Darkness Undone (2 page)

“Sheesh, you’re a total buzz-kill, Kat,” Eve grumbled.

She snorted. “So, yes, David.”

Her cover charge settled, they headed in. Rock music threatened to rupture Eve’s eardrums. Overhead, strobe lights worked the crowd on the dance floor, turning their movements to frenzied jerks and shakes. The sharp odor of alcohol and heavy perfume crowded her nose as they cut through the masses. Kat’s slinky strides took on a bump and grind movement as she headed for a table near the dance floor which their friends occupied.

Eve grinned and gave them a quick wave.

Eric, lanky and dusky skinned, shot to his feet and hauled her into a hug that made the air swoosh out of her lungs. His hazel eyes darkened with concern. “Next time, no excuses. I’m picking you up. I know you're busy but I see you way too little these days.”

Yep, growing up with someone gave them rights to play big brother. But then he was…in a way. After all, his parents were her guardians.

Thankfully, Brenna saved her from near asphyxiation and slung her arm around Eve's waist in a quick hug. Her crystal-blue eyes sparkled, a startling contrast against her caramel skin and silky black hair. She brushed Eve’s cheek in a quick kiss and said in her ear, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t stop Kataya from her nefarious plans for your induction into womanhood.”

With a deep sigh, she couldn’t suppress, Eve slid a glance to David—the guy who would make her a woman, if her friend had her way. As if having boobs and PMS didn’t already mark her as one, she thought with wry amusement.

David waited patiently to greet her. An artist like her, his collection of paintings would debut tomorrow at Eric’s gallery. A few inches taller than Eve’s own five-foot-six, he was slender with overgrown sandy-brown hair that had a tendency to flop into his eyes. Colorful dabs of paint marred his navy tee. Eve hid her smile, knowing he’d probably forgotten to change. But then David’s philosophy ran along the lines “as long as I'm not naked.” She doubted even that would bother him.

“Hello, David.”

“Happy, happy day, Eve.” Pleasure lit his narrow, attractive face as his gaze skimmed over her in appreciation.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Yep, he made no bones about the fact he liked her. But the gleam in his light blue eyes and the empty wine glass showed that he’d already made headway into starting the party. He took her gloved hand and kissed her knuckles, making her smile.

She sat in the chair he held out and accepted the flute of sparkling wine Eric handed her.

“A toast.” He raised his glass. “To our girl, Eve.”

The music made speeches impossible, but emotion crowded her, and she basked in her friends’ love. They accepted her despite the fact that she could never touch them without a barrier of protection. Not since the accident.

The car crash that had killed her parents didn’t just leave her with scarred hands, but also a far bleaker legacy. She couldn’t touch another without being drawn into their minds, seeing their thoughts, and feeling their emotions. And it wasn’t without repercussions.

A sudden influx of strong, emotional energy from another, and unbearable pain followed, so much so that she sometimes lost consciousness.

Eve pushed the painful thoughts aside as Kataya had set a small bakery box on the table.

“Okay,” she yelled above the music, tucking a few spirally red strands behind her ear. “Before we all get rip-roaring drunk, here…” She flipped open the cover to reveal a red velvet cupcake. The creamy icing on top simply read, ‘Happy Birthday.’

Brenna stuck a pink candle in the center, lit it, and slid the box to Eve. She smiled, flashing twin dimples. “Because we love you and know you hate the fuss. So, make a wish, make thousands, and may they all come true!”

Overwhelmed, Eve tugged at the small, gold, half-hoop earring she wore. She didn’t have any family, but this little group was hers.

Eve glanced at her friends’ happy faces. Ten long years without physical contact and emptiness crowded her heart. Just once she yearned to hold them—to hold someone she loved.

Inhaling roughly, because she might as well wish for the moon, Eve blew out the candle.

They handed her a card and a small flat box covered in red foil and tied with a silver bow. They’d covered the card with well wishes and xoxo’s. Then she ripped open the package and found a gold bracelet with four charms nestled in white tissue.

At a guess she knew exactly which charm came from whom. The daisy from Brenna, because Eve loved them, the ladder from Eric—probably for her success in her new venture, the clover leaf from Kat, for luck—she hoped, and the double heart? David.

She really, really wished he hadn't given her that.

“Thank you.” She slipped on the bracelet then drank her wine to ease the tightness in her throat.

David nudged her arm, picked up the wine bottle. “Top up?”

“No, not yet.”

She’d met David several months ago through Eric. Even though she could touch David without a painful influx of thoughts and feelings flooding her, it wasn't all smooth sailing. Instead, his creatively charged mind usually pulled her into a maelstrom of colors that left her with a low-grade headache.

If she decided to date David like he wanted, she’d have to tell him of her affliction. She could only hope he wouldn’t run off in the opposite direction.

“Ready for your show?” she asked him.

David blew out a heavy breath, picked up his wine and took a deep swallow. “Ask me after.”

Eve laughed. She understood his qualms since her own debut loomed in front of her just over a week away. Her stomach knotted at the thought. If her sculptures didn’t take off, she may as well find her own cardboard box and call it home.

Eve pushed the gloomy thought aside. She wanted to enjoy this evening and not think of
what if
. Sipping her drink, she took in the crowded nightclub. Her attention wandered to the VIP section on the second level, corded off from the common folks for the rich and famous and their wild partying.

The hunk with the pale hair would be up there, she mused. Bet he wouldn’t be alone for long. Women must be drawn to him like bees to pollen.

Ugh, when had she become this petty? And over a man? A stranger, for goodness sake!

“Dance?” David yelled in her ear. His smile took on a fiendish appearance in the eerie purple strobe light. He crossed his eyes, exaggerating his odd look and nodded to the dance floor. Eve laughed, putting the stranger out of her mind.

Perhaps Kat was right, maybe she should take a chance with David.

***

Heavy rock music blasted off the walls and settled in Reynner’s head. Flashing lights almost blinded his sensitive eyes. He wished Michael had rethought their meeting place. The club thronged with people. And he didn't like crowds.

Reynner leaned against the steel balustrade running the length of the gallery that overlooked the dance floor. He ignored the skimpily dressed women trying to make eye contact, his attention on the approaching male.

Dressed all in black, the leader of the Guardians fit in with most of the club’s clientele, but for his exceptional height of six foot nine. Strands of night-dark hair escaped their tie and framed a face that appeared carved from granite. Shades covered eyes Michael didn’t reveal to the human populace.

The females tracked him with covetous looks, drawn by the angelic allure, but something about him made them keep their distance. Had to be the hands-off, hard-ass look the archangel wore like a mantle.

Michael had been the one to find him eons ago, killing demoniis like some demented being after he’d escaped Hell. The archangel had hauled Reynner off to Exilum, a sanctuary for immortals and a place he now called home. Yeah, he owed Michael big time, and it was why he continued to hunt supernatural evil wherever he was while searching for the foretold one.

Michael handed him a squat glass before taking a swallow of his coke.

Reynner cocked a brow. “What’s up?”

“Aethan’s back in New York.”

Hearing that name, Reynner’s stomach churned. Nothing would ever ease his guilt. He’d accepted long ago that
he
should have been banished for Ariana’s death, not Aethan. Not the male who’d once been his best friend.

“Anything else?”

Michael gave him a long, hard stare. “Why don’t you meet him? Get this shit out of the way. You were friends once.”

“Friendships fall apart all the time. Besides, it’s too late for that.” Three millennia too late. Aethan probably hated his guts.

Michael gave him a hard stare then shook his head. “You’re one stubborn bastard.”

Whatever. He needed to focus on finding the female tied to the scroll. Two damn months in this city, and still no sign of her. It was time to move on, to scry for another possible location. He had no desire to bump into his old friend and revisit a past they could never shake. Or put right.

“Thanks for the heads up.” Reynner handed his untouched liquor to a passing waitress and headed out. As he cleared the stairs, a visceral hunger slammed him square in the chest. He skidded to a halt.

What the hell?

Inhaling harshly, he rubbed his sternum and scanned the place. Beneath the layers of liquor, sweat, and heavy perfume, a delicate fragrance with a tantalizing hint of peach seeped into him and stroked his senses. His body went into slow burn. Blood heated. His groin hardened. A strange, urgent need took hold of him. Compelled, he tracked the scent down the corridor. But the trail disappeared into the restroom where a pack of females took their own sweet time entering their shrine. Did women do nothing solo?

Irritated and forced to cool his heels, Reynner waited. His cell vibrated. He checked the text then ignored it. Damn interfering angel. Michael never gave up trying to fix a broken past.

Reynner leaned against the wall several feet from the bathroom door and willed off the light above him. With his height and hair, the attention he drew was a bloody nuisance. Throw in his cursed angelic allure—yeah, the shit was a guaranteed trouble magnet. He clamped down on his psychic shields, his attention fixed on the restroom, cell phone tapping against his thigh.

Whoever the female was that had worked her mojo on him would wish to the high heavens she hadn't. He’d made that mistake once with Inanna and had paid the price for his stupidity. He wasn’t about to let it happen again.

***

Eve stared at her reflection in the restroom mirror, tucked her long bangs behind her ear, and inhaled a deep breath. Everything about this evening was heading in the direction she wanted. So why was she having second thoughts?

Deep down, she understood her hesitation. She wanted to fall in love—have what her parents had had before their deaths—but with her affliction, it was but a dream.

She raked back her hair and sighed. Earlier, she’d casually touched David’s hand minus gloves, just to be sure, and colors had roared to life in her head. Thankfully, without the painful invasion of thoughts and feelings she normally got from others. But the impulsive brush had left her with a slight throb in her temples.

So what did she do?

Surrender to dating a man she liked despite the headaches or live a lonely life?

A noisy group of women entered and broke through her depressing thoughts. Her cell beeped. She grabbed her gloves off the basin, retrieved the phone from her bag, and read the text. A belated wish from one of her old coworkers.

Smiling at the exploding birthday cake gif, Eve left the bathroom and crashed face-first into a brick wall of muscles.

Aw, crap!
Her open purse flew to the floor, scattering its contents. She stumbled back but her half-hoop earring caught on the soft fabric of his shirt, jerking her forward. Pain blinded her. Gasping, Eve blinked back tears as she pulled free. Calloused hands steadied her. At the strong grip, goosebumps flooded her skin and the fine hairs on her arms rose.

Her gaze snapped up. And up. The air rushed out of her lungs. Apology and throbbing ear forgotten, Eve gaped at the man holding her.

So beautiful…

But there was nothing feminine about him. A beautiful warrior. A towering wall of unyielding muscles, the only thing missing was a sword. Power stamped his tough body and etched the hard lines of his incredible face. His pale, moonlit hair was tied back to reveal the sculptured lines of his jaw. Eyes like midnight skies, stroked with a slash of indigo, remained cold. Flat.

Eve faltered at the complete lack of emotion on such a handsome face. She snatched her hands back from the soft leather of his burgundy coat, heat streaking her face at gawking like an idiot and lowered to her knees to gather her strewn things. Lipstick, brush, tissues...

She started in surprise when he hunkered before her in a rustle of leather, and in fluid moves, collected the rest of her things. The man smelled incredible. Wild and crisp like the forest after the rain. Without a word, he dropped her stuff into her bag, handed it to her, then picked up his cell and slipped it into his coat pocket.

It took her a moment to collect her scattered wits, aware of his cold, dark eyes studying her. Uneasy, she pushed to her feet and closed her bag. “Er, thank you.”