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Authors: Amanda Bonilla

Lost to the Gray (5 page)

BOOK: Lost to the Gray
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Chapter 5

I made the call the next morning. Saul, the demon bookie, didn’t seem the least bit surprised to hear from me. Perfect. Now to find a high-risk game worthy of my self-destructive state.

“Tough break, eh, Tyler?” Saul drawled in a lazy Southern accent. “I saw your lady once or twice; she’s a hot piece of ass.”

I wanted to tell Saul to shut his fucking mouth before I shut it for him. “Yeah, well, I guess she found a better meal ticket, Saul.”

The sound of Saul taking a drag off a cigarette was followed by a round of racking coughs. I held the phone away from my ear until he finished. “She’s got herself a king now, from what I hear.”

Gods, I fucking hoped not. “Where’s the action tonight, Saul? Whatever it is, I want in.”

“Hmmm . . . let me see now. Not sure there’s any of
your
type of action, Tyler.” Saul was grousing. He knew exaclowntly where the action was.

“Bullshit. Are you seriously going to turn your back on someone who’s thrown a lot of business your way over the past hundred or so years?”

Saul took another drag and choked for a few minutes.
Jesus
. “If you’re looking for a little sport, there’s a Texas hold ’em—”

“That’s not what I want and you
know
it,” I snarled into the receiver, cutting him off. “Like you said, my former sweet piece of ass is keeping royal company now. I want a game where the stakes are high. A fucking poker game isn’t going to get it done. I need to make a fortune. A
king’s
ransom.”

“There might be—”

“Might my ass, Saul.” I let every ounce of anger and desperation I’d felt over the past few months leak out in my voice. “You
know
. Tell me.”

“The buy-in isn’t just a few coins, Tyler,” Saul said nervously.

“You know I’m good for it.”

“These guys, they don’t fuck around. The payout it high, sure, but if you lose. . . . You best be sure you’re willin’ to risk your life over a little tail, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

“Noted,” I replied.

Saul sighed. I supposed it was slightly redeeming that he was reluctant to throw me to the wolves. “I’ll make the call. The game doesn’t come round every night. It circulates a bit. If they decide to invite you to play, you’ll get a text thirty minutes before the game starts. If you’re even a second late, you’re out. And you won’t get another invite. Got it?”

“I’ll be ready,” I said. “Just make the call.”

With any luck, by this time tomorrow night I’d have Levi free of his life debt, and I could finally get the hell out of Seattle.

But the more I thought about leaving Darian in the city with Xander, I wondered if, when the time came, I’d still be willing to go.

* * *

 

What I’d hoped would be a twenty-four hour turnaround dragged out for almost a week. Since I wasn’t about to hole myself up in the tiny, windowless office at The Pit, I decided to put my time to good use. I hadn’t intended to return to my apartment for a while, but I’d left the place in a pretty sorry state.

After I unlocked the door, I just stood in the threshold, leaning against the jamb as I took in the mess. The past four months had been hell. I’d let my temper get the best of me, and the evidence was scattered throughout my apartment. I kept such a tight hold on my emotions around Darian. Even when she’d begged me to let my anger loose, I’d refused. Instead, I’d spent my months of solitude unleashing my anger on the marble countertops and high-end furniture. So very mature.

My cell buzzed, and I almost sighed in relief. Gambling my life away seemed a much better option than dealing with the fallout of the past few months, but when I pulled my phone out of my pocket, the name that flashed on the caller ID wasn’t one I was expecting—or happy—to see.

Raif.

A chill snaked up my limbs and wiy limbsI locked down my emotions before I froze the phone solid. If I didn’t need the damn thing to track down the owner of Levi’s life debt, I probably would have made a cellcicle out of it and called it a day. And, yeah, I could have let the call go to voice mail and ignored the guy entirely, but since Raif kept an eye out for Darian, I figured I owed it to him to at least see what he wanted.

“Raif,” I answered. No point pretending I didn’t know who was on the line. “What’s up?”

“You didn’t have to treat her so harshly, you know,” he said, abandoning any pretense of politeness. “Darian did what she thought she had to do and you abandoned her before she could even try to make amends. What sort of fool are you, Tyler?”

Just what I needed, love advice from someone who’d been a confirmed bachelor for centuries. “Not that it isn’t great to hear from you, Raif.”
Which it’s not.
“But my relationship with Darian is none of your goddamned business. So I suggest you stay out of it before you manage to piss me off.” I wouldn’t have a problem taking my frustrations out on Raif—Darian’s friend, or not.

“Darian is my friend. She’s made sacrifices for me that few before her have ever cared to make. Therefore, her well-being
is
my business. You crushed her.”

My hackles rose at being chided by someone who had no business judging my actions. Did he think I should just sit around and continue to be used at Darian’s discretion, switched on and off like a power tool? Let her treat me as if I were some annoyance that stood in the way of her life? I refused to just roll over like a house pet and show my belly. If we couldn’t find common ground—a mutual respect—nothing I could do would salvage our relationship. “You know, Raif, I don’t have time to be schooled on the art of relationships right now.” It killed me to think that in another week, she’d probably be back to her usual, snarky, pain-in-the-ass self, while leaving her had
wrecked
me. Raif was more than likely overreacting. As usual. “She’ll be fine.”

“You abandoned her,” he said accusingly. The implied “asshole” went unsaid.

“She abandoned me first,” I pointed out.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Raif said with disdain. “Listen to yourself, Jinn. Almost everyone she’s ever cared about has let her down. She needed you, and you left her.”

“But not you, right, Raif?” I was about five seconds away from hanging up on the sonofabitch. “You wouldn’t dare let her down.”

“That’s right,” he said, matter of factly. “Because she’s never let me down.”

Jealousy flared, settling in my gut like a chunk of ice. The residual effects of Faolán’s influence on our bond must have lingered, because the feelings of animosity I felt toward Raif hadn’t completely dissipated. I knew that Darian didn’t have any romantic feelings toward him, but it still stung that he could claim she’d never hurt him. An honor her lover—someone she’d known for years—couldn’t boast. “Look, Raif,” I said with a sigh, “I’m not sure what the point of this phone call is. . . . I think after everything that’s happened”—
acting like a jealous lunatic, busting down your brother’s door, accusing you of trying to steal Darian away from me
—“it might be best if we just give each other a wide berth for a while.

“I know you’re st’ you’ill in the city,” Raif said, ignoring everything I’d just said.
Dick
.

“Where I am and what I’m doing is
my
business and no one else’s. Understand?”

“If you’re worried that I’m going to tell Darian, don’t. I’m not planning to add to her distress. She’s been through enough already, don’t you think?”

We both had. Which was why I’d planned to leave town. We couldn’t keep on going like this: her pushing me away while I fought to hold on. I had to protect my own heart just as much as she did. Not that I expected Raif to care. “I’m only hanging around long enough to attend to some business and then I’m out of here. And I’d appreciate it if you stayed the hell out of affairs that have nothing to do with you. What’s going on between Darian and me concerns two people: Darian and
me
.”

“Very well,” Raif said, as if I was totally inconsequential. Sometimes he really reminded me of his royal, snobby-ass brother. “If you care for Darian at all, though, I suggest you check in on her,
Jinn
. Whether you wish for her to know you’re present or not.”

He hung up before I could answer him.
Yeah, well, fuck you too, Raif
. It pissed me off the way he and his brother talked about me like I was a nasty piece of dog shit on the bottom of their high and mighty shoes. I slumped down on the couch and let all of the tension rolling through my body out in a sigh. Cold breath mingled with warm air, rising in a cloud of steam.

I didn’t want to crush her.

Damn it, I
loved
her.

Leaving her was my only option. Raif just didn’t get it. He couldn’t walk in after barely a year of knowing Darian and say that I’d made the wrong decisions. I’d spent almost six years trying to crack that steel-coated shell of hers. I’d been careful, understanding, patient, and as kind as I could be with her. None of it had gotten through. She couldn’t comprehend kindness because no one had ever been kind to her. Tough love was my last resort. No matter how much I’d wanted to work through our problems, I just couldn’t. The easy way had crashed and burned, and so now, I was doing things the hard way. According to Raif, the hard way had hit Darian much harder than I’d anticipated.

Rather than try to dissect every word of my conversation with Raif, I opted to clean my trashed apartment. Leaving town with the place looking like a hurricane hit it probably wasn’t the best idea. Whereas most of the mess was superficial, there were a few broken items—the marble countertop in my kitchen for starters—that I’d need to use a little magic to fix. If I could manage to be patient enough to work at a snail’s pace, I could filter enough magic to take care of the repairs and not arouse the Synod’s suspicion. It’s not like I thought I’d be in any sort of real trouble for something as trivial as fixing a cracked countertop. The Synod wasn’t
that
uptight. But the rules were pretty clear on using our magic for personal gain and my outburst at Xander’s after Darian left me already had me on the council’s radar. Gambling definitely fell under personal gain. When it came to the Raksasha’s game of chance, you could bet your ass I might just have to use magic in my favor. Whether my acts were sanctioned or not.

I just had to hope that I didn’t get my ass in a sling because of it.

Chapter 6

My apartment looked pretty damn good by the time I left. You’d never know I’d taken out four months’ worth of frustration out on the furniture, cabinets, and countertops. Cleaning up hadn’t erased my embarrassment over my behavior, though. Temper tantrums weren’t attractive, and the fact that I’d let Darian see the evidence of mine made me feel petty and immature.

I’d like to say I self-consciously made the decision to head back to The Pit by way of Belltown. I could have simply used magic to take me to my office in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t habit, though, that guided me down the familiar streets to the former warehouse that was now Darian’s apartment. Raif’s words had been bouncing around my head all night, no matter how hard I tried to disregard them. I had to see for myself if what he’d said was true.

I looked up at the dark, second-story windows. Not a single light betrayed the presence of life inside the building. I could feel her, though. Her life force burned like a star in my soul, tied to mine until she decided to sever our bond. Without thinking, magic trickled through my body and I left my spot on the sidewalk, reappearing inside Darian’s apartment. Another couple of hours, and the sun would begin its ascent, casting the space in dull, gray light. Now, though, the studio was inky in its blackness.

My supernatural eyesight wasn’t hindered by the dark as I made my way toward the far corner of the apartment where the bed was perfectly situated to give her the best vantage point.

Always vigilant. And so, so guarded.

Not tonight, though. An empty bottle of bourbon sat on the bedside table and Darian’s breathing was deep and even. Gods, she’d gotten drunk and passed out. My protective instincts flared, and my anger manifested in an icy breeze at her carelessness. A chill shook her, and Darian drew her body in a tight ball to fight off the cold. I took a deep breath and carefully pulled the blankets and heavy down comforter up over Darian’s body. When she relaxed and began to breathe easily again, the tension in my own muscles released.

It wasn’t like her to leave herself so vulnerable. Careful not to jostle her, I eased down on the bed beside her. She let out a soft sigh and nestled deeper into the covers. A few errant strands of hair fell across her cheek, and I brushed them away, only slightly aware of how creepy it was to sneak into a woman’s apartment and watch her sleep. Apparently, I was looking to add “stalker” to my resume. A sound of contentment slipped from between her lips and I went instantly rigid. That being the one part of my body that had
no business
being rigid at a time like this.

Darian affected me in a way that no woman ever had. And why? Her personality wasn’t especially charming. In fact, I’d known pit bulls that were more agreeable. She was beautiful, with delicate features that masked her fiery disposition, but I’d had my fair share of beauties over the course of my long life. Her damned need for control infuriated me, and the way she buried her emotions made me want to shake some sense into her. Daily. She made bad decisions, cussed like a sailor, ran balls-out into dangerous situations, and her black clothes . . . okay, so I didn’t have any complaints about her wardrobe. She looked sexy in her tight, black outfits. Still, most guys would have cut and run by now.

You did, idiot
.

As she rolled onto her back, I was overcome with an urge to Ch arif">
Ytouch her. Sure, I’d left her. I promised her I’d be back, though. But I’d failed to consider the possibility that she would no longer want me when I finally decided to come home.

Everyone she’s ever cared about has let her down
.

Raif’s words haunted me. Had I fucked up any chance of a future with Darian? Would I ever taste the sweetness of her mouth again? Share a night of passion in this bed? Gods, what had I done? I felt as though a canyon stretched out between us, our many issues separating us. It wouldn’t do either of us any good to pick up where we’d left off. The only way to salvage what we’d begun to build was to bridge that gap separating us.

Right here, in this bed, I’d seen her happy. On the verge of letting of me in. I had that trust at my fingertips, damn it, and it had been stolen from me before I could reach out and claim it. Would I ever get a second chance?

* * *

 

Darian smiled as she wrung the water from her hair. It was the type of smile that made her look so much softer. Almost innocent. Momentarily erasing the jaded edge that cast a permanent shadow on her. We’d spent the day at Pike Place Market, her favorite place in the entire city, mingling with tourists, checking out this shop or another, and eating hum bao down by the waterfront. Seeing her so relaxed . . . it was the perfect end to the perfect day. It made me think our lives could be easy, normal. That we could be happy, removed from the business of death.

“Do you ever get tired of all the goddamned rain?” she asked.

I shrugged. I’d lived in arid desert climates where all you could see for miles and miles was sand. The lush, beautiful green of the Pacific Northwest rainforests had no comparison. “It could be worse,” I said offhand as I hung my wet jacket on the back of the dining room chair. “We could live someplace in the mountains, like Idaho, where it snows six months out of the year.”

Darian shivered and wrinkled her nose in distaste as if she could feel the sub-zero temperatures sinking into her bones. “No fucking way will that ever happen. Can you turn up the heat? I’m freezing.”

It was already seventy-five degrees in her apartment. Any warmer and I’d be tempted to open a few windows. It could be mid-summer with the sun beating down on us, and still Darian would want to be warmer. “You don’t need your thermostat cranked up,” I said, as I crossed the living room. “I can take care of warming you myself.”

With her hands grasping the hem of her shirt, peeled halfway up her body, Darian paused and quirked a brow. My body instantly responded, my cock rising to the challenge in her expression. No woman before her could arouse me with one look. The heat in her eyes was unmistakable, and my heart pumped in my chest at the thought of taking her. “Leave that shirt right where it is,” I warned. “I want to take it off of you myself.”

“Oh yeah?” she said as if she had no intention of letting me do any such thing. “Maybe I don’t want to wait for you to do it. I told you, I’m cold.”

I approached her slowly. Darian stood with her feet planted firmly in place. She thought she was such a badass, but I was going to win this particular battle of wills. She’d be begging me to make love t Co m firmly ino her before the night was over. “Don’t you dare move.” I let a low growl accentuate my words, the sound of a restrained beast. I could sense the bear stirring within me, awoken by Darian’s scent and her unwavering stare. The bear’s spirit was a part of me, a bonus to my magic, the muscle I needed when going up against a staunch foe. A tool for fighting and nothing more. All of us carried an animal spirit within us; a totem, more or less. Mine was feisty tonight, perhaps worked up by the challenge in Darian’s demeanor. Likely the bear felt cheated that he was used so seldom. Maybe he just wanted me to know he was there, ready to play. I wasn’t a shifter, the animal wasn’t inherently part of my physiology, but the animal instinct lived in my subconscious just the same.

Darian must have seen the predatory gleam in my eyes. She didn’t budge. She knew better than to flee from an animal on the prowl.

My eyes drifted to the exposed skin of her flat belly and her muscles tensed in anticipation. I reached out, a feather-light touch against her flesh, and she trembled. “Lie down,” I ordered, glancing toward the bed.

She gave me a petulant look. “Ty, I’m all wet—”

“Lie down.” I cut her off. “Now.”

Her eyes hardened for the barest second. It killed her to be told anything, and doing as I said would drive her crazy. I wanted to throw her off balance, to make her give up control for a change. And damn it, I was going to get my way. A sweet smile curved her lips. I didn’t trust that she’d give in so easily, but she backed up until the foot of the bed stayed her progress and then she slowly sat down and stretched her taut body out on top of the white comforter.

With her arms reaching out toward the headboard, she looked like a sacrificial offering. Darian closed her eyes, that same secretive smile playing on her mouth. “Well, here I am,” she purred, “laid out and ready for you to undress me. Best get busy, Ty.”

The sound of her voice, breathy and seductive, burned in my blood. She arched her back off the bed, teasing, tempting, pushing me to my limits. Under her shirt, her nipples stiffened, whether from the cold or her arousal, it didn’t matter. Seeing her like this: wet, her hair wild and dripping, her body stretched out for me on the bed, it was a visual feast. A meal I wanted to savor.

“Talking wastes precious energy,” I chided as I made my way to the base of the mattress and straddled her leg where it dangled off the edge of the bed. “I suggest you keep quiet to stave off hypothermia.”

She gave a derisive snort, but didn’t dare open her eyes to look at me. I smiled at her playfulness. It was so seldom I could catch her off guard like this. “You know what else staves off hypothermia?” she asked, amusement in her voice. “Body heat.” I leaned over and blew lightly on the still rain-damp skin of her exposed belly. Her breath hitched as goose bumps rose on her flesh. “Mmmm . . .” Gods, the little sounds she made . . . I wanted to shuck her shirt, pants, and everything else hiding her body. It required every bit of self-control I had to slow down and take my time with her.

I knew her game. The reason for her secretive smiles and agreeability. Darian was sure I’d lose control before she did.

Wasn’t gonna happen.

W C se

I grasped her hips in my hands and maneuvered her higher up on the bed. Her chest rose and fell with quick little breaths, the anticipation of what I’d do next obviously exciting her. I eyed her soaking wet clothes, realizing that logistically speaking, peeling them off her was going to be a chore. The nylon fabric had sucked itself to her skin, and since I’d moved her up on the bed, it didn’t give me much room to work. With the shirt, anyway. The pants would be a piece of cake.

As I slowly unfastened the top button, I asked, “What’s bothering you more? The fact that your bed’s getting wet or how long it’s taking me to get you naked?”

“The bed,” she murmured. “This comforter is a bitch to clean.”

A chuckle worked its way up my throat as I slowly pulled down her zipper. “Liar.”

As if she were simply stretching, Darian reached her leg up and brushed her foot against the erection straining against my jeans. “I’ve got this locked down, Ty. You, on the other hand, won’t last much longer.”

Damn it, she was right. I wanted to be inside of her so badly, I doubted I’d make it to her shirt. One look at the soft, pink flesh hidden beneath her underwear and I’d be done for. Inch by inch I peeled her pants off and after I tossed them to the floor, I took her foot in my hands and kissed my way back up her legs. Darian moaned and opened her knees wider. Nope. Not yet. Those underwear were staying put. When I reached the juncture between her thighs, I lightly ran my finger over the fabric, tracing her sex. Darian moaned, arching into my touch once again and I pulled away, moving for higher ground.

“Ty, don’t stop,” she said in a pouty voice. Jesus, she was killing me.

“Sorry, love, as your bound protector, I cannot run the risk of you catching hypothermia. The wet clothes have to come off. It’s my duty.”

“Duty my ass,” she grumbled.

Getting her shirt off was going to be a testament to my ability. The damn wet nylon clung to her like a second skin. I shimmied it up her ribcage, her arms tangling around her. The collar caught on her chin when I tried to pull the garment over her head. She squirmed on the bed, helping to wriggle out, and the sight of her breasts swelling over the cups of her bra made my brain go fuzzy. Her nipples strained against the lace, begging to be freed. All I could think about was taking one of those tight buds into my mouth and rolling it between my teeth. Lust burned in the pit of my stomach, my cock ached at the sound of Darian’s unguarded, throaty laughter as she freed herself from her shirt and unabashed enjoyment of our play. Her happiness was more powerful than any aphrodisiac in the world.

Damn.

She had me. My meager self-control evaporated under her heated stare.

I tossed her wet shirt somewhere behind me. Intoxicated by her scent, her body, the way she looked at me, my brain shut down. I could barely form a coherent word, let alone continue with my witty banter. Two words flashed in my mind like a neon sign: Naked. Now.

Darian’s gaze wandered to my mouth as she licked her lips. It was the last invitation I needed. I crawled up the length of the bed and straddled her, careful not to touch her. She reached for me, her hands trailing over my chest, down my stomach, and lower toward the hem of my shirt. Reaching underneath to stroke my skin, her fiery touch ignited every nerve ending on my body. As she worked my shirt up I lifted one arm, and then the other so she could take it off of me.

BOOK: Lost to the Gray
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