Darkness Undone (3 page)

Still silent, he rose, too. And startling all heck out of her, he reached out and touched her ear. Eve jerked away and winced, pain simmering to life once more, then she saw the blood smeared on his fingertips.

Oh, wonderful, she was bleeding. Before it dripped down her neck and her friends called 911, she hustled for the restroom again. She tore some paper towels from the dispenser and examined the wound in the mirror when another image joined hers. Her breath strangled her throat.

Him
.

She swung around, wariness overriding her attraction when she looked into that cold, unforgettable face. “You can't come in here?”

“I just did.”

Her voice—just the sound of her voice—and it eased his edginess, soothing the nightmares and constant pain riding him. It shook the solid foundations of the walls he’d built around him after he’d escaped from Hell so long ago.

“What are you doing—this is the ladies?”

Her horrified voice hauled Reynner back to the dank bathroom and feminine whispers. He issued a silent command for the gaggle of females eyeing him like some damn prize to leave.

“And so it is,” he said as the door closed behind the women, turning the loud music from the club into a muted thumping.

She blinked her thickly fringed forest-green eyes. With skin a dusky gold, she appeared as if she’d wandered out from one of the desert climes. Nervous, scarred fingers brushed back hair the color of black coffee. The silky strands fell in a seductive sweep around her face to settle on her shoulders. Blood dripped down her neck from her injured ear.

“You’re hurt.”

“I know that, but you can't be in here.”

In response, he reached out and tugged free the paper towel she clutched to her chest like armor. “I hurt you, I’ll aid you.”

“It was an accident.”

Yeah, one he’d instigated. He cupped her delicate face, angled her jaw to examine the wound, and found her lobe had torn a little. Gently, he dabbed the blood.

She gasped, recoiling in pain. He didn’t let go. Her pulse beat rapidly beneath his thumb as he wiped away the blood on her neck and scanned her psyche for that unexplained pull.

Nothing. So what the hell was it that drew him to her?

Except for his body’s reaction to her, he could pick up no false reading from her emotional grid. If anything, she seemed wary of him.

He met her suspicious eyes. “This is hardly a come-on. If I want a female, this is the last place I’d take one to for a tryst.”

Color rushed across her cheeks at his blunt words and her gaze lowered. A spark of remorse pricked his conscious. He didn’t care for this feeling of guilt—didn't like being enclosed in this claustrophobic place with its overflowing trashcans. But her essence enfolded him in sunshine. Light. All he’d need to survive. It made him uneasy.

Why would a human affect him this way?

Empyreans didn’t do well when trapped in darkness for prolonged periods. They lost control and became raging beasts…

Reynner shut off those dark thoughts and concentrated on his task. The pale blue light of his healing powers streamed from his fingers and coalesced on the injury. This wasn’t his strongest ability, but he’d do what he could and be on his way.

Her smooth brow puckered. She probably sensed the slight heat from his healing. Her slender fingers grabbed his wrist, barely circling it.

“Look, I'm sure it’s stopped bleeding.” She tugged at his hand. “Thanks for your help.”

The abrasions on her palms scraped across his skin, yanking him back to another place, another time…

His wrists bled, rubbed raw from the manacles. Unimaginable pain shimmered through him, rendering him breathless. His old wounds opened and new ones formed.

“I should thank the bitch-goddess for drugging you first before tossing you my way,” the demoness, Kalinin, said with an avaricious smile. “So rare to have one of your kind in my care.”

“Fuck…you.” His snarl sounded more like a drunken slur.

She laughed, flicking back hair the color of coagulated blood from her pale, frighteningly exquisite face. “That beautiful power, that light, is all mine. Imagine, I can take your blood and revel in the brightness without becoming demonii.” Her laughter spilled out and flayed his flogged skin like broken glass.

And he, the most powerful of his kind, lay there like a fucking statue, unable to move, to fight. While the succubus bitch he’d been trapped with relished in his torture.

Urias, he had to find a way out of this hellhole—had to—

Kalinin smirked, as if she knew his thoughts. “None can escape me, Empyrean…you’ll see.” A taunting gleam lit her malevolent black eyes. “I always get what I want.”

Never! Unmitigated hatred burned his soul and lanced his skull—

“Hey? You okay?”

His grip tightened around the slender throat. The fragile bones beneath his inhuman strength made little impact on him.

The sound of harsh coughing slammed his ears. Frantic fingers clawed at his hands. “Stop—
stop it!”

Fear hit him hard, bringing him back fast. Reynner stared into panicked green eyes and tried to shake off the red haze stealing his mind.

Kalinin was dead—
dead
!

Hastily, he let her go and she stumbled back, hitting the basin. She rubbed her throat, fear and anger welling in her eyes.

He had to get out of here before he totally lost his fucking mind and did the female irreparable harm. The bitch was dead! And still his past continued to haunt him.

Willing her pain into him, Reynner tore out of the restroom like the gateway to Hell had reopened and would haul him back.

A short distance from the club, he stopped and fought to calm down. He’d never lost control like this before. Too many unpleasant memories surfaced. It had to be because of the green-eyed female. Her soft peach-like fragrance saturated his senses and messed with his mind.

He rubbed a shaky hand over his face. A coppery odor drifted to him. Beneath the silvery moonlight, he stared at the traces of her blood on his fingertips. Compelled by some unseen force, he licked the smear…a faint melodious note hummed through his body.

Magic? In
her?

His heart thundered in his ears. Was she the one?

If she could awaken the scroll and locate the Stone—he had to go back. Speak to her. And ask her for more blood. He needed to get a proper reading.

Yeah, right.

After terrifying her, she’d probably knee him in the balls and call the cops. But determination rode him. Despite the unexpected complication of his reaction to her, he would let nothing stand in his way. Saving his fading realm was all that mattered.

***

Eve rejoined her friends, her mind reeling, grateful they wanted to call it a night.

In the cab, she closed her eyes and stroked her neck which strangely didn't hurt. Her thoughts returned to the bizarre episode in the restroom.

The only time she’d ever been more terrified than tonight was when she desperately tried to drag her parents from the burning car wreck so many years ago. Absently, she peeled off the Band-Aid from her fingers. She honestly had no idea what had set the man off. It wasn't as if she’d seen his thoughts or felt his emotions, for which she was grateful…

Eve froze. Her heart banged against her ribs. She’d touched him—
touched
him with her bare hands—and all she’d felt was blessed silence. Not a jolt of an image, a whisper of a thought, not even color. Nothing. Except for his pain that had constricted her chest like a rubber band, before vanishing like it’d never been.

Eve frowned and touched her injured lobe. Even that didn’t hurt anymore. How odd. But darn, she’d lost her favorite earring. She undid the remaining hoop and dropped it in her bag.

No, Kataya was wrong. He didn't fry her brains. But he sure left her with a trembling need for something more. Ugh, maybe she was insane, but the man fascinated her. Dangerously sexy and utterly gorgeous, he looked like he could tear down walls with his bare hands, and yet those big hands had been gentle when he tended to her ear. A shiver raced through her.

Well, that was before he’d wrapped his fingers around her neck in a deathly grip.

Yep. She was definitely certifiable.

***

Reynner scanned the chaotic club for the female with the green eyes, but it was a waste of time. He picked up nothing except a shitload of intoxicated emotions from the humans partying there.

A hand drifted down his back where he stood on the landing. A sweet scent combined with liquor crowded his nostrils. He cut the busty, dark-haired female an impatient look and stepped away. He had to find green eyes, had to know for sure she was the one he sought.

How the hell was he going to do that when she seemed to have vanished right off his radar?

No matter, he would locate her. Besides, she was mortal. How much trouble could she be compared to the wily prince currently living with him, one who had a penchant for roaming mortal nightclubs?

With Aerén’s trigger temper and his immense power, wiping out the city was a sure thing. Michael would definitely kick Reynner’s ass into oblivion. Or worse, make him a Guardian of the human race.

Damn. He wasn't cut out to be anyone’s protector.

Reynner left the club and headed down the alley, rubbing his chest where she’d knocked into him. Warm, feminine, she was—
no
, he couldn’t think about how perfect she felt against him. Something scraped his palm. Frowning, he freed the piece of metal caught on his shirt and stared at the small, gold, half-circle.

Her earring. He ran a thumb around the misshapen loop, lowered his psychic shields, and tried to read her magic on the piece of jewelry. A slight tingle teased his senses. Dark green eyes flashed in his mind and his body hardened again.

Shit, not the effect he wanted. Reynner dropped the earring into his coat pocket when a wavering shape took form beside him, snagging his attention.

“Sire, we have a problem,” the ghostly figure of his houseman said. Izzeri's face appeared paler than usual, his copper hair disheveled, his apparition flickering in the dark alley.

The fact that the male would contact him in this manner meant only one thing. Aerén had taken off again. Dammit!

***

Eve shivered, desire coursing through her blood, her entire attention focused on the glitter of the cool blade trailing down her bare abdomen. Her stomach clenched when
he
glanced up at her from his hunkered position, the dim lights turning his pale hair into a shimmering halo.

At the predatory look in his night-sky eyes, she sucked in a shuddering breath at the raw need he elicited from her. She tugged at her hands, but he’d shackled her wrists above her head to the wall.

“Tell me what you want, Eve.” The husky taunt of her name on his lips stretched her taut nerves further. Arousal burned higher. He was playing with her. He knew what she wanted. For him to touch her, finish this off instead of tormenting her—

“How much longer, Evie?”

Brenna’s voice threw ice water on images that wouldn’t leave her alone.
Christ.
Unfulfilled sex dreams had kept her awake last night, and now they seemed equally determined to take over her day. Eve forced her mind back to her work and off a stranger she had no business dreaming about in the first place.

“Another ten and I'm done,” she told Brenna.

Afternoon sunlight streamed into the warehouse, flashing off the assortment of metal sheets, wire, and narrow steel pipes. She’d rented this place a block from her apartment since it provided the right amount of space. The huge windows made it perfect when she worked, without the need for extra lighting.

“This isn’t like painting, I don’t have to stay abso-still, right?” Brenna flexed her foot where she lay in her underwear on the makeshift daybed near the window. “It’s almost three P.M., Evie. I still have to get home and get ready for tonight. David’s opening, remember?”

“Hmmn, yes,” Eve murmured. She warmed the copper strip she held between her palms then bent the metal and attached it to her sculpture to shape the outline of Brenna’s supposedly relaxed foot, now tapping to the soft strains of Debussy drifting from the CD player.

Of all of Eve’s friends, Brenna was the only one who seemed to sail through life with her ready smile and charm paving the way. Despite the fact that her family had gone back to Scotland a few years ago, Brenna was content. She dated, but never got seriously involved with anyone.

“Are you excited about your showing?” Brenna asked. “The big day draws closer.”

Eve struggled to contain the sudden flutter of butterflies in her stomach. “I try not to think about it. But I sure don’t regret giving up painting yellow ducks on nursery walls,” she said with a wry grimace, thinking of her unsatisfying job as a mural artist and the menial tasks her ex-boss usually dumped on her.

“Well, Eric raves about your pieces he’s seen.” Brenna sat up on the bed. “He’s the owner of a successful gallery and only his opinion counts, right?”

“Absolutely.” Eve smiled at her friend’s loyalty as she ran her fingers over the sculpture. The hum of the metal made up for her lack of human contact, almost like it sang to her. She’d never explained this phenomenon to anyone. They would think her nuts. But it helped her put the parts together. Almost like a musical opus as they formed the fluid shapes she wanted.

The intertwining of copper sheets and wire worked well with this piece. Backing up, Eve studied the fusion of metal that made up the reclining life-size sculpture.

“Being a nude, it looks female—for which I'm grateful—but I don’t see the resemblance,” Brenna said, coming to stand beside her.