Darkness Arisen (5 page)

"Alice," Ian rasped out, his voice raw with agony.

She turned quickly to see him on his hands and knees in the water. His head was bent, hanging toward the ground, and his muscles were flexed, as if he were in great pain. His hair was drenched flat against his head, showcasing the angular lines of his skull.

Her heart tightened, and she had to force herself not to run to him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Of course." He suddenly lurched to his feet, staggering as if it had taken supreme effort to pull himself upright. He faced her and stripped off his tee shirt, still swaying as he fought a battle she couldn't see. With a muttered curse, he thrust the shirt toward her. "Put this on," he ordered her. "Now."

For a split second, she was too shocked by the sight of him to respond. In the water, she'd been fighting for her life, almost dead, desperate to breathe. She hadn't had time to notice him, to really see him, but now... Dear God...to call him a specimen wouldn't even begin to do him justice.

Stripped bare to the waist, the strength of his frame was undeniable. He was so chiseled it was as if a sculptor had carved every muscle in great detail. Unlike Ry and the other male, Ian wasn't a bulky mass of muscle. He was wiry and cut, making every curve of each muscle strain against his skin. His shoulders were broad, but he was so fit he seemed to be only bone and steel cords of muscle. A smattering of hair across his chest, and an eight-pack of abs across his stomach were untamed male perfection. Desire leapt through her, hot, throbbing need for the man walking toward her. She swallowed, her pulse pounding in her throat as she watched him approach, each step he took making her body clench in anticipation.

He reached her, and for a long moment, neither of them moved. All she could do was stare into the brown eyes that had haunted her all those days she'd been in demon hands. She'd been so confused, in so much pain, that her mind had barely been able to process what was going on. All she knew was that those intense eyes had provided comfort and strength, that they made her feel like she had hope. How often had she clung to that image in her mind, summoning it to survive one more day? She hadn't seen his face or heard his voice. She'd just seen his eyes.

She'd thought she'd imagined him. She'd thought he was a figment of her imagination, created as a self-preservation tool to survive. But here he stood before her, a thousand times more powerful than he'd been in her mind. "You're real." She couldn't keep the awe out of her voice, and she couldn't stop herself from brushing her finger over his jaw. His skin was rough from the whiskers, but it was the warm, living flesh of a real man standing before her.

"Yeah." He didn't flinch, a statue allowing her to touch him however she wanted. But raw emotion pulsed in his eyes. Desire. Lust. And a male possessiveness so unyielding that her belly clenched in response. "You really don't remember me?"

She laid her palm on his chest, and he sucked in his breath. He slammed his hand over hers, pinning it against him.

"Bits and pieces are coming back," she admitted, her heart starting to race at the way he was invading her space. Heat flamed on her cheeks as a memory of him pinning her up against a wall flashed in her mind. The coldness of the plaster wall against her shoulders and back, the dark lighting of the rear hall of Deliverance, the bar she used to work at, the pulsing heat of his lean hips between her bare thighs...

Sudden heat pulsed through her belly, and she swallowed, embarrassed by the images flashing through her mind. The hot dampness of his mouth on her breasts. The raw strength of his body as he'd driven into her again, and again. The ache in her soul as he'd stripped aside her defenses...

Oh...wow...she hoped that hadn't really happened. For so many reasons. On so many levels. She was always half-insane when she came back to life, and it was always hard to figure out what she'd imagined and what was real. The images of the passionate love-fest between her and Ian had to be her imagination. It
had
to be...but as she felt the thud of his heart beneath her palm, all she could think of was that she also wanted it to have been real. Crap! This was not good. Quickly, she cleared her throat and tried to pull her hand away.

He didn't let her. Instead, his fingers curled around hers, gripping her more tightly, making her pulse jump. "No," he said, his voice raw. "Don't withdraw. Not yet." A sudden chill rippled through Alice as droplets of water beaded down his temples. His pupils were dilated, and his skin was deadly cold. "Tell me you remember me," he whispered urgently. "Even if it's a lie."

Alice swallowed, her heart beginning to pound. Something was wrong with him. So terribly wrong. His skin was too cold. His eyes too tormented. What was wrong? She wanted to help him, even though she didn't understand why.

But she couldn't lie to him. She wasn't capable of it. Not even to help the man who had just saved her life. Not even if he was dying right in front of her.
Oh, no.
What if he was dying? Sudden terror coursed through her and she yanked her hand back, stumbling away from him. "Are you dying? Please, don't tell me you're dying." She couldn't go through that again. Not again. Not with someone who had just saved her life.

Ian fisted his hands and stared at her. His eyes were hooded with agony. "I'm not going to die," he said roughly, "but it would be incredibly helpful of you to at least pretend that my lovemaking was so earth-shattering that you haven't been able to think of anything else since."

"I have moments where I have flashes of it," she admitted, still backing away from him, needing to put distance between them. "But I'm not sure what really happened and what didn't."

"Moments? Flashes?" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if he were summoning intense inner strength to fight off a demon she couldn't see. "That's it? That's all you've got?"

His words were light, a quip, but Alice felt the depth of torment beneath the surface. Something was terribly wrong. Why did he need her to remember? Quickly, she tried to explain. "When I die, I lose many of my short-term memories, or they come back only as fragments. The fact I remembered you at all is something that shouldn't have happened—" She realized suddenly that she'd just revealed too much about herself. Oh, God. What was he doing to her? Making her break rules left and right? Suddenly scared of how dangerous he was to her, she tightened her grip on the pearl, comforted by the fact she still had it as her protection. "I mean—"

"I know you die and come back," Ian interrupted. "You don't need to hide it." He held his shirt toward her again and this time there was no mistaking the blazing heat in his eyes. "But I'm glad to know that our lovemaking was so significant that you recall it at least on some level, even though you shouldn't have been able to. Clearly, I really did blow your mind." And just like that, his torment seemed to disappear, swallowed up by the sheer force of his will, shoved back into whatever dungeon he kept it in, as if the mere acknowledgment that he had affected her had given him some sense of peace. "Put this on, Alice."

She stared at his tee shirt, still dripping with ocean water. "What? Why?" She didn't understand this man. Not her response to him, not his response to her, and now? His shirt? "Are you trying to claim me like some teenage couple? Wear my letter jacket and we'll be going steady?"

He cocked his eyebrow. "No, but if that would work, I'd go back to high school and join the football team. It'd be easier than dealing with you cutting me off all the time."

She blinked at his haunted tone. Was he really affected by her trying to put space between them? "Then why do you want me to wear your shirt?"

"Because," he said, his voice low with desire so intense that it vibrated through her, "as absolutely breathtaking as your naked body is, and as much as I want to haul you into my arms and run my hands over every inch of it, the fact that there are two other men watching you is not something that I'm going to handle well in about thirty seconds."

Alice's stomach dropped at his possessiveness, and fear pulsed more strongly through her. Fear not just of the way he was behaving, but also of the fact that a part of her seemed to preen and bask at his claim on her. Using any excuse to break from his stare, she glanced over his shoulder at the other men, the ones she'd forgotten about completely the moment she'd seen Ian rise out of the water like the god of the sea himself.

Both Ry and the other man were still watching her. They didn't seem to be checking out her body. They were watching her face, and their feet were braced in a battle stance. Warriors who were waiting for something to happen, who were primed to leap into action. What were they expecting? What did they all know that she didn't?

Ry nodded once, his eyes turbulent with evil and darkness. "He's right, my lady," he said, his voice far more deferential than she would ever have expected from a man who carried such a dark presence. "You being naked is going to be a major problem very quickly. Ian's a little unstable these days, I'm no ball of sunshine, and we don't have time to get in a brawl."

She glanced back at Ian, and was startled to see that he wasn't denying Ry's comment. "He's right, Alice. I'm a fucking mess these days. Humor me." Violence began to swirl around her, and it was coming right from Ian. "Now, Alice," he said. "Just do it."

His eyes had darkened to a possessive dark brown that made chills run down her spine. She couldn't belong to him. That would destroy everything. "No," she protested, taking another step back, trying desperately to take back her space. "I have my own clothes. I'll put those on." She turned to head toward the beach, but Ian caught her arm, stepping in front of her so he blocked both her own path and the view of the other men.

"I know where your clothes are," he said, his voice low and rough, as if he were fighting to contain himself. "I saw them when I got here. If you go get them, you will be walking right toward Ry and Vaughn with every inch of your unbelievable body exposed." His grip tightened on her arm and he bent his head so his breath was warm against the side of her neck, sending shivers shooting down her spine. "Don't do that," he whispered. "It's not a good idea. I won't respond well to that trigger. I'm not having the best day, and I need a little bit of help on this one, sweetheart."

She stared at him, her instincts screaming at her to pull away, to declare her independence, to make sure the world understood she didn't belong to him. But when she looked into his eyes and saw the depth of pain in his expression, her protest died in her throat. She'd heard enough about the intensity of Calydon males, and the Order of the Blade warriors were more intense than others. She had no idea why she was apparently a catalyst for Ian, but she didn't have time to deal with the repercussions. She had one mission, and it wasn't to break up a fight among men, or to be naked in front of Ian Fitzgerald any longer. "I'm not your woman," she said, as softly as he had, words just for him. "But I don't have time for some territorial battle between oversexed males. Hand me the damned shirt."

A slow grin spread across his features as he realized she wasn't going to resist any longer. "Female nudity has that effect on me. I appreciate the accommodation."

In a teasing manner completely uncharacteristic of her, Alice raised her brows as she took the wet shirt from him. "All naked women?"

His face darkened and he moved closer, until his bare chest was less than a breath from her breasts, forcing her to crane her neck to see his face. "No, Alice," he said. "Just you."

"Oh." The word came out in a breathless whisper, and she felt a disconcerting sense of satisfaction pulse through her. Why did she care whether Ian noticed other naked women? She didn't even know the man. And the lovemaking incident that was floating in her mind, in and out of focus? It had to be a fantasy created because he was so hot. Seriously. She couldn't
really
have done that, right? Wanton sex with a stranger in a back hall at a bar was so not her style. Ever. "Get away from me." Careful not to drop the pearl, she yanked the sodden fabric out of his hand and jerked it over her head, not as an accommodation to him, but because she knew all too well the damage that these males could cause. If someone died because of her today, she would be helpless to save them, and that was not a memory she wanted to dredge up from her past.

The wet cotton was heavy against her skin, and the shirt came all the way to her mid-thigh. Ian nodded with evident satisfaction. "My shirt belongs on you."

"No, it doesn't." She set her fists on her hips, trying not to notice the scent of cinnamon and male emanating from the shirt that was clinging to her body. "It's a covering, Ian. Nothing else."

He moved quickly then, so quickly that she jumped in nervousness. He grabbed her wrist and flipped her arm over so her forearm was exposed. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. "How is it possible there's nothing there? How are you able to resist me?"

Alice pulled her arm away, needing her space. "What are you talking about?" Something nagged at the back of her mind, as if she knew what he meant, but couldn’t quite remember.

"You're my
sheva.
"

She frowned at him. "
Sheva?
What's that?"

"It means soul mate."

She blinked, and then shook her head frantically. "Oh, no, no, no. I'm not your soul mate—"

"Stop arguing with me for one damn minute." Ian scowled and took a deep breath, as if he were trying to summon intense inner control. "Since you're my soul mate, as we complete the stages of the
sheva
bond, my brand will begin to appear on your arm. There are five stages, and each one makes the brand more complete. The stages are sex, which we did."

She cleared her throat. "Well, I don't know about that—"

"And trust, where each of us trusts the other with our darkest secret or give the other the power to kill us. There's also death, where we risk our lives to save the other. Transference occurs when you develop the ability to call my weapon. Blood-bonding is another stage which brings us together. They can be done in any order, but with the completion of final stage, our bond and our fates are sealed."