Crave the Darkness (5 page)

“I’ll be close if you need me,” Raif offered, albeit awkwardly.

Jesus, how bad was I? Did I look like a flight risk? Or worse? “I know,” I said, just as awkward. “I’ll be fine.” I moved to close the door, but Raif didn’t budge, his lean warrior’s body taking up most of the space in the frame. “Raif.” I repeated a little firmer this time, “I’m. Fine.”

He took a step back and inclined his head. “Good evening, then.”

“’Night.” I closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. The ache in my chest had returned somewhere between the gym and my room. Time sped by, minutes passing as I tried to regain control of my emotions. I rubbed at S I I Imy sternum, tears springing to my eyes. The pain wasn’t going to go away overnight. It might not ever leave. Only Ty could fix me. Until he came home, I’d remain broken.

The door rattled on its hinges, the demand of a pounding fist. I stretched my neck from side to side, took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths. If I denied anyone entry, it would be like throwing up a red flag. And right now, the last thing I needed was another intervention.

“Raif . . .” I said throwing the door open wide. Not Raif. Fuck me.

“Why aren’t you coming to dinner?” Xander asked in a tone that screamed bossy.

I met his stare, gold flecks blazing. He looked agitated. Go figure. “I’m not hungry. Raif kicked my ass in the gym. I want to take a shower and go to bed. Is that all right with you,
Your Highness
?”

Xander barged past me, and I realized if I was staying here, I would have to invest in some heavy-duty locks. Maybe I could get Reaver, the Time Keeper of the mortal realm, to throw down some wards for me. I’d like to see Xander get past Sidhe magic. He wandered around the room, assessing it for livability for all I knew. “Is this room big enough to suit you?” he turned and asked.

First dinner, now the room? Since when did he become my personal concierge? I looked around the suite, half as big as my apartment. All I was missing was a kitchen and I’d never have to leave.
If only.
“It’s more than big enough, Xander,” I said. “Now get the hell out of here so I can go to bed.”

“And your things,” Xander continued like I hadn’t asked him to leave. “Everything is here?”

“I don’t know.” I tried to keep from sounding too testy. “No one will give me a moment’s peace to see for myself.”

The King of Shaedes looked around the room, anywhere but right at me. Usually the epitome of calm, cool, and collected, Xander came across as nervous and unsure. He studied a Monet on the far wall, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t a reproduction. “I’m . . .” He paused, cleared his throat. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re
not
fine. You can tell Raif whatever the hell you’d like, but do not lie to me.”

I kicked at the plush Persian rug with my boot. Fuck him. He didn’t know shit about me.

In three quick strides, Xander stood before me. He put his hands on my shoulders, gripping me tight. Adrenaline kicked up in my veins as the heat from his touch warmed my flesh through my shirt and his gaze locked with mine. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes right now, Darian. Your cheeks are sunken. Your skin, sallow. Your eyes no longer sparkle like emeralds, but are instead complemented by these black circles.” He brushed the hollows of my eyes with his thumbs, as if sweeping away invisible tears. “Raif says you sleep too much, but do you get an ounce of rest?” He gently traced the skin along my jaw and I shuddered. “Your expression never changes. Your mouth is a hard line. And I remember what you used to look like: fierce and full of passion. You were as the sun. And now, there is nothing but shadow.”

Shadow. There was a shadow on my heart.

“No, Darian,” Xander said, tipping my chin up so I’ Sin was a sd meet his gaze. “I see you retreating within yourself. Don’t go there. You deserve more than what he gave to you. Your heart is too good for a Jinn to break.”

I’d made so many foolish mistakes and I was haunted by each and every one. I could feel the panic mounting, my pulse picking up, a sweat breaking out all over my body. The need to run away from myself overwhelmed me, and my vision darkened at the periphery. Maybe if I passed out, I’d get the peace and quiet I deserved.

Swaying on my feet, Xander’s grip tightened, holding me steady. Damn him. I wanted to hate him. Lived for hating him. I didn’t want or need his support. Or the feeling of calm that began to wash over me as his presence anchored me.

“Take a shower.” His velvet voice snaked around me, held me enthralled. “Rest. I need you to be strong.” Xander’s eyes pinned me in place as I stared at his face. “For Anya and her unborn child. I’ll expect you at breakfast tomorrow morning. Dinner as well. There will be no more hiding as long as you reside under this roof. This is the last night I’ll entertain your desire for solitude.”

Of course. Manipulation was Xander’s forte. He wielded it like a sword. All he cared about was protecting Anya. And he’d say whatever he had to as long as it ensured I’d be primed and ready for the job. He didn’t give a shit about me or what I was going through. He cared only about what I could do for him. Silly, Darian, for thinking otherwise. “No worries, Xander.” I pulled away, took a deep, cleansing breath, and threw my shoulders back. “Your girl is as good as safe.” I walked past him, through the sitting room, toward the bathroom and faced him only when I was over the threshold and standing on the marble floor. “I’m going to take a shower. Get the fuck out.”

I slammed the bathroom door and t
urned the spray on full blast. I didn’t know if I could stand being alone, and I didn’t want to hear him leave.

Chapter 5

I
wished I couldn’t feel the approach of morning.

Rain pounded against the windowpanes with a gust of wind, but my skin tingled as the cloud-shrouded sun crested the horizon. I sensed the changing of the hour even though my room was dark as night. Thank god for heavy blackout drapes. No skylights, no uncovered windows. I might be able to sense the sunlight, but at least in my darkened room, I couldn’t actually see it. No bright reminder that another day had gone and come again. Another day without Tyler.

Half asleep, I twisted the silver ring on my left thumb, stopping when I felt the engraving. I caressed the image, knowing the bear’s shape though I couldn’t see it in the darkness. Only once I’d beheld Tyler in his animal form: a large golden bear, the bestial embodiment of his protection. He’d kept me safe then. Draped his hulking, furry body over mine and kept me warm. And he’d almost died protecting me. I didn’t deserve him. I’d never deserved him.

“Darian, are you awake?” Raif’s voice penetrated the door as well as the remaining dregs of sleep. I wondered if he or Xander, or both of them, spent the night with their ears pressed against the walls—listening.

I thought about answering, but really, it seemed like too much effort. Besides, I wanted to sneak in an Vin wa-1"other half hour of sleep. The idea of black oblivion appealed to me so much more than greeting another loathsome, lonely day. Maybe if I was very still . . .

“Darian!” Raif shouted this time, laying his fist to the door. The successive pounding reverberated through my chest, like a heavy bass drum. Damn him and his persistent nature.

“Jesus, I’m up!” I shouted back. Cordiality was never one of my strong suits. I left my body behind, and regained my physical form as I threw open the door. “A few rounds from an AK-47 would have been less annoying.”

Raif pushed his way into my room—I guess privacy was a concept lost on the royal family—and shoved a stack of thick manila folders into my arms. “Candidate files. Look over them and meet me for breakfast in thirty minutes. We’ve got a lot of work to do, and you won’t get anything accomplished lying in bed all day.”

He slammed the door behind him, and I listened as his footsteps grew quiet and, finally, faded.

* * *

I nodded an acknowledgment to a couple of Xander’s staff as I walked down the stairs, and tried not to complain out loud as I made my way toward the formal dining room. That didn’t mean I couldn’t bitch up a storm in my mind. I must’ve been crazy to agree to stay here. There was no way I’d be able to stomach the constant attention if it kept up at this rate. Everyone was so fucking worried I’d go off the deep end; I couldn’t even be allowed to sleep in for a measly half hour. I wanted to pick a fight. Bad.

Raif and Xander were already seated and eating when I walked into the dining room. Whatever. It didn’t bother me. It’s not like I expected them to sit and wait for me before they dug in. The food smelled too delicious for my empty stomach to ignore, but it didn’t improve my sour mood. I took a seat in one of the pristine Chippendale chairs across from Raif and as far from Xander as possible. Light from the chandelier above glinted off the crystal goblets and gleaming white and gold china setting. I wondered how long it took Xander’s kitchen staff to prepare for the many meals they served their king and whether or not he made them take their own meals in the kitchen. His house wasn’t a castle, but the opulence—not to mention abundant staff—was a reminder that I was, in fact, now living in a royal household. Before I could even put a napkin in my lap, a silver platter of food was displayed for my inspection. When I didn’t acknowledge her, the poor Shaede looked at her king expectantly and once he gave a nod of approval, began to dish the food onto my plate. She must’ve been waiting at the kitchen door, poised and ready for the moment I decided to sit my ass down, which made me feel a little guilty for showing up late.

“Good morning,” Raif said, a little too pleasant for me. “Did you sleep well?”

My response was a bitchy sort of grunt from deep in my throat.

“That well?” Raif asked. “I’d say if your glowing attitude is any indicator, today should be an absolute joy.”

I didn’t react to his needling. Instead, I focused my attention on the French toast, fresh fruit, and bacon. It wasn’t exactly a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, but it would do. I was so hungry, I was pretty sure I could eat my body weight in bacon. Head down, eyes on my plate, I ate in stoic silence. But in my peripheral vision, I couldn’t help but notice Xander. [ticp width="He’d set aside his fork, propped an elbow up on the arm of his chair and rested his chin on his fist. His eyes were hooded by lowered lashes, but I could tell he was watching me, just the same.

“Good gods, I see broody attitudes are contagious this morning,” Raif replied over the lip of his coffee cup. “Can’t anyone wake up on the right side of the bed?”

His comment went unanswered. I wished Xander would quit staring at me. It made me feel like I had something embarrassing on my face.

“As long as you’re going to be uncommunicative”—Raif indicated the stack of folders I’d set on the table next to me—“we might as well discuss the candidates for your team. Out of the nine candidates we’ve recommended, you need to narrow the selection to four.”

“Why four?” I didn’t look up to meet his face.

“Four is a lucky number. One team member to represent each of the cardinal directions. That way, you’ll always have someone at your back.”

“If there’s one member for each direction, what does that make me?”

“You are the center of the compass,” Xander answered. His voice was smooth, darker than usual with an undertone that gave me delicious chills.

Goddamn him.

“Are you sure you’re giving me a task force to help find who’s threatening Anya?” I paused to sip my coffee. I needed a caffeine boost. “Or are you having me choose my own babysitters?”

“Do you
need
babysitters?” Xander said in that same infuriating tone.

“No. I don’t.”

Xander sighed and clamped his jaw shut. I noticed the muscles working in his jaw as he ground his teeth together. He pushed his chair out from the table and threw his delicate linen napkin down before nailing me with an accusing glare. His purposeful stride as he all but stomped out of the dining room let me know that my mood had, in fact, rubbed off on him.

“What was that all about?” I looked from Xander’s now empty chair to Raif, who was watching the doorway as if he expected his brother to stomp back into the room.

Raif shrugged, but turned his attention to his own breakfast in a way that made me think he knew exactly what Xander’s pouty routine had been about. “I stacked the files in order.” He indicated the pile of folders. “Top recommendations first, and so on.”

I mopped up the last of the syrup with French toast and popped it in my mouth before pushing the plate away. Damn. I was still hungry. I really did need to take better care of myself. I slid the files in front of me, noting how neat and precise each one had been kept. No doubt to Raif’s standards. I wondered what he’d do if I spilled coffee on one of them. And I didn’t dare mention that I hadn’t bothered to look over any of the files yet. “All trained by you?” I asked as I opened the first file.

“For the most part.” The pride was unmistakable in Raif’s tone. “Though my brother made a suggestion or two. All are fine warriors.”

Of course they were. Raif would never settle for anything less. “By what criteria did you base your picks?”

“Skill in battl [kille foe, stealth, intelligence. I wouldn’t have you working with an unseasoned trainee or upstart who might be tempted to question your authority.”

Gee, thanks for your undying faith, Raif.
“Afraid your troops won’t take kindly to me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Raif’s face became the serious mask of the warrior that frightened so many. It was the expression I admired the most. “They know an order from you is as good as an order from me. But remember, Darian, there was a time when even you didn’t think twice about questioning me.”

True. I’d been a little full of myself the first time I’d met him. But it hadn’t taken long before he put me in my place. No one fucks with Raif. I flipped through the first file, and the second, and then the third. Each new candidate seemed as good as the last. How would I ever make a decision? “Maybe you were right about seeing these guys in action.” Not that I liked admitting it. “I’m not getting anywhere reading their stats. I might as well be looking at baseball cards.”

“I figured you might say that. They’re assembled in the gym.”

Always prepared. Raif was a goddamned Boy Scout. No need to sit around reading about his carefully handpicked troupe of Shaedes. Time to see the goods firsthand. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The gym was silent when we pushed open the double doors. The kind of silent when you know everyone was talking about you moments before. They may as well get an eyeful while they had the chance, because five of them were going to get the boot.

Like good little soldiers, Raif’s candidates lined up against the far wall, feet braced wide and hands clasped behind their backs. Expressions of inspired awe crossed their faces when he entered the gym, and I couldn’t help but smile. Raif was indeed inspiring on many levels. Identical in dress, the candidates would’ve put a battalion of Army Rangers to shame. Dark blue fatigues, long-sleeve, formfitting black knit shirts, and polished combat boots, Raif’s potential task force members showed up battle ready.

I cross-referenced each file’s picture with a face as I looked over the assembled warriors. Three women and six men waited for the honor to beat each other to a pulp only to prove they were worthy of Raif’s recommendation.

“Let’s get to it, then,” Raif said, eyeballing each Shaede individually. “Louella . . . and . . . Julian.” Raif jerked his thumb behind him. “Start us off with a decent sparring.”

“Hear that, Loulie?” The one called Julian elbowed a dark, feisty-looking girl in the ribs. “You get to be the first ass-whoopin’ of the day.”

She didn’t respond to her opponent, just walked, eyes facing front toward the mats. I liked her. Even before she caught Julian off guard with a low, sweeping kick to the ankles, I knew she’d be the first member of my team. Louella was shorter than me by a good four inches. Her petite build, coupled with wide, brown eyes and bronze skin made her look more like an innocent girl than a trained killer. But she put every inch of her body to good use and managed to pin her much larger male opponent to the mat in under a minute.

Julian lay still, catching his breath. Six feet tall and as fair and blond as Louella was dark, he watched her [ waontwalk back to the wall with a goofy smile plastered on his face. I had a feeling he enjoyed every second of the beating, and his good-natured attitude definitely earned him a spot at the top of my list.

Raif gave Julian a hard, appraising stare as he hauled himself upright. “You went a full ten minutes before she bested you last week.”

The cocky smile quickly vanished from Julian’s face, and he bowed his head. When he looked up, Raif jerked his chin toward the back wall, and Julian retreated like a scalded dog. Raif never had to say much to get a reaction and no one wanted to disappoint him. And when you did, well, the disappointment was far worse than any punishment he could ever dish out.

A tall, lanky redhead stepped forward, and I flipped through the files until I found the right one. Myles Caffray. He didn’t really look like a Myles. Taller than Julian, his green eyes glowed against ivory skin. His freckles made him look unassuming and almost boyish, but something about the catlike slant to his eyes made me think twice about my first impression. Without being asked, he stepped onto the mat, feet braced and standing at ease. Apparently, he wanted to go next and wouldn’t wait around for an invitation from Raif.
Nice.

“Fine,” Raif said to no one in particular, but the annoyance seeped through his tone. “You’re so eager—you can go up against Liam.”

Liam stepped forward, a big, scary son of a bitch. He looked older than the rest, or, at the very least, more battle hardened. Blue tattoos chased a swirling pattern on his bald head, running down his neck and disappearing beneath his shirt. Both of his ears were gauged with large black plugs that only accentuated the aura of brutality that surrounded him. I had a feeling he could break Myles in half if he wanted to. And from the expression on his face—he wanted to.

“Weapons?” Liam asked, his voice like gravel in a cement mixer.

Raif inclined his head. “But remember, this is a training exercise only. Nothing more than an exhibition.”

I have to say, Liam looked a little put out. He walked to the back wall of the gym, perusing the weapons like he was a suburbanite window-shopper. If I hadn’t had the emerald key to
O Anel
hanging around my neck, the sound of seconds ticking away while he made his selection would have driven me insane. He finally settled on a wooden
bokken,
which he tossed to Myles, and then he simply walked to the mat. Unarmed.

“Really, Liam?” Myles asked, giving the wooden version of a samurai sword a couple of practice swings.

“I figure you can use all the help you can get,” Liam answered, cracking each of his knuckles.