Ascension (7 page)

“They broke into the morgue in the basement. Took his blood.” Her voice was tight, strained by emotions that he could feel rushing through her.

The urge to stroke her hair, to kiss the top of her head and whisper to her that it would be fine, that he would protect her, was overwhelming but he kept still and silent. She leaned her cheek against his chest and then her hands were on him, pressing into his pectorals and tugging his black shirt into her fists. She shook with each sob, the sound tearing at his heart. He never should have let her go. This never would have happened if he hadn’t let her leave him. He would have been there to protect her. She would have been safe with him.

“What does it mean?” He pulled her closer, letting her feel the strength of his arms around her and his resolve to look after her. She had come to him and he would take care of her now, would ensure her safety and never let anything bad happen to her again.

“Death,” Lealandra whispered and buried her face against his chest. Her hands moved to his back, fingertips digging into his shoulder blades as she clung to him.

Taig growled and his bones ached with the desire to shed his human skin and surrender to his dark hunger to hunt and destroy whoever had done this to Lealandra, whoever had turned his strong woman into this fragile girl quaking in his arms.

“The mark in the centre?” He lowered his head a fraction, enough that he could smell her hair and feel her warmth against his lips. Almost within kissing distance. It soothed the beast inside him enough that he retained human form.

Lealandra came out of his embrace, not moving far away enough that he had to let go of her, but placing herself beyond reach of his lips. Her eyes were bloodshot, lashes wet with tears. She took a deep shuddering breath.

“It’s a mark that means ascension. The line breaks it and pierces symbols for death and Hell.” She ran her fingers beneath her eyes, erasing her tears and the black marks left by her mascara, and then pointed a shaky finger at the symbols in question. “It’s a warning that I’m going to Hell.”

“It’s nice this time of year.” Taig flashed a soft smile but she didn’t return it. He kept one arm around her while he gently wiped away the remaining trace of her tears with the pad of his thumb. His fingers paused against the delicate curve of her jaw, his thumb resting close to her lips. He held her gaze, making sure her grey eyes stayed locked with his as he spoke. “I won’t let them hurt you, Lea. I won’t let Hell have you. I’d go down there and bring you back.”

She smiled at last. It was faint and only lasted a split second, but it was a smile nonetheless.

“I should freshen up and get my things.” She pulled away and he frowned at his outstretched hand, missing the feel of her against it.

“I’ll take a look around,” he said for want of something better to say.

She crossed the apartment and disappeared into the bathroom.

Taig looked at the mark. Death and Hell. Someone was out to kill her. There was no doubt about that. He turned and stared at the bullet hole in the wall of the living room. Someone who wanted to separate Lealandra from those who could protect her. They were trying to isolate her. Charlie’s death had taken away her Counter-Balance and weakened her. If she had believed that he had killed Charlie, it would have weakened her further and would have stripped her of a powerful ally. And the message that was designed to flush her out of the coven and force her into seclusion. They wanted Lealandra scared and alone during her ascension, a time when she would be both vulnerable and extremely powerful. They had managed to do one of those things but he wasn’t about to let the other happen. Lealandra would never be alone. Not while he lived.

He was still staring at the bullet hole, trying to piece everything together, when Lealandra stepped out of the bathroom and crossed the living room to her bedroom. His gaze immediately moved to her. Her eyes were still red from her crying but that didn’t change how beautiful she was and neither did the make-up she had reapplied. She was beautiful period, and looked her best first thing in the evening when he was waking up next to her. He smiled with the memory of all the early evenings they had shared. Nothing beat the feeling of waking slowly with her in his arms, their naked bodies entwined.

Lealandra stopped in the doorway of her bedroom, a large black holdall in her hand, and stared at him with wide grey eyes.

She looked her best when he kissed her so hard that her lips turned rosy and full and her pupils dilated to darken her eyes. When she wanted him, when he could read every thought crossing her mind and they were only about them, about him, then she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

When she looked at him as she was now.

Her painted red lips parted, showing a trace of white teeth. He remembered the feel of them against his flesh, the playful nips that she used to mark her path across his bare body, and the way she would kiss him better if he ever pretended that she had hurt him. Her pupils widened, hinting at her rising desire. His rose too, driven by the sight of her so full of hunger.

Driven by the sight of her.

Taig didn’t make a move towards her. The slightest movement by him would shatter the spell, the trance they had fallen under, and remind her of their surroundings and the things that had happened between them. Six years ago, he would have had her in his arms by now and would be pinning her to the bed as he kissed her. But this wasn’t then, and she wasn’t his anymore. Not yet, anyway.

Protection and a taste.

Did he really want to do things this way? Was he that much of a mercenary or that desperate to have her in his arms again? She would hate him for it.

A tiny part of him said to take the money she had offered him. It wasn’t much, but she wasn’t lying when she said it was all she had. He was surprised she had even that much. The coven barely gave an allowance and they didn’t pay people a salary. She must have come into the money some other way. He didn’t want to think about the possibilities. He hoped it had been from her previous coven.

She blinked and walked on, disappearing behind the wall. He stared through the doorway at the bed, listening to her moving around the room, pulling drawers open and closing doors. A zipper sounded and then she reappeared. A long dark red coat clung to her figure, tight against her torso but flaring out from her hips downwards. It was undone, revealing that she still wore the same black skirt, corset and boots she had been earlier.

When her eyes rose to meet his, he looked past her at the bedroom. The mark bothered him. So did the gun. Whoever had left the message knew about magic, possibly could even use it.

“Did you tell anyone that you didn’t think I was the killer?”

Her look turned thoughtful and she idly stroked her free hand down the length of her black hair. Taig’s fingers itched with the desire to replace them, to feel the silken strands of her hair slipping through his rough hands and to raise them to his nose and breathe in her delicate fragrance.

“Yes. It came up and I denied that you would do such a thing.” She placed her bag down at his feet, snapping him out of his reverie. “I said that even you wouldn’t go that far, at least not this long after I had left you.”

He winced internally at the reminder that she had been the one to leave him. It wasn’t one that he needed. Life had been hell without her.

“Do they know about this?” Taig stroked his fingers over her chest. The ascension mark sparked into existence, shimmering bright red beneath his fingertips and casting an eerie light over his hand.

A nod was her reply. She didn’t look happy about the fact that others knew of her impending ascension. His list of suspects was growing though. If she had told the coven that she didn’t think he would kill Charlie and that she was approaching the ascension, then there was a chance that this was an inside job. It would explain the message but not the demons that had been at the bar tonight. If it was a witch after Lealandra, why go to the length of working with demons?

Unless the witch wasn’t strong enough to face him themselves or they didn’t want to get their hands dirty.

Taig rubbed his head. It hurt to think this much when all he wanted to do was find the son of a bitch responsible and teach them a lesson. He was sorely used to someone giving him a mark and then him taking care of them. No need to think. Contract. Kill. Paid. That was the sort of life that he preferred. Investigation wasn’t in his repertoire.

Maybe he could start with the demons. They wouldn’t be too difficult to track and he could kill them and quench his thirst for vengeance.

“Taig,” Lealandra said, pulling him out of his pleasant thoughts. The wary look in her eyes spoke volumes. He reined in his anger so his demonic side receded and the red faded from his irises. She never had been comfortable with his true nature. He couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t comfortable with it himself. “We should go.”

She went to pick up her bag but he beat her to it. She raised a fine black eyebrow.

He smiled at her and shrugged. “Consider chivalry part of the deal.”

Her other eyebrow rose. “Chivalry? I didn’t think you even knew the word existed, let alone what it meant.”

He deserved that one. He never had done the gentleman thing with her—no opening doors or protecting her from cars by walking on the road side of the pavement. Unless you counted smashing doors in to get to their mark or shielding her body with his as a car crashed into them. He had done that before. He grinned and followed Lealandra to her door. It had been nice to have someone hunting with him.

And victory sex was fantastic.

His attention switched to their surroundings when Lealandra stepped out into the hall and his mind cleared. Reaching out with his senses, he did a sweep of the entire floor. The presence of several witches nearby sent him into high alert and his focus sharpened. He swapped the bag over to his left hand, leaving his right free for fighting if they ran into trouble.

Lealandra led the way down the pale neat corridor to the elevator, an invisible trail of nerves and fear in her wake. He moved closer to her, knowing that she would be able to feel his power and his intention to protect her, and that it would calm her.

They reached the elevator and she started her constant drumming of the call button. It wouldn’t come any quicker just because she was doing that. He was tempted to catch her wrist again to stop the irritating fast clicking of the button but gritted his teeth instead. Tapping it seemed to alleviate her nerves a little. Anything that did that was fine with him, even when it was the most annoying sound on the planet.

The elevators doors opened and he almost thanked God when her finger left the button and she stepped inside. He pressed the button on the panel to take them down to the foyer and stood in front of it, blocking Lealandra so she couldn’t start up her button pressing compulsion again.

The silence in the elevator was oppressive, making the space seem far smaller and more cramped than it was. Taig looked at the grid of lights above them for a short while and then at Lealandra. She was watching him, grey eyes narrowed slightly. Expectant. Was she waiting for him to say something?

“We never did it in an elevator.” He flashed a sly grin. “I could stop it and we could give it a go.”

She didn’t frown or hit him this time. She merely rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest in a way that said it wasn’t going to happen and she was going to pretend she hadn’t heard him.

“You sure?” He tapped the metal door and then the wall. She finally frowned when he ran a hand along the brass rail that edged three sides of the elevator at hip height to him. “It would probably hold your weight.”

“Not going to happen.” She glared at him, eyes cold and empty.

“The price of this contract—”

“Doesn’t get paid until it is fulfilled.”

He smirked and leaned back against the door. His elbow knocked against the stop button and the lift juddered to a halt. “And then we get fulfilled.”

She huffed and tried to reach around him. He moved to block her path to the buttons.

“You’re incorrigible,” she said on a sigh.

“You always said that was a good thing.” He countered her when she made another reach for the button.

“Will you just get out of the way?” Lealandra shoved him in the ribs, sending him off balance and crashing into the side.

The steel box of the elevator wobbled and the metallic skittering twang of the cables above warned that the impact hadn’t been welcome. Lealandra grabbed his arm, holding on for dear life until the elevator settled again.

“Christ, I thought you were suppose to stop me from being killed, not the reverse. That’s twice now.” She hit his arm and stepped away.

Taig righted himself. “I’m here aren’t I? You think I enjoy being surrounded by witches liable to kill me on the spot for just being in their territory? I have plenty better things I could be doing. And that time wasn’t my fault. You pushed me.”

She tilted her nose up and pressed the button. “Just get me the hell out of here and we’ll call it quits.”

Tension didn’t suit her. Taig decided it as he stood beside her waiting to reach the ground floor. Some people could handle it, like himself, and others went crazy. She was definitely one of the crazy ones.

The elevator doors opened.

In the lobby stood a reminder of what had Lealandra so worked up.

Gregori.

H
alf of the coven filled the vast bright lobby in front of Lealandra, a mixture of faces she was glad to see and ones that she knew were only there to either fight or see her fall. A thirty-foot strip of open grey marble floor separated her from them, forming a no man’s land on which three others stood. Two supreme mages, neat elderly greying men who wore the traditional ankle-length silver-buttoned navy coats of their office, and a younger man.

Gregori.

Taig thankfully remained quiet and still. She never knew what to expect from him and had never brought him into a situation like this. He was right. She had no reason to doubt his desire to protect her when he had walked right into her world, into the coven’s territory, placing himself in great danger.