Dirty Angel (Sainted Sinners #1) (28 page)

E
cho had never been so
tense in her entire life, and it was mostly due to Rhys’s presence in her life and in her bed at night.

It had been three days since the Guardians had staged her two daring rescues, and she had already learned a lot more about them all. For instance, Rhys was sort of the de facto leader, seemingly because neither of the other two were stable enough. According to Rhys, Gabriel was prone to spells of depression and manic magical research, in which he might disappear for days at a time. Aeric, Rhys told Echo, was just paranoid, moody, and blunt in the extreme, plus terrible at dealing with humans. Strangers especially.

Echo had also learned that the three men kept their own hours but generally followed a collective schedule that revolved around patrolling several Kith hot spots where trouble might be had. Each man worked every third night, patrolling in the French Quarter, three of the more sacred cemeteries, Congo Square, and a few other known places of power.

The two men not on patrol on any given night were responsible for responding to any Kith-related incidents or calls of distress, which Echo likened to being some kind of paranormal EMTs. They broke up fights, investigated major crimes, and dispatched demons and Kith who preyed on others.

Echo was surprised to find that Rhys was very rigid and regimented in his daily schedule, rising early to work out and spar with Gabriel or Aeric. Echo hardly saw any of them for the next couple of days, as Pere Mal’s actions caused ripples across the city, making little flares of distress go up all over New Orleans. The Guardians were busy on calls most of the time, leaving Echo to explore the Manor and question Duverjay about all manner of Guardian business.

She’d woken alone in Rhys’s bed on her first full day at the Manor to find that Duverjay had filled the guest room closet with all manner of clothes and shoes and other necessities in her size. That night, she’d tried sleeping in the guest bed, but she’d woken at four to find Rhys wrapped around her, snoring softly. Since it apparently did no good to sleep in a separate room, Echo did sleep in his bed, but they hadn’t yet had a quiet moment to discuss… well, anything.

By day three, Echo was in dire need of a talk with Rhys. To be frank, she was growing quite obsessed with him, but she had no real understanding of what all her… urges… meant. Did he feel the same? Was it just fate, or some crazy bear shifter thing? And what about Tee-Elle - had the Guardians made any progress in looking for her? Duverjay was taciturn and useless on the subject, so Echo knew she needed to pin Rhys down and ask him some questions.

After a long, amazingly hot shower to wash away a little of her awkwardness over sharing a bed with a complete stranger, Echo threw on a soft white t-shirt and a pair of fitted jeans. She headed downstairs in search of breakfast, remembering the amazing French omelet Duverjay had prepared for her the day before. Finding the ground floor empty, she’d ventured out to the gym.

Nothing could have prepared Echo for the sight of the three Guardians stripped to the waist, sweating heavily as they lunged at each other with wooden practice swords. She watched for a handful of minutes, enjoying their taunting banter and shit talking, before Rhys noticed her presence.

He lost his focus on the swordplay and Gabriel immediately took Rhys down, pinning the Scot to the ground with a howl of triumph.

“I finally got you, you bastard!” Gabriel crowed, tossing his sword aside and helping Rhys to his feet.

“He was distracted by Echo,” Aeric pointed out, nodding to draw Gabriel’s attention to their audience. “It doesn’t really count.”

Echo blushed and walked over to them, an apology on the tip of her tongue. She tried her best, but she couldn’t stop staring at Rhys’s perfectly sculpted abs, thick shoulders and pecs, and tautly toned arms and back.

“Doesn’t matter. If this was real, he’d be just as fucked. He taught me that,” Gabriel said with a shrug.

“True enough,” Aeric said.

“Fuck the both of you,” Rhys said, wiping his brow and turning to Echo. “And hello to you.”

Echo gave him a soft smile, finally managing to rip her gaze away from his insane body.

“Sorry I made you lose,” she said, amused. “I thought you might be able to take a break for breakfast with me.”

“Of course. I’m done for the morning anyhow,” Rhys said, though Echo knew perfectly well that he usually stayed in gym at least half the day, sparring or doing target practice with various weapons. She was blown away by that kind of stamina; Echo always felt wiped after a single hour of yoga, for god’s sake.

Echo ignored the lascivious look that passed from Gabriel to Aeric at her invitation to spend time together. Rhys gave them both a threatening glare and then turned back to her.

“I have some news for you as well,” Rhys said, grabbing his shirt from where it lay on the far end of the sparring mat. “How about I shower and then meet you in my library? I can have Duverjay bring up something for us to eat.”

Echo nodded, distracted again. She was a tiny bit sad to watch him put his shirt back on, covering up the sweat-slicked glory of his torso. He caught her looking and arched an amused brow, making her blush red as a tomato. Luckily, he didn’t say anything.

Whatever, Echo had caught him checking out her ass yesterday. Though Echo didn’t consider herself to be the hottest thing on the planet, considering that she had enough curves for three or four skinnier girls, it was obvious that Rhys found her plenty interesting.

Just another part of the conversation they needed to have. And they needed to have it soon, because they’d come close to locking lips two more times since Echo’s arrival at the Manor. She wanted to explore the chemistry between them, more than she’d ever wanted to test things with any other guy, but she needed to know…

Something. She wasn’t really sure what, which was even more frustrating.

Rhys walked her into the main house and upstairs, leaving her in his living area while he headed off to shower. Echo sifted through some of the papers on the table in his library, surprised to find that he had a number of books and scrolls referencing the Three Lights.

Apparently Rhys was much more serious about her situation than she’d given him credit for. She flipped through what he had on the table, quickly becoming engrossed in what she found.

“Anythin' good?”

Echo turned as Rhys’s thick brogue rang out, making gooseflesh break out over her arms. She turned to find him in the doorway, and he was wearing even less than he had been back in the gym.

He was all but naked, a thick navy blue towel wrapped low about his hips, his tanned skin and chestnut hair still damp. He’d trimmed his beard close but the reddish tone of it was still apparent. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and Echo realized that he knew exactly what effect he was having on her.

“Why is this happening?” Echo blurted out, her eyes dropping to his chest, then his abs, then at the way the towel clung to his…
hips
…

Before she realized it, she’d abandoned the research and moved closer to Rhys, soaking in his muscular perfection.

“Why is what happenin', lass?” he asked, raising a brow. He did that, Echo now realized, the brow and the nickname, when he wanted to provoke her.

She licked her lips as she worked on an answer.

“This… this pull between us,” she said, blushing. “I’ve never felt this with anyone, and we haven’t even… done anything.”

Rhys’s smile turned wicked at her euphemism.

“Fucked, do ye mean?” he asked.

“Yes,” Echo said, feeling her blush spread to her neck and chest. That word on his lips, with that accent, it was just unfair.

“Hold that thought,” Rhys said, retreating.

Echo groaned and dropped onto one of the couches, unsatisfied in the extreme. Rhys reappeared in less than a minute, wearing a tight white t-shirt and jeans that fit him like a glove.

“I don’t think it’s right to talk about this in just a towel,” he admitted with a shrug. He sat down next to her, close enough that they were almost touching.

“So there is something to talk about, then,” Echo surmised, scanning his face.

“Aye. I thought yE might know, but perhaps it’s not the same for witches.”

Echo shook her head.

“I’ve never heard of… whatever this is,” she said.

Rhys took a minute with his answer, reaching out to run two fingers down her shoulder and arm, making her shiver.

“We’re fated for one another, Echo.”

Echo’s gaze snapped up to his.

“I’m sorry?” she asked.

“Fated. Like, meant to be, written in the stars.”

“I— I know what fated means. It’s the other part I don’t get,” she said, her brow hunching.

“We’re mates, lass. There’s just one person for each shifter, ye see, and you’re it for me.”

Echo took a breath, parsing his words.

“Is there just one person for me, then? Because I’ve had boyfriends, you know.”

Rhys’s gaze hardened for a moment, but he shook his head.

“It’s alright if there have been others, for either of us. We couldn’t know we were fated until we laid eyes on each other. It’s sort of…” he started, then trailed off.

“Love at first sight?” Echo said with a skeptical glance.

“Aye. You’ll see,” he said. His thumb skimmed her collarbone, calloused from so much sword practice, and Echo felt her nipples harden.

“So we’re… attracted to each other,” Echo said, trying to get to the bottom of it. “Maybe meant to connect. What else?”

Rhys was focused on stroking her collarbone in slow, rhythmic motions.

“Everything. There will never be another for either of us, lass. Once we consummate the bond and I mark you—”

“Mark me? Like… with your teeth?”

“Aye,” Rhys said, his gaze drifting up to pin Echo in place. “I hear it’s quite pleasurable for both parties.”

Echo couldn’t think of a decent response to that.

“Then it’s the two of us, forever,” Rhys finished.

To Echo’s surprise, he didn’t take advantage of her momentary inability to respond to move closer. He pulled back instead, moving around the table to pluck a crumbling scroll off the table.

He glanced up and pulled an apologetic face. “I know it’s a lot all at once. We dinnae have to go fast, lass.”

Just the twang on the word
lass
had Echo all worked up, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to tell Rhys otherwise. He was intimidating to her, so smart and sexy and wise. Echo was a local girl who worked in a crappy retail Voodoo shop that catered to tourists. She couldn’t control her own magic, and she was more than a little fucked in the head from her childhood. The idea that she and Rhys had somehow been cosmically paired was almost comical.

Not that her traitorous body had any idea that connecting with Rhys was an impossible thing; no, her hormones were flying like a sixteen year old at junior prom. Part of Echo suspected that Rhys knew exactly how turned on she was, and simply chose not to exploit or mention it.

Echo just shook her head. Thankfully Rhys let the matter drop, turning to the research he’d dug up on the Three Lights. There were mentions here an there, most in the last twenty years or so. What interested Echo more were the three mentions in much older texts, one of them written almost two hundred years before Echo’s birth.

Was this more fated cosmic crap? Why was the universe out to screw with her this week? Until a few days ago, she’d never had so much as a flicker of trouble from the Kith world. Today, she was being hunted by world-ending-wannabes and courted by a massive, overly attractive werebear.

What gives?

“There’s a story behind all of this,” Echo sighed after Rhys told her what little he knew. “It’s a family thing, I guess.”

Rhys’s brows shot up.

“You already knew you were the First Light?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” Echo said, grabbing a chair and settling into it. Rhys sat across from her, and Echo could feel his gaze on her as she twined her fingers in her lap, trying to decide how much to reveal.

“Echo, just tell me,” Rhys chided.

“Well… you know that I’m a witch.”

Rhys nodded, his expression patient. Echo continued, “Well, I’m also a medium. I see spirits.”

She paused to let that sink in, but Rhys was unfazed.

“So you were informed about the Three Lights sometime in the past,” Rhys guessed.

“Not too distant, actually. My mother appeared a few days ago, and she told me a few pieces of the story.”

Echo quickly filled him in on the conversation, and Rhys seemed perplexed.

“Why didn’t you dig deeper? Surely your mother would have told you more if you’d asked,” he said.

“We never… our relationship wasn’t good when she was alive. And I was so young when she died, only six. I never really got to know her, I guess,” Echo explained with a defensive shrug.

Rhys reached out and trapped her fingers against the table, lacing them with his own.

“I’m sorry, lass. I didn’t know. Has your mother not visited you often, then?” he asked, his voice warm with concern.

“No. That was the first… the
only
time,” Echo said, her voice wavering.

Rhys’s eyes tightened a fraction, but he didn’t delve into Echo’s past.

“Did your mother tell you anything else?” he asked.

“Just that I’ve made myself a target. Until Pere Mal gets what he wants, I’m a danger to anyone who hides me. And if he gets me, he’ll use me to find two other women. There’s no winning,” Echo said, her shoulders drooping.

“Well,” Rhys began, his tone cautious, “She’s right about one part. We can’t let Pere Mal get you. That’s more for my sake than anything else, though.”

His gentle joke pulled a half-smile from Echo, and she gave him an appreciative glance.

“You won’t like my mother’s last bit of advice, then. She told me to stay away from you, that I would end up sacrificing myself for you.”

Echo couldn’t miss the black cloud that passed over Rhys’s face, but he merely gave her fingers a squeeze and released her.

“Have you used a scrying mirror before?” Rhys asked, changing the subject.