Kindred of the Fallen (5 page)

“You know each other?” Serenity asked in a fragile voice that cracked.

“He’s the new client I’ve been raving about,” Evan said, grinning.

Serenity’s gaze whipped to Cyrus. She stared at him with pure disgust as though he was some vile creature that had crawled out of a swamp.

“Evan, now I can see why you barely told me anything about her. She’s definitely a secret I’d keep all to myself as well.” Cyrus took a business card with his cell number from his pocket and offered it to her. “Please, take my card.”

Stiffening, she gave a pinched smile, gripping Evan’s arm. “I’m sure Evan has plenty.”

His chest constricted. He was losing her. For the first time in his life, he was failing.

He’d been patient, done proper recon, observing first to better understand her before making contact. He even made it his business to know the man she lived with. He’d done everything right. Surely she had felt the undeniable bond, the connection between them.

Still, his mate clung to this unworthy human.

Serenity flashed a grin at Evan. “What exactly did you say about me? Did you mention what I do?”

All that sweet talk about a connection. If Cyrus turned out to be one of those twisted individuals who only wanted what someone else had, she’d be sick. She prayed this second meeting was only a lovely act of chance.

Tightening his grip on her waist, Evan gave a forced chuckle. “You know I don’t advertise your shop.”

That was code for “I’m ashamed of what you do and never volunteer the information”.

She glanced at Cyrus while Evan continued to speak.

Cyrus’s jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. He shoved the card back in his pocket and chugged his drink in a single swallow. His eyes darkened. His gaze traveled up her body and lingered just a second too long on her waist. His upper lip twitched and the bridge of his nose wrinkled. She checked to see what was wrong with her dress, besides the hideous color, but there was only Evan’s arm hooked around her.

“You only came up because he asked if I was married,” Evan added. “I said I was engaged to a brilliant, beautiful woman I couldn’t live without.”

“He even neglected to mention your name.” Cyrus extended his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you properly.”

She stared at his thick palm and a frisson of excitement rippled through her, moistening her panties. Evan cleared his throat and nudged her elbow. She couldn’t risk touching Cyrus again. What if she couldn’t let him go?

As Cyrus dropped his hand, his eyes locked on hers, piercing her soul with the undeniable intensity of lightning striking steel. Her heart slowed with an erratic pulse, as if it had forgotten how to beat. A soft sigh slipped from her mouth. Everything around her crumbled into dust: the party, the terrace…Evan. Only Cyrus remained.

“Sweets, you’re shaking. Are you cold?” Evan rubbed her arm.

Cyrus turned away and the world moved once more.

“Evan, do you remember the deal I’m working on in London?” Cyrus asked.

“The acquisition of a small biometrics company. I remember quite well.”

“The deal is not going the way I’d like.”

“I’m yours now,” Evan said. “Do you want me to go over the contract?”

“I want you in London on Monday to oversee the acquisition personally.” Cyrus strolled to the doors. “This is short notice, but I don’t want to put unnecessary delays in the process.”

Evan let her go and followed. “You’re paying us a great deal to handle your legal requirements, no matter how short notice. I’ll make arrangements to fly out this weekend.”

Evan wasn’t a slight man, but standing next to Cyrus, he seemed small in stature. Or perhaps Cyrus, luminous as the sun, couldn’t help the way he eclipsed other men.

Her body had never responded to a man the way it did with Cyrus. She loved Evan, but they’d never kindled a spark, much less a fire. Nonetheless she couldn’t let a blaze of lust incinerate sixteen years of steadfast friendship and the safety net of her only family.

The electric current from Cyrus ebbed as the two men strolled inside, until it was no longer palpable, leaving emptiness in its wake.

She staggered to the patio table and gripped the back of a chair. How could she be enamored with a stranger? Love at first sight was for fairytales. And it was completely beyond the realm of possibility with some jetsetter who would have been featured on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
Champagne wishes and caviar dreams, my ass.

Yet no one had ever roused such sweet euphoria. The feel of the world falling away enveloped her once more and she sank into a patio chair.
 

Chapter Four

Forty-one hours after touching his
kabashem
, Cyrus still couldn’t decide if fate was kind or cruel. He stretched his neck from side to side as he wielded his sword. Planting his bare feet on the gym mat, he prepared for his sparring partner’s advance.

Abbadon, his advisor and old friend, swung his blade high, aimed at the head. Cyrus ducked and rolled to the side on his knees. As he sprang to his feet, their swords clashed in a flurry of silver.

The strident clanging of the metal brought him familiar comfort. Sweat trickled down his brow and he relished the burn building in his arms and thighs. He needed to work off the sting of his setback.
 

Thanks to Serenity’s obstinacy or her attachment to the human, his plan the other night had completely fallen apart. He’d heard how others had met their
kabashem
, and about the instant, irrefutable attraction. Hell, he’d felt it and it had taken every ounce of self-control to keep from peeling her clothes off.

Sometimes politics and the issue of redemption clouded things between mates, but with Serenity there were no Kindred beliefs to muddy the waters. What had gone wrong with his approach? One of the most feared warriors amongst Kindred and chosen to be the next Council member to govern his House, but he couldn’t garner enough interest from his
kabashem
to get her to agree to dinner.

“It is a good omen she doesn’t belong to one of the other Houses,” Abbadon said. “War would be upon us if you tried to unite with her under those circumstances.”

If the other Houses discovered he’d found his
kabashem
, war would still be inevitable. Even though more Kindred became afflicted every day with either bloodlust or the dark veil, both devastating their species, some didn’t want the curse to end. It would mean the loss of their preternatural powers in exchange for redemption. They’d sooner choose death, and most certainly war, than to be relegated to the mediocrity of humankind.

The two circled each other. His opponent thrust his sword out and Cyrus parried every strike with fluidity honed over years of training. The blows were quick and tight, testing Cyrus’s reflexes as well as his judgment. Their blades collided, locking together. Metal grated against metal. The sword twisted loose from Cyrus’s hand and clunked to the mat.

He landed two swift uppercuts to Abbadon’s chin. “Approaching her when she thinks she’s human was like sailing into battle without knowing which way the wind would blow.”

His sparring partner quickly regained his bearings. “She may think she’s human, but you have the advantage.” Abbadon kept his sword high. “Use it to make her submit.”

“You’ve little appreciation for a human’s mindset, especially a human female.”

Cyrus slammed the heel of his foot into Abbadon’s gut and knocked the sword from his hand. Without giving his opponent time to recover, he seized Abbadon by the throat and brought him to the floor in a monstrous thud. The concrete floor cracked beneath the mat.

Wrestling to break free, Abbadon grunted. His skin shifted to the cobalt blue color of a Kindred warrior preparing for real combat. He rose, lifting Cyrus. Abbadon snarled as his wings unfurled with an imposing swish. Cyrus railed on the inside. He’d never get his wings until his life force merged fully with his mate’s, activating his dormant power.

He scrambled to offset his adversary’s new edge. He might not have wings, but he could still mete out a fearsome dose of damage, as long as he didn’t let him take to the air.

Cyrus sent his elbow crashing into Abbadon’s head.

Thrown off balance, Abbadon tottered for a second, then ascended from the floor. With a growl, Cyrus snatched the winged warrior’s ankle and yanked him back to the ground.

Fists hammered flesh, spiking the musky air with the metallic scent of blood. Cyrus embraced the pain to sharpen his focus and determination to win. Wounds could be healed later.

When Abbadon doubled over, Cyrus knew he had him. A knee to the head and an elbow to the base of the neck, and Abbadon dropped to his knees.

Cyrus towered over him, chest heaving. “Concede.”

Abbadon staggered to his feet. Sapphire drained from his complexion as his wings retracted. “Since you’re reluctant to take my advice, what do you intend to do?”

Tightness knitted through the muscles of Cyrus’s back. He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. “I’m going to collect her now and bring her home.”

He had to handle the situation with shrewd delicacy like the politician he was groomed to be and not with the force of the warrior he was born. He didn’t know what he was going to say or how he was going to do it, but he was going to claim his mate. With Evan in London and no opposing House to stand in his way, failure a third time was unacceptable.

Since he’d disconnected from her pool of energy, a chill lingered in his blood and his stream had slowed to a crawl. The life force of the collective had been sufficient to sustain him for more than two centuries. Now the ripples he felt from the others were barely tangible. He needed the lightning bolt of her energy, needed the heat of her body warming him.

More than the fulfillment of his desire was at stake. Too many were dying from the dark veil and he was being called upon several times a week to euthanize more brethren lost to blood frenzy. His task to safeguard the Kindred race from exposure, keeping their existence secret from humanity, was growing more difficult.

Abbadon placed a hand on Cyrus’s shoulder. “You and your
kabashem
are the greatest hope for redemption in a thousand years. The road ahead of you will not be easy, but you must succeed where the other Blessed unions failed.”

They hadn’t simply failed. The other three couples over the millennia had been killed.

There was no telling if he and Serenity would be able to open themselves and trust one another enough for their split souls to fully reunite as one, or how long it could take. And that was the easy part. Only the birth of a child from a Blessed couple, the manifestation of a Fallen one’s soul restored and made whole, would break the curse wiping out Kindred like an epidemic.

He tamped down the doubt clawing up in his chest. He had to succeed or his species would soon be extinct.

Talus crept around the periphery of the gym near a rack of weapons. Her stealth had improved. She’d never gotten so close without him noticing.

“Did you cut flowers from the garden for me?” he asked without looking in her direction.

“Of course,” Talus said as she approached. “I put them in the car. No roses. Blush peonies, just as you instructed. And I got you this.” She thrust a box of chocolates toward him. “On commercials, human males are always buying chocolates and diamonds for women.”

He raised an eyebrow at the heart-shaped box. Diamonds would have been more fitting. The corners of Talus’s mouth drooped and her eyes grew big. The look made him think of a wounded pup. Begrudgingly, he took the box. “Thank you. This is excellent initiative.”

His ward’s face lightened. “Why did you pull me from surveillance? Did I do something wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong. Surveillance is no longer necessary.”

Talus stared at him as if waiting for him to elaborate. “I’ll wait in the car to drive you as soon you’re ready to go.”

“I’ve asked Cassian to play chauffeur. Why don’t you take a couple of days off, go to the brownstone in the city and have fun? I’ll send your brother to join you later.”

After Serenity’s reaction to Talus, he wanted the girl as far away as possible for now.

“I
did
do something wrong.”

He kissed her forehead. “This isn’t a punishment. It’s a reward for all your hard work.”

Her face contorted into a grimace, but she nodded and left without protest.

Cyrus scrutinized the red box of chocolates. He had to get Serenity to trust and desire him. Candy didn’t seem the best way to start.

A union between
kabashem
, Blessed or not, could be precarious and never ensured harmony or happiness. His gaze fixed on the one-inch scar over Abbadon’s heart.

“I’ve always wondered why you didn’t let the healer mend the wound completely.”

Abbadon ran two fingers across the mark, his eyes cast down. “I keep it to remind me, duty before love. It would behoove you to bear the same in mind.”

Trapped in a miasma of doubt, Serenity drifted in line at the arts and crafts store toward the register. Cyrus’s smile burned a hole in her mind. She couldn’t forget the sound of his melodic voice or the rush of elation from his touch.