one who’d made love to her a few hours earlier. He was seriously pissed. “Blaéz, let me down.”

“No.”

“Anybody can walk in here.”

“Let them.”

“I’ll fall off this ladder.”

“Good. You’ll hold on tighter.”

Ire layered her arousal. “Dammit, Blaéz,” she panted. “Is this your idea of a punishment?”

His gaze narrowed, then a callused finger teased her opening. She clamped her teeth at the sensations spiraling through her. Worse, he didn't contradict her.

Worry surged. He thumbed her clit lightly and a whimper escaped her. With her freedom stolen, her knees too wobbly, she held on tighter to the ladder as his fingers tormented her with languorous strokes and little flicks.

“You’re already on edge, and I've barely started,” he mused, studying her face. “Interesting. Considering you just told me you weren’t in the mood.”

She wanted to scowl, she really did, but a moan escaped when he nipped her nipple over her top. He undid the buttons of her blouse, pulled down her bra, and bit the underside of her breast. Her breath caught. As his mouth tormented her nipple, he swiped his thumb down her center. And eased a finger into her then added another. Slowly, he slid in and out, driving her ruthlessly toward the precipice.

Darci bit back a whimper.

His eyes narrowed. He sucked hard on her nipple, pulling at the distended nub, a tug she felt all the way to her sex. A hoarse cry tore from her.

He let go of her, shifted and rested his knee on the lower rung, his dark head lowered between her thighs. He ran his tongue down her cleft. Sensations flooded her, like being tossed in a whirlwind. He lightly licked the top of her clit. She jolted as if hit by a bolt of electricity. With his tormenting mouth sucking on her, his fingers thrusting in and out of her and keeping her on the edge, unable to hold out, she whined, “Blaéz,
pleeease
…”

He looked up, slowly licking her wetness from his lips, his demeanor calm like he didn't still have his damn fingers inside her. “Please, what?”

She squeezed the wooden sides of the ladder and glowered helplessly at him, restrained by her precarious position. The words took a moment — a few years — to break free from her dry throat. “Finish this.”

A dark brow rose at her demand. “You put me in a position where I couldn’t say no when you demanded I take you to get your brother. Then you rushed headlong into danger. You did not trust me.”

Gah, he was still going on about that?

He lowered his head and nipped her clit as if he knew her thoughts before lapping away the pain.

A shuddering groan left her.
“IdotrustyouitwasjustinstinctI'msorrrrry…”
Her words ran into each other, all her defenses crashing under his onslaught.

He stilled.

Noooo,
he was going to leave her this way, unfulfilled. He was incensed enough to do so.

Then he dropped her legs over his shoulders, giving him greater access to every part of her. He lapped her, his tongue light as gossamer wings. Her body tightened. Spine tensed. He closed his lips around her clitoris and sucked, working her to a fever pitch. Blood roared in her ears…

A voice intruded. She heard Blaéz’s name.
No—no, not now!

“Make them go away!”

He laughed against her bundle of nerves — the sound so rare, her heart squeezed — but the vibrations amped up her orgasm. She choked back a cry. He sucked harder, worked his fingers faster then bit down on her clit. A rush of sheer, unadulterated desire yanked her up and tossed her over in a fiery explosion of impossible pleasure.

Her legs gave out. She let go of her precarious hold and collapsed over him.

Without any effort, he swept her off the ladder and into his arms. She buried her face in his neck, her body shuddering uncontrollably.

After a long while when the madness had eased, she became aware of his warmth, his cool sensual scent surrounding her. He sat on the couch, cradling her on his lap. At the hard bulge beneath her bottom, her lids flashed open and she met his pale, amused eyes.

She glowered. “I hate you.”

“Most do.” He didn't seem bothered by her words, just took her mouth in a possessive kiss. As his tongue took control of hers, she could taste herself. Despite her exasperation with him, she responded. Because — dammit, the man could kiss.

***

Blaéz eased away from Darci’s enticing mouth, so tempted to finish this. But when the life of his woman was on the line, the threat had to be eliminated first.

“Was
that
supposed to be my punishment?” she asked.

More like his, he thought wryly. “No. It just seemed like a good idea once I had you there.” Clamping down on his own needs, he grasped her chin. Even now, he couldn’t get past the fear he’d felt when the demon had flashed and grabbed her. “You ever put yourself in a situation like that again, Darci, you’ll find out what true punishment is.
And
I’ll make sure you have a guard twenty-four-seven — even to the damn toilet.”

Her gorgeous face pulled into a scowl, her gaze still edged with the remnants of passion. “I didn't know what he was, okay? I saw my brother in trouble—”

He cut her a granite stare. She shut her mouth. Blaéz moved her off his lap and rose, his erection a pounding ache, the scent of her arousal doing little to ease him. “I have to go.”

She hastily pushed off the couch. “I thought you were off duty?”

“I am.” No need to frighten her with the facts of what he had to do. “I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going? I thought…” Color flared across her expressive face as she rebuttoned her top and straightened her clothes.

“We will, but I have something,” — or someone — “to take care of first.” Blaéz forced his gaze away from her tempting mouth and headed for the door he’d locked with his mind when Týr came searching for him, probably to go on patrol. Unlocked it and left.

***

Blaéz dematerialized to The Bowery and the fighting pit with only one thought: Find the one responsible for sending those hoodlums to his mate’s home and deal with him.

The rage he’d barely leashed while with Darci settled into stone-cold resolve.

He’d killed the demon who’d licked her face. It wasn’t hard to dig for information from his corrupted mind. And he got a name.

Blaéz neared the basement, when the malevolent odor of decaying demons reached him, the sulfuric reek strong. Two demoniis watched the place from the shadows.

He didn't have time to engage in
this
fight. Blaéz shoved into their minds and detonated them. As they turned to ashes, he headed for the metal door. The ominous darkness inside his skull swirled awake like a thick fog, the oily voices chanting…
Kill them. They deserve it.

Blaéz walked down the dank corridor toward the arena, the scent of blood and pain filling his psyche. Grunts echoed, and the sounds of fists hitting flesh filled the air. He stopped one of the ‘hoods who passed as security. “Reno.”

The human cut him an impatient glare then froze when he saw whom it was. A hint of wariness flickered in his eyes. The guard stuck a thumb out behind him. “Security room.”

Blaéz headed down the corridor. He slipped his hands in his back pockets and felt a scrap of silk there. Darci’s panties. He scrunched them tightly and pushed them farther into his pocket, didn't want them falling in this shithole. Opening the gray metal door, he slipped into the small, cramped room. Three humans watched several monitors fixed on the cage fight.

“Reno?”

Heads turned.

“What?” A thin man with slicked-down blond hair and pale skin twisted in his chair. Flat blue eyes sparked with recognition. Smirked. “Another fight, warrior?”