Darkness Surrendered (Primal Heat Trilogy #3) (Order of the Blade) (34 page)

Ana touched his arm as she walked by, but he didn’t respond to the touch, so she dropped her hand.

The ceilings were high, the hall wide, the floors highly polished black slate.

Elijah shut the door behind her. As she walked down the hall, she was saddened by the sounds of her soul mate resetting all the locks and alarms, wishing he didn’t have to live like that.

The hallway opened into a huge great room, with a modern stainless steel kitchen that looked like it had never been used and a family room with huge leather couches and a flat screen TV on the wall. A gorgeous stone fireplace took up most of another wall, and the sheer glass coffee table was polished to such a sheen there wasn’t even a speck of dust on it. A thick white carpet covered the family room floor, abutting the beautiful tile floors.

A huge painting of a nature scene covered the other wall. It had an antique gold frame that looked incredibly old and valuable, as did the sofa table beneath it. A mixture of modern and old, all of it high quality and flawless beauty.

His condo was lovely, a place of impeccable taste and wealth. He’d tried to create a place of perfection and ultimate decor, a home so impeccable that it would feel like an oasis instead of the prison it really was.

Ana thought of her comfortable Victorian house in the suburbs that she had shared with her sister before they’d taken up temporary residence in Dante’s mansion. Her home had huge windows, doors that never quite locked securely, and uneven floors that creaked at night.

There was so much history in her house, she could almost feel the laughter, tears and love from those who had lived there before her. She’d even discovered that the back wall of her bedroom closet had apparently served as a canvas for a young child’s crayon art, and she’d left the gallery untouched. The house was full of life and imperfection, and she loved every inch of it. With the huge back yard and so many neighbors, she’d had visions of the home someday housing the boisterous, loving, enormous family that she’d never had.

There were no hopes and dreams like that in Elijah’s condo. The only dream that this place spoke of was a prayer of waking up in the morning and finding that the locks and walls had kept the demons away for one more night.

Elijah moved up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders, rubbing gently. “No one ever comes here,” he said. “It feels weird to have someone else in my space.”

Ana leaned back against him, wishing that she could somehow wave a magic wand and release Elijah from the grip of his past. “Did you design this place yourself?”

“Yeah.”

Of course he had. There were huge windows lining one side of the room, and the kitchen table was practically up against the glass, as if he yearned for the freedom of fresh air and open spaces, but didn’t dare step outside the fortress he’d erected. Did he yearn for another life as much as she did? “You have so many windows here. The view is amazing.”

“Yeah, I know. It looks amazing at night when you see the lights from the city. It’s like heaven’s stars are blinking below you, ready to catch you if you fall.”

“The stars.” Her throat tightened for the beautiful words of a man who had dreams so beyond a life of a warrior. She walked over to a window and peered out. The cars were but specks on the street. They were so far up that no one would be able to get in the windows. Total security with the illusion of freedom and endless miles of room to run, locked down behind walls he could never get through.

Her big, tough Calydon warrior lived in fear. Not of bad guys or rogue Calydons, or even Ezekiel. For a long time, before he’d gone over the edge so recently, he’d clearly lived in fear of himself, of the demons that had been chasing him for so long. Her throat tightened as she rested her forehead against the thick panes of glass. “Is this bulletproof?”

“Yeah. And then some.”

She palmed the cool glass. It was hard and unforgiving against her hand. Nearly invisible, and yet far more impenetrable than even the hardest steel. “It would be extremely difficult to kill you with bullets.”

“I know.”

But he’d had it installed anyway. Forty-two stories up, and he’d installed glass that would keep out the world.

She thought of the fishing shack Dante had owned. A little building in the woods. No security or even doors. Just a mattress and a woodstove and a doorway in the front to allow access. Dante hadn’t been afraid of anything. Why should he have been? Nothing would have been enough to kill him.

Except her and Nate.

Elijah hadn’t moved to follow her. “You don’t like it.” He sounded restless, unsure of himself. Uncomfortable.

Ana turned to look at him. His shoulders were so wide, taking up such space even in the vast room. His jaw was covered in dark whiskers, and there was blood covering his clothes, though his body was fully healed. His feet were braced, and his hands were fisted at his sides, a warrior ready to spring. He wasn’t relaxed even in his own house, with protections everywhere.

There was a vulnerability in his eyes that surprised her, as if he was suddenly realizing how much of himself was revealed in his home. “No one ever comes here?”

He shook his head. “I like my privacy.”

“You like your secrets.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “What does that mean?”

Ana walked across the room to him and slid her arms around his waist, his body rigid and stiff against her. Even in this refuge he’d created for himself, he couldn’t relax. She sighed and rested her cheek against his chest. “It means,” she said, “I appreciate that you brought me here. I like it. It’s you, and that makes me feel good.”

His body relaxed slightly, and his hands went to her waist, finally accepting her presence in his home. “Okay, then.”

She was touched by the fact that Elijah had trusted her enough to bring her here, that he’d broken his rule of no visitors for her. This was his sanctuary, and he’d invited her in. She wondered what he would think of her home, of its imperfect, unsecure chaos. Would he see it as beautiful like she did?

Elijah kissed the top of her head, and Ana raised her face to his, expecting him to kiss her, but all he did was squeeze her waist and drop his hands. “Come on.” He headed across the room, leaving her to follow.

Well, okay then. Ana cleared her throat, willing away the sense of loss at his abrupt departure after the moment she’d thought was so intimate. He was tense and edgy, which she supposed was to be expected, given everything that was going on, but still. She’d gotten used to the constant touching, his need for her, and she missed it. She liked being needed by him. Quite honestly, no one had ever needed much from her before, and it was a good feeling.

But he didn’t need to touch her anymore, and he had stopped. Was all that physical intimacy between them gone, now that he wasn’t forced to touch her? Isolation rippled through her, and she feared she had begun to rely too much on their physical connection. She’d long ago stopped thinking of it as a requirement for his sanity. Instead, it had simply become natural, the way she wanted it to be when touching him.

Was that all gone? Had it all been an illusion?

Elijah paused at another doorway, waiting for her. “You coming?”

“Yes.” She straightened her shoulders and crossed the floor, her sneaker squeaking on the clean tile, while her cast made the familiar thumping noises. “Do you even have a cleaning person?”

“No. I don’t let anyone in here. Ever.” His gaze grew hooded. “Except you.”

Her heart started to race at the sudden heat in his eyes, and suddenly the distance between them seemed to disappear, sucked away by a connection so intense it leapt across the divide between them.

“In here.” He disappeared through the door and a light flicked on in whatever room he had entered.

She followed him inside, then stopped.

They were in his bedroom.

Ignoring the temptation of sleep, Ana kicked off her sneaker and padded out after him with her one bare foot and her cast, trying not to clunk as she walked.

Elijah’s shoulders tightened as she stepped out onto the deck. She started to put her arms around him, then hesitated, no longer certain whether the intimacy would be welcome now that he didn’t need it. Instead, she walked up beside him and leaned on the rail next to him, staring out at the beautiful view. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t expect an answer, not with the way he’d physically withdrawn from her since they’d arrived.

But he surprised her with a reply. “The last time I was here, I had the worst nightmares I’d ever had. I dreamed I was murdering Gideon and Quinn and relishing every blow I sank into their bodies. I woke up in the middle of the night, absolutely certain I’d be covered in their blood. But I wasn’t. It was a dream, but I couldn’t imagine how it wasn’t real. It felt so real.” His voice was low and controlled, but she felt the intensity of his emotions vibrating beneath the surface.

Her guess had been right about the bedroom, and Elijah was facing that night for the first time. “I’m sorry.” She wanted to touch his hand, but she wasn’t sure if he’d welcome that or not.

“I had to get the blood off, so I got in the shower, but about halfway through, I realized that...” He swore softly and said nothing else.

“You realized what?” she urged gently.

His fingers tightened on the railing. “I had this sudden moment of awakening, this vision in my head as if I suddenly understood everything that mattered.”

Empathy filled her for the torment in his voice, for the damage that had been done to him so ruthlessly. “An illusion?”

Elijah nodded. “It was Frank messing with me, but I didn’t know that at the time. I suddenly was absolutely positive that everything that had gone wrong in my life was Quinn’s fault. That he was my enemy. That he’d arranged for me to kill Ian’s
sheva
because he knew it would screw me up. That he’d done the blood bond with me five hundred years ago so he could control me.”

Oh, God, how could Frank have messed with a friendship that was such a critical part of Elijah’s well-being? The cruelty of that was beyond words, to take away those he loved. “That’s not true. I’ve seen the affection between you—”

“I know now, but in that moment, the truth looked very different.” Elijah’s voice was hard. “I was in that shower, with soap in my hair and suddenly I was filled with such vile
hatred
for him. I knew he didn’t deserve to live, and that I was the only one fast enough to kill him. I was
consumed
by a need to destroy him. Right then. Nothing else mattered, other than killing my own blood brother. I didn’t even rinse off. I just jumped out of the shower, yanked on my clothes and went out to his place and murdered him.” His voice grew brittle. “And all those trainees. I killed them all. For a while, I thought maybe it wasn’t real, that I hadn’t really done it, but I know now that I did. I slaughtered them for no reason other than that I was fucking losing my mind.”