Embrace the Desire (2 page)

“I will repeat myself just one more time. Haul your ass back to the sanctuary.” Payne took two steps and looked down at her. He could see, too, that beneath the challenge in her grey eyes, there was an undercurrent of fear, and it unsettled him. “Or I'll take you back myself.”

“Excuse me?” She sputtered and stepped back. “I don't know who you think you are, but I don't take orders from you or from Gyth.”

Narrowing his eyes, he grinned devilishly. “Over my shoulder or on your feet. Which way is it going to be?”

She turned on her heel, took a few brisk steps, and then started to run. Instincts fired in his brain, commanding him to chase. She made it a few more feet before he scooped her up, twisted her, and threw her over his shoulder.

“My way.” He laughed as her fists beat at his back. “Such a pretty little girl out here all by her lonesome. If Damon's minions didn't get you, any number of horrible creatures could have.”

Again, the word “mine” screamed at him from every corner of his mind but he refused to acknowledge it. He didn't have time for such silly notions or feelings. There was simply no place in his life for it. End of story.

“Let me go, you over-sized fool!” She kicked hard and he swatted her backside. “How dare you?”

“Oh, little lady, I dare.” She was light as a feather and much too thin. Despite her fight, he could feel her fear cascading down his shoulders. “As a member of the One Race, you know better than to let yourself be unprotected.”

“Who's going to protect me from you?” Her fingernails cut into his shoulder, her words cutting far deeper.

“Ouch! That hurt!”

She immediately relaxed her grip. “Sorry. But you brought it on yourself.”

“Point taken.”

“Look, I only work at the sanctuary, I'm not living there. Will you please put me down?”

He shifted her and planted her feet on the ground in front of him. He stared her down. She didn't shrink.
Interesting
.

“No one can protect you from me.” He grabbed her wrists, pulled her to his chest. “You only work there?”

“Yes,” She tried to arch her back away from him, but he only pulled her closer, taking a deep breath as he did. “You're a member of the One Race. I can smell it on you.”

Even though her entire body was shaking, she looked up defiantly with a snarl on her lips. “Get your hands off me! How dare you touch me. Gyth will hear about this.”

The woman was infuriating, maddening. . . and sexy, especially when she was pissed. He hadn't wanted to kiss a woman in a long time. Now seemed like a good time.

Payne laughed and flashed a bitter smile. “Tell him I did this, too.”

He backed her up to the black fence that ran around the sanctuary. Leaning in tight, he stared at her full pink lips. When her mouth opened to protest, he took advantage of the moment, pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It wasn't right, for him to take this from her. He knew it.

“Bastard!”

Payne blinked, the stinging impact of her hand and her curse burning straight into his heart. “What makes you think for a second that I want your lips on mine?”

Catching her hands, he stared into her eyes, a fighter's eyes. She didn't even quiver, just simply stared back at him, one eyebrow cocked slightly.

“Well? Don't you think you should let me go now that you've had your fun trying to scare me?”

“I wasn't trying.” He smiled devilishly as he easily manipulated her hands and brought her body flush to his leaning down to capture her lips.

She struggled in this embrace.

She was afraid; he could sense it, but she wasn't about to let on. That aroused him; everything about her did—her smell, the way she tasted of honey and sweet wine. The damnable word “mine” started ping ponging inside his brain, and he stopped dead in his tracks, his lips hovering a scant inch above hers.

With a growl of disapproval he pointed at the sanctuary. “Get out of my sight. Don't ever come out here again. Stay within the shroud.”

She sank to her knees. Her emotions lighting up the air around him. “Oh God, you . . . you demon. How dare you! You had no right to touch me.” She touched her lips.

“A kiss is the least of your worries.” And he meant it on every level possible. He didn't understand what was going on inside his body but he knew without a doubt that this female, this woman, was the cause of it.

Payne crouched on his hunches and looked her dead in the eyes. He was taken by surprise when she returned his look with that cocky little eyebrow raised again. Perplexed by her spunk, he let his eyes devour her. Instead of her shaking in fear, she blatantly copied his action.

Whatever the attraction was that he was feeling, it had to be destroyed, annihilated. He didn't need or want any weaknesses and even though his body was demanding hers, he had to let her go. He couldn't afford to get absorbed into emotions he didn't know how to deal with, he had a mission to fulfill and she wasn't part of it. It was entirely too dangerous for someone like her, someone as good as she was, to get involved with the likes of him.

Compelling her to watch, he let his eyes change. Allowing the “demon,” aka his Destroyer that lay under his skin to come out to play, he let his black irises expand devouring the white part of his eyes. Slowly, he let his double-edged fangs unsheathe, a gift from his father. As they slid down over his bottom lip, she scrambled backwards, her eyes wide with terror.

“What are you?”

His voice warped, twisted, a hissing sound hanging on every
s
. “Didn't Gyth tell you why Destroyers are so good at killing? We're all demons under our skin.” She rolled under the fence and was on her feet before he could count to three. He wanted to chase her, wanted to get her in his arms again, and wanted to kiss those lips. Without looking back, she ran to the sanctuary, ran from the demon that lurked under his skin. And he could only remain as he was, crouched low to the ground, fighting every instinct in his entire body.

As Akhos' slave disappeared with Payne, Gyth gritted his teeth. Cracking the muscles in his neck, he dematerialized sending himself to earth. Knowing that if Payne did not break soon, the world would have bigger problems to deal with, he sent a summons across the earth. He needed players in this game and he had to take the necessary precautions.

Determination raced through his heart. The oncoming events had to be played with precise control and like chess, the king had to be protected at all costs. The queen and her rooks would have to rule the board and corner the opponent's men.

From time to time, Gyth had to take these little excursions with a fair amount of patience, even when they involved the throne of the Heavens. Knowing what future lay ahead, he had to turn the tables. He wasn't going to allow Damon to rise from the Underworld, nor was he going to lose the throne any time soon.

Materializing in front of the Tortured Souls, the bar that served as a sanctuary for his Destroyers, his eyes darkened. If the game was to be played and for his team to have a fighting chance, he would have to make sure that he chose the best of the best to be Chanta's rooks. The bishops and the knights, although important, would have to be probable forfeits in the game as well as the pawns.

His nostrils flared. As much as it dismayed him, Payne was the king in this game and he had to be protected at any cost. True, Chanta was the priceless asset; however, in order to achieve the desired outcome, Payne would have to survive. And the best protection he could give him was sitting at the bar drinking vodka. Gyth's own son, Varick Ta Farg, was the best of the best.

Given the recent events in Varick's life, he may not be a willing participant in the game. With a low grunt, Gyth walked into the bar and met Varick's eyes. No matter how defiant his newly transformed son was, he knew that Varick would never allow any serious harm to come to Payne.

Varick was a god now, his powers restored. Gyth got his eyes full of Varick's appearance. Black trench coat, black cowboy boots, and a black button up silk shirt graced his muscular body. He and Gyth shared common traits. They had the same gold eyes and the same white hair. They both flexed their jaws when angry or upset. Gyth's gaze flickered over the red braid hanging from his son's temple.

The braid was the same as Terror Sky's, the elemental god that served Isten with a faith that defied logic. Gyth had no idea what the braid meant, but he was sure it did not bode well. Nevertheless, Varick would serve the purpose at hand simply because of Payne and their friendship.

Across the empty bar, Varick set his glass down, small sparks of purple flames jumping from his fingers. “Where the hell is Payne?”

“In the realm of the Algea.” Gyth replied, “Either he'll do as I command or he'll be ruined.”

In a flash, Varick was in Gyth's face, his hand wrapping around his neck. “Father or not, if you harm Payne, I'll destroy you!”

“Before you take me on, you'd better learn how to control those god powers. Your threats are empty until you do,” Gyth reminded him. “Remove your hands or I'll have that bastard son of Damon's neutered and skinned alive.”

Varick stared hard at his father and slowly dropped his hand. “What do you want from me? That's why you're here isn't it? To make a bargain in return for Payne's freedom.”

Straightening his robes and trying to keep his anger intact, Gyth followed Varick to the bar. “The female, Chanta Timbers, is entering her Burning. Her destiny is to be protected at all costs.” Gyth gritted his teeth. “You'll make sure that Payne takes her through it and that she survives.”

Varick shook his head. “Payne won't touch a woman. There isn't a woman alive that holds a flame next to Bastilla.”

“That concubine from his past? He still holds that wench in such high regard?”

Varick shrugged. “To each his own. But I'm telling you right now, Payne won't take any female through the Burning. Just isn't going to happen.”

“Granted, Payne wouldn't have been my first choice, but he's the only one strong enough to do this. Your job is to make sure he does his duty and that she lives.” Gyth walked around the bar and poured himself a shot of vodka. “Chanta's destiny and her life is of great importance in the Heavens.
They
will try to take her down as she enters the Burning and her presence is revealed.”

“Then hide her presence.” Varick paused. “You can't, can you? And who are ‘they'?”

“The Angels, an ever-loving thorn in my backside.” Gyth shook his head. “I have very little control over her life. I cannot hide her, I cannot force her against her will, and I cannot interfere with the Burning.”

Suspicious, Varick stared hard at Gyth. “Why?”

For a moment, Gyth wasn't sure he wanted to answer that question. “Because she is an enigma, part angel, part goddess. I cannot interfere with angel affairs, no matter how great or small. Angels are literally another pantheon of their own, one that I do not and cannot control. I can at best only make bargains with them. Its part of the gods-be-damned laws.”

There was a lot more at stake than just Payne's destiny. Not that he cared about what happened to Payne, but Chanta's future was another matter. She had to survive, especially now that her original destiny had been unwritten.

The Angels were always and forever after the throne, especially Chanta's mother. She was the biggest thorn in Gyth's backside and unfortunately, it was of his own doing.

If Chanta didn't survive the Burning, there would be consequences in the Heavens. And Gyth wasn't about to lose the throne. He had forfeited too much and fought too damn hard to simply let Chanta's mother take it.

Gyth swallowed the shot. The bitter, sweet burn lingered in the back of his throat. “I had a deal with the Angels and that bargain cannot be broken. I agreed to let Chanta live as normally as possible on earth—to live as a human, until she turned twenty one.”

“Does Chanta know she's part angel?”

Gyth slowly shook his head. “She understands that she is descended from the gods but she has no idea that her mother is an angel.”

“That doesn't explain why you can't protect her now or hide her here on earth.”

“Chanta Timbers isn't just part Angel.” He watched Varick uneasily as he made his way around to the front of the bar. “She's your sister.”

Varick slammed his fists on the bar. “Then why in the nine hells is she on earth?”

“Angels aren't gods.” Gyth grimaced as Varick grabbed the bottle of vodka from the bar and tipped it to his lips. “When angels are born, they are sent to earth to reside here and learn human nature. And as you know, only full-blooded gods and full-blooded angels can reside in the Heavens.”

“There's more to this, isn't there?”

Gyth nodded and stared into his son's eyes. “Gods make mistakes and meddle in things that they shouldn't regardless of the consequences.”

“What mistake did you make?”

“Chanta was my mistake. I wanted a daughter at any cost. Her mother offered me a bargain and I took it. The bottom line is if she dies, I will lose the throne and the Heavens will fall to the Angels. If I lose the throne there will be nothing to stop Damon from rising from the Underworld and unleashing hell on Earth.”

Varick tipped the bottle to his lips, swallowed, and leaned against the bar. “Does Damon know about her?”

Gyth sat down on a barstool, his legs suddenly feeling like Jell-O. “Damon does have an interest in her. He could have killed her, but at the time he didn't know she was my daughter. Now that she is entering the Burning, all bets are off that he won't figure it out.” For the first time in his long life, Gyth's heart felt heavy. “There's something about her that Damon found irresistible. I was lucky to have found her when I did.”