Darkest Caress (2 page)

Daegan sighed and leaned his head back against the leather. His body was edgy, restless. Aching. And it was going to get much, much worse before the night was over. “I told her I’d call her tomorrow. I’ll put in an offer in the morning.” He was looking forward to that about as much as sticking a knife into his eye. But he had no choice. This was how it was meant to be, no matter how much he rebelled against that reality.

Cade frowned. “Nice attitude. Somebody put a dent in your Porsche on the way back or something?”

“Nope.” He took another sip of his drink, wanting to be alone.

Never one to pick up on subtle cues, Cade sat in the chair across from him, resting his thick forearms on his thighs. “Then what’s up?”

Daegan slanted him an irritated look, swirling the ice around in his glass. “The woman.”

His cousin leaned back with a big shit-eating grin on his face. “You hit on her and she turned you down?”

“No,” he growled, fighting back the knot tightening around his lungs. He stared out at the ocean, envying its serenity. Starting now, his life was going to be in turmoil for the foreseeable future. All their lives were. “She’s my mate.” He almost strangled on the word.

Cade’s jaw fell open. His eyes bulged. Daegan might have laughed at the stunned look on his cousin’s face if there’d been any humor in the situation. “You’re
shitting
me.”

“Wish I was.” God, did he ever. This was the last thing he needed. The last thing
they
needed. He took another bracing swallow of scotch, but the burn did nothing to mellow him out. At least now he knew why the pull to settle them in Vancouver had been so strong. A little warning would’ve been nice, though.

A shocked silence spread between them, the tension rising higher and higher in Daegan’s gut while he waited for his cousin to say something.

“Did you foresee this?” Cade asked finally.

Daegan snorted. “Nope.” And wasn’t that ironic? He swallowed a bitter laugh with his next sip of scotch.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing.” That bothered him too. He’d never expected this. Not to meet her, and certainly not for the predicament that came with her. “She doesn’t know anything.”

Cade gaped for a moment longer, then ran a hand over the back of his neck. As though he was the one wanting to crawl out of his skin to ease the emotions tearing through him. “Shit, man, are you sure she’s…you know.”

Daegan aimed a baleful glare at him. “Yeah, I’m sure.” It wasn’t something an Empowered male could miss. Being struck by a hormonal lightning bolt tended to get a man’s attention. “For Christ’s sake, Cade, look at me.” He gestured to himself, his body already strung taut as a tripwire, every muscle quivering with sexual tension. Already a goddamn mess, fighting to hold it together. And it had only been two hours since he’d laid eyes on her.

“But the prophecy states—”

“I know what it says,” he snapped.
The three shall become six, and together with The Lost they shall battle the Obsidian Lord for the fate of mankind.

Whatever the fuck that really meant.

Cade watched him for a full minute, his expression full of alarm. “But it can’t mean we’re all gonna be mated.” He sounded horrified, like the idea of it was worse than death. For Cade, it probably was. “What about Vaughn?”

“I don’t know.” None of it made any sense, because Vaughn would never mate again. Couldn’t. But even if he could have, why would they meet their mates now, when the war was about to start anew? The premonitions had shown him that much at least. The Obsidian Lord was out there somewhere. Biding his time before he struck.

“Want more of that?” Cade finally asked, gesturing to the near empty glass.

“Yeah.” While his cousin went inside to get the bottle, and probably a glass for himself, Daegan gazed out at the water, wondering what the hell to do. It was all so incredible he could only shake his head.

After almost two centuries he’d finally come face to face with his mate, and she hadn’t even recognized him. Not only that, but she obviously didn’t have a clue what she was. What they were, and what was coming.

Or that she held the power to destroy them all.

The knowledge made the protective male in him roar to life, filling him up in a violent surge that took his breath away. His hand shook when he raised the glass and drained it. As the liquor burned down his throat, he prayed for numbness. Shit, it was starting already. The bonding need. His heart pounded out of control from the hormones flooding his bloodstream and he could feel his eyes getting brighter. Then brighter yet, glowing until they practically lit up the darkness like pale blue lasers. His muscles trembled with the need to find her, claim her, bind her to him.

His cock went rigid as an image of her slammed into his brain. Olivia’s bright hazel-green eyes gazing up at him, filled with raw need as he pressed her down into the bed in that stone mansion’s master suite. His hands wound into her deep caramel waves. Her naked, curvy body writhed beneath him, raising his need to a fever pitch. Her elegant hands clutched at his shoulders, her slender fingers digging into his muscles. That soft pink mouth opened in a cry of raw ecstasy as he plunged into her warmth.

The sliding glass door opened again. Daegan looked over at Cade as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

“Jesus,” Cade muttered, hurrying over to snatch the glass from him.

With a start, Daegan realized he’d squeezed the tumbler so hard he’d cracked it. The fracture lines spread out across the surface, catching and reflecting the unearthly blue glow of his eyes.

His cousin set it down on the granite-topped table beside them and gave him a worried look. “Do you, uh…want another one?”

Squeezing his hands into fists, Daegan closed his eyes and leaned back into the leather, fighting the urgent need enveloping him. He didn’t want anyone seeing him this way. He was the leader, the strongest of them. Had to lead by example.

But even he couldn’t fight biology.

“Just leave the bottle and go,” he rasped.

A soft clink came as Cade set the bottle on the table. “Do you need anything?”

As a doctor, Cade had access to all kinds of meds, but nothing short of unconsciousness would help stop the Heat Cycle. Daegen wasn’t that far gone. Yet. “No.”

“I’ll have my cell on if you need me.”

Daegan nodded without opening his eyes, fighting to get control of his body and slow his breathing as Cade left. His skin felt too tight, like it might split apart from the heat and pressure inside him. Tonight marked the first of his descent into hell, but his cousin couldn’t help him now. Only one person could, and she was completely unaware of what was about to hit her.

Barcelona, Spain

Xavier stared out the window of his hotel penthouse suite at the sparkling Med below. The endless expanse of blue was as rich as sapphires under the July sun, rolling gently against the ribbon of sandy beach. The sea was a living, breathing thing, full of endless power. He could practically feel the rhythm of the tide pulsing in his veins, filling his aging muscles with strength.

As always, the pull of Neringa’s ancient magic was strong for him. Sometimes when he walked the shore he thought he heard her speaking to him in the old language, whispering above the sighing of the waves. Trying to call him back.

But for him there was no going back.

A knock at the door signaled his lunch had arrived. He crossed the room and unlocked the deadbolt before opening the door. A fiftyish woman stood there in her black and white uniform, her head downcast so she didn’t have to meet his eyes. After two weeks here, very few of the staff were brave enough to make eye contact with him. But he sensed something more in her than wariness. A lingering sadness in the droop of her shoulders.

He stepped aside to let her push the trolley bearing his meal inside, and as she passed him he caught the first raw surge of pain radiating from her. There was unease, too, but pain overpowered it. Loss. He could smell it now, an acrid sting in his nostrils. She’d lost someone close to her. Someone she’d loved with all her heart. His gaze fastened on her hungrily, his lungs expanding as his body prepared to absorb the powerful emotion.

Setting the trolley next to the dining table, the woman dared a quick glance up at his face and bobbed a curtsey. Despite himself, his heart lurched. Her skin was pale, her dark eyes holding the source of pain he wanted to drink from so badly. He needed it more than he needed the food she’d brought. But those eyes. They pierced the shell protecting the remnants of his blackened, withered soul.

With effort he clenched his jaw and turned away, blocking the intense impulse to feed. She reminded him too much of Marie. He couldn’t look at her, hated his body’s need to gorge on her pain. He trembled as the door closed softly behind her, his body battling for control as he let the memories of his dead mate wash over him. They raked at him with sharp claws, the jagged remains of his life that fuelled his existence and forged him into the empty thing he’d become. Into the monster he soon would be.

His phone vibrated against his hip, bringing him back to the present. “Diga.”

“I think I’ve found a lead,” a male voice said in English, his strong New York accent flavoring the words.

Xavier’s hand tightened around the phone, a spark of excitement flashing through him. “What kind of lead?”

“It took some digging, but I found documents showing this British soldier that emigrated to Boston eleven years ago.”

He frowned. “And?”

“Well the date of birth is weird,” the man went on. “It has to be a mistake, because it lists him being born in eighteen-ten, and that would mean he went to Boston when he was over a hundred and seventy years old, which is impossible.”

Not necessarily, Xavier thought, fighting the hum of anticipation buzzing through his veins. “Go on.”

“I assume the date of birth should read nineteen-ten, which would make it possible for him to have served during the war, so I kept digging like you told me.”

This had better be good. They all knew better than to waste his time. The stark consequences ensured that. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. The guy crossed into Canada six months ago. Even with the date correction, he’d still be over a hundred years old. I find that very unlikely.”

Xavier’s heart quickened. This could potentially be the first solid lead he’d found about the Empowered in decades. “Where did he cross?”

“Near Vancouver.”

Something inside him stilled. The jewel of a city was nestled right against the ocean. A necessary source of strength for their kind when they settled in any place for longer than a few months. “What’s his name?”

“Daegan Blackwell. Sound familiar?”

No, but it didn’t matter. “Send me everything you can find on him.”

“That’s just it, sir, there’s nothing. And I mean
nothing
. It’s like he vanished into thin air the moment he crossed the Canadian border.”

Is that so
. A slow smile pulled at Xavier’s mouth. If he was an Empowered, the man could easily have wiped the mortals’ memories clean. “Did he cross alone?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t find anything more.”

“Get some people over there and find him. Report anything you find to me immediately.” He injected a hard edge into the command, so there would be no mistaking the consequences for failure.

“Yes, sir.” His voice held a distinct note of apprehension.

He felt it, Xavier realized with a start. Even an ocean away, through the phone connection he could actually
feel
the man’s unease. The ravenous hunger inside him begged for the sustenance.

On the other end of the line the man kept babbling, but Xavier didn’t hear a word, focused solely on the palpable fear in his voice. The complex emotions layered within it entranced him. He closed his eyes, letting the thread of apprehension slide into him, readily absorbing it into his cells.

A euphoric haze filled his brain, his skin tingling as he fed off the new power source. He could feel his cells expand, swell throughout his body. Warmth flowed through his veins. His organs filled with it, his shriveled muscles grew.

He barely heard the thud on the other end of the phone as the man lost consciousness and dropped to the floor. If Xavier didn’t stop, the man would die. He didn’t even try to fight the endless thirst that plagued him. The need for more power drove him, his body greedily sucking the energy from its victim. When he’d extracted every last drop possible, Xavier inhaled deeply then disconnected. His hand was completely steady as he slipped the phone back into his pocket and drew a slow, deep breath to calm his racing heart. Fresh power tingled, surging inside him. He felt stronger than ever before. Like he was twenty-five years old all over again. Damn near invincible.

His eyes. He had to check his eyes.

Rushing into the marble bathroom, he half expected them to light up the darkness. They didn’t, so he flipped on the light and peered at his reflection. A shiver of anticipation sped through his muscles. His once dark brown eyes were nearly yellow in his pale, withered face, with only a trace of hazel remaining around the pupils. Soon they’d turn completely citrine. Then the final transformation would complete itself.

So close, he mused as he stroked two bony fingers over his sunken cheeks. He barely looked human anymore, but now his physical form was beginning to mirror the shattered soul within. A mirage. Physically he was more powerful than he’d ever been in his over three-hundred-year existence. His outward appearance was merely an advantage. No one would guess what he was capable of in a body that looked like a seventy-five-year-old man’s.

Not long now. The hardest part was behind him. Fueling and pushing him with relentless force toward his destiny.

His lips stretched in an awed smile, the unearthly gleam in his eyes sending a shiver of excitement up his spine. Almost seventy years he’d waited. An average human lifespan spent in a hellish state of limbo, focusing and channeling his rage until he could fully claim the title of Obsidian Lord. His Dark Army grew every day. His soldiers were ready. Soon he would be too.

Then he’d end this once and for all.

* * *

Liv jerked awake when her phone rang on her nightstand. She sat up and grabbed it, dragging a hand through her mussed hair to check the clock. The glowing blue numbers read eight minutes after seven. Who the hell would call her at this time of the morning? Catherine wasn’t due here until eight and wouldn’t dream of calling this early unless something was wrong. She frowned at the unfamiliar number on the call display.

“Olivia Farrell.” Her voice was hoarse from sleep.

“Hey. Is the estate on the bluff still available?” a strangely familiar male voice demanded.

The sharp tone jolted her. Ignoring his rudeness, she fought back the fog in her brain and tried to figure out what he was talking about. “You mean the one on—”

“The stone mansion overlooking the ocean. It isn’t even listed yet, but I understand it’s been shown already.”

She had no idea how he knew that. None of her coworkers even knew about it. Maybe he’d asked around and one of the neighbors had seen her there last night. “Who is this?”

A startled pause met her words. “It’s Aaron Moore.”

Her stomach seized. She shouldn’t have answered her damn phone.

When she didn’t respond he huffed out an impatient breath. “Melissa’s father. I picked her up from her lesson last night.” He sounded offended that she hadn’t recognized his voice.

“Yeah. Hi.” The man gave her the creeps, and she didn’t blame his ex for wanting to be rid of him. In past encounters he’d made no effort to stop himself from being inappropriate or conceal the way he stripped her with his eyes. There was something cold about them. Cruel. And the calculating gleam in his gaze set off alarm bells every time she caught him staring at her.

When she’d first met him he’d stayed for the first ten minutes or so of each lesson, managing to make her uncomfortable in her own home with that same predatory air. He’d even come right out and hit on her a couple of times, despite the way she shut him down. The man had all the makings of a deviant.

After that she’d watched his interactions with Melissa carefully, wondering if his disturbing sexual vibe was in any way directed toward his daughter. Liv had even checked with the child’s mother, but as far as she could tell everything was okay on that front. She didn’t like Aaron, simple as that, and trusted him even less. That monster headache after seeing him last night merely proved he was toxic to her health.

“It’s still available,” she told him reluctantly. “Why?”

“I want to see it tonight.”

“Why do you want to see
that
property?” He might be well off, but there was no way he had that kind of money available to him.

“It’s not for me, it’s for the CEO of my company,” he said with a hint of annoyance. Tempered, she knew, since he’d been pissed off by her rudeness last night. “He’s in Tokyo right now, but when I told him it might be for sale he asked me to look at it personally for him. He’s very interested.”

She didn’t believe him for a second, yet she couldn’t discount him entirely. Was this some lame attempt to get her alone with him? “I may have someone putting in an offer today.” It was stretching the truth, but she wanted to put him off. She’d told him to his face never to come to her house again, been flat out rude to drive her point home, and still he’d shown up last night. Now this weird phone call.

“I’ll be there at six sharp.”

His high-handedness was starting to piss her off, but she managed to keep her tone civil. Showing him the property with another agent there as backup would be safe enough. Besides, Mr. Blackwell—Daegan—she mentally corrected, hadn’t exactly seemed in love with the place last night, and she might never hear from him again. “Fine. Six o’clock.” But no way in hell would she meet him alone. The man made her skin crawl.

“I’ll see you then.”

Liv tossed her phone to the foot of her bed with a disgusted snort and flopped back against her pillows. Talk about offensive. Phoning her that early in the morning and then having the gall to speak to her like she was some sort of servant? And after she’d spent most of the night tossing and turning from weird dreams too. Disturbing ones featuring the sexy prospective buyer she’d taken through the mansion.

Probably because she’d spent over an hour before bed researching him on the Internet. All she’d found was his name listed as the CEO of Trident Group, some mysterious company she hadn’t been able to learn much about. No pictures of Daegan anywhere, just some information on Trident Group’s holdings and charitable donations to places like children’s hospitals and orphanages. Whatever Daegan did for a living, he was a generous philanthropist. Unfortunately that only attracted her more.

At least her headache was pretty much gone, she thought with a sigh. Only a vague tension remained in her neck and temples, no doubt brought on by the idea of having to see Aaron later on. Damn, she was tired.

She frowned and rubbed at her nape, trying to remember what the dreams had been about. Erotic flashes came back to her. Nebulous images of Daegan looming above her on a wide sleigh bed draped in dark satin sheets. His naked body poised above hers, large hands pinning her wrists above her head as he pushed his rock-hard erection into her.

Let me ease you.
His deep voice was as clear in her head as if he’d actually spoken to her.

Without warning an intense rush of heat pooled between her thighs, making her sex throb. She gasped and rolled to her side to try to push the images away, but the ache didn’t ease. Every inch of her skin tingled. Her breasts felt swollen and sensitive, the nipples hard and tight. All in response to that seductive, Irish-tinged voice in her head. What the hell was happening?

Liv threw the light cotton sheet off her body in annoyance. She hadn’t been single
that
long, but for some reason her body was suddenly desperate for sex. A cool shower was definitely in order.

When she threw her legs over the side of the bed, her ringtone went off again.

Seriously?
She grabbed her phone and glared at the display, expecting to see Aaron’s number come up. It wasn’t his. For a second she thought about not answering it, but then sighed and took the call. “Hello?”

“Olivia, it’s Daegan Blackwell.”

Her heart did a slow roll in her chest. His low voice slid over her sensitized skin like a caress, making the throb between her legs worse. She pressed her thighs together to stem the relentless ache and drew her knees up, fighting to ignore her need for relief. “Good morning.”