Stormfront (Undertow Book 2) (8 page)

Of course . . . where did this guy come from? I eyed him warily.

As if reading my mind, he shifted slightly where he stood and offered an explanation, “That may have been me. I was hunting and startled a deer. I’m very sorry.” I looked him over carefully. If he had been hunting, where the heck were his weapons?

“Where’s your gun?” I asked suspiciously, straightening slightly. This was not a good situation for me to be in. Aside from the fact that this guy could probably tow my Wrangler with his teeth, being alone with him also reminded me of the night at the beach. A night when I had been caught alone with another big guy – Teddy
Bencourt – who tried to force himself on me.

Panic started to creep into my bones, and I shivered at the memory of being pinned to the sand, nearly unable to draw breath to scream. My visitor must have recognized something on my face, and he stepped back, his hands at his sides. “I left my bow back in the woods. I came running when I saw you fall. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Sure you’re not.
I needed to get the heck out of here.

Now.

Thankfully the silence of the darkened woods was cut with the sound of people yelling my name, searching for me. Porter must have wandered home, hungry for dinner and riderless, which was a sure way to panic a barn full of equestrians. Thank you Porter for your greedy gut!

Thor turned his head in the direction of the voices and I caught a glimpse of something peeking out from under the wide strap of his vest. It was a raised mark – a brand, which looked weirdly familiar though I couldn’t see all of it.

He turned back to me, “I’ve got to go find my things before it gets too dark. Will you be okay?”

I nodded, the sounds of my searchers getting closer. I yelled in their direction and they shouted back. I turned back to Thor, wanting to thank him, but he was already pushing his way into the shadows of the woods.

Even with his wide frame, he soon blended seamlessly into the darkness, and disappeared.

When I got the text that Eil
a
wanted to meet me at Torrent Road, I was instantly worried.

She had never even been to Torrent Road, avoiding it at all costs. For her to meet me there was not a good sign.

To make matters worse, I had been grazed by an arrow while hunting on Sandy Neck. Granted, I was just about to take down a deer, which was no doubt why I got nicked, but archery season had ended. Whoever had the eyesight of a turtle was also hunting illegally.

I didn’t bother tracking him down as doing so would raise too many questions about why I was out on Sandy Neck, wrestling the local herd with my bare hands.

The gash over my bicep would have required stiches if I was human, but my accelerated healing would leave nothing more than a faint line in a few hours. By tomorrow, there would be no line at all and no one would ever know I had been hit – especially Eila, who’d obsess about it. While she took her own safety with little more than passing interest, she had a dogged determination to protect everyone else. I had no desire for her to know I had been hit by a hunter’s weapon.

Mindful of how quickly she would arrive, I bandaged the wound to keep it from bleeding, and changed into a shirt that would cover up the damage. I tossed the bloody shirt into a
waste basket in the corner of my room.

The space Christian had offered me was a large, second floor bedroom filled with dark woods, leather, and brass, as if it was modeled after a first-class room on the Titanic. It had a massive floor to ceiling curved window that looked out over the harbor, though I was so rarely at Torrent Road, I didn’t have much time to admire the view. I suspected that would change now that Mae was more wary of Kian and
me around the girls.

We had been at 408 daily when
Ana and Eila were injured, helping Mae with whatever she needed. But now that the girls were well, our presence meant something else entirely to Mae. Of course, if we told her about the killer shadows who would relieve a person of their soul, she might change her mind about having us around. She would probably still lock up E and Ana though.

While the timing was less than ideal, I was grateful that Eila was finally coming to Torrent Road. If we wanted any time together on any sort of regular basis, I knew it was going to be here, and she might as well get used to Christian’s home.

As soon as I heard the tires of her Jeep pull into the driveway, I headed downstairs and opened the massive entry door. She looked as she always did – stunning, with her wild, dark hair contrasting beautifully against the fair skin of her face. Just her presence filled me with such a rush of longing that it was a miracle I ever left her side at all.

As she stepped from the Wrangler however, I immediately knew something was wrong. She moved slowly, carefully, as if some part of her body was causing her pain. I was at her side in an instant.

“What happened?” I asked, offering my hand as I shut the Jeep door. She waved off my help, however, which was typical of her.

She swore, angry at herself, “I got thrown. Landed on my back. It was stupid.”

As absurd as it was, I was furious at the horse. “Okay – let’s get you inside. Do you think you broke anything?” I prayed she had not broken anything. I couldn’t heal her like a normal human because of what she was, and the thought of seeing her in pain for any length of time made my stomach twist.

“No, no. I think I just have a nasty bruise. I didn’t want to go straight home like this because Mae will instantly be in my face about it. If it’s okay, I just want to hang here for a bit. I think Mae is going out later anyway, to a book club meeting. I will call her from here and then sneak back home when she is gone.”

“Your level of duplicity is a bit alarming,” I said, opening the door to the house for her, but then I paused, scanning the long driveway and the trees that lined the road. I thought I had heard something moving through the brush, but when I looked, all that twitched were the branches in the light breeze.

I kept my eyes scanning the area as Eila stepped inside the towering entrance and paused, taking in the expansive space. I shut and locked the door behind us, brushing aside the sounds of the wind in the trees, and watched as she took in all the details.

Opposite from where we stood was a wall of glass set behind a huge sunken living room, complete with an ornate billiard table and large stone fireplace. A curving staircase climbed up to a second floor balcony that overlooked the entire room and a chandelier that was made of wrought iron and amber glass. Outside, the view captured that of the ferry making its way past one of the channel markers.

“It’s . . .
ummm. Impressive?”

“I’d say ostentatious,” I replied.

Eila looked back at me with a flinty smile on her face. “Yeah, maybe just a little bit.”

She started to unsnap her coat, and I helped her slide it off her arms, as twisting too far made her wince. The back of her navy shirt looked damp and I gently touched the fabric, and then looked to my fingertips. Red. Blood.

“Eila, you’re bleeding,” I said, my stress level jumping higher. She seemed okay, so the wound couldn’t be too severe.

“Are you kidding me?” she demanded, looking down at my fingers. “Well that’s just peachy. I must have landed on a rock or something. Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

“Of course, but I need to check out what maiming you have inflicted on yourself first,” I said, brushing a cold strand of hair out of her face.

She slowly crossed her arms, a pitiful act of being pissed. “I didn’t maim myself. I’m a very good rider.”

I smiled at her, slowly releasing my initial fear that she was badly hurt. “That’s what they all say.” I got a finger jabbed at my side for that remark.

I held her hand as I led her to my bedroom, which thankfully had its own bathroom. Eila could at least get cleaned up in some semblance of privacy, especially if Christian was lurking in the house. Thankfully he traveled often, keeping his massive company functioning. He also kept many homes, including an exclusive Beacon Hill apartment in Boston. Unfortunately, he rarely forewarned us of when he would be aro
und, and this place was so huge that sometimes I had no clue he was inside.

Eila sat down in an upholstered wingback chair near the window and attempted to take off her boots, but bending over
that far caused her to suck in a tight breath. I got down in front of her, and started unlacing them. “So besides your detour to the ground, how was your ride?”

When she didn’t answer me, I looked up to her face. She had a weird, conflicted look to her. “What’s the matter?”

She kept looking at me and her face scrunched in thought, “Are you sure my mark just means I have the ability to zap soul thieves?”

“What?” I asked. I didn’t even know what spurred the question. “I believe so, yes. That’s what the legend says. And Christian called it a kill mark, so I am assuming that we’re correct. Eila – what made you
– .”

“What if it means something else? Or something more?” she asked, her eyes animated, but then her face suddenly looked more fearful.

“You’re freaking me out a little, E. Where’s all this coming from?” I was trying to figure her out. Her sudden fear made me uneasy.

She sighed and leaned forward ever so slightly, bringing her forehead in contact with mine. “I’m sorry. I just was riding and my mind was running with a million thoughts. You and Kian thought I was the only Lunaterra left, but the world is a big place. There may be more of my kind and what if they are hunting down Mortis, like you? Good guys, who don’t hunt humans. We just don’t know.”

All of her points were valid, but the one thing that stood out in my mind was the fact that she called me a good guy because I didn’t hunt humans. That was going to change soon. It needed to change because I needed to be at my best to protect her. Only a human life-force could do that for me. And what if there were more Lunaterra? What if they did find out about E? Would they hunt her down? Attempt to steal her away from us?

Good grief, the sky
was
falling. I needed to pull it together. She was safe with me, and our friends. There had been no Mortis in the area and her ride, aside from her fall, was uneventful.

 
“I’m sorry,” she breathed, her voice causing delicate icicles to dance across my face. “I’m being obsessive. I’m just tired and my back hurts.”

“It’s okay. We all get to freak out once in a while, especially after falling off a horse. How about you take a hot shower, and then I will check you out? I MEAN, check out your back.”

Damn . . .

Eila pulled back from me, but kept her face close to mine. Her eyebrow wiggled upward as she eyed me, knowingly. “Mr. Paris, just exactly what type of a girl do you take me for?”

I didn’t hesitate. “The best type. A one-of-a-kind warrior who is kind enough to be my friend,” I said, trying to fight against the darker memories I had of her.

Eila leaned a little closer to me. “You are far more than a friend to me,” she said quietly. For a moment I saw her again, bleeding on the floor of the coal room. But then the fear slowly gave way as I breathed her in, alive and beautiful in front of me. I could feel the tingle of the Fallen marks beginning to rise to the surface of my skin and I wanted to kiss her, fiercely. My mutinous markings were letting her know it.

She drew a cool finger down my cheekbone, following one of the marks, and a beautiful chill followed the path of her touch. She flashed me a breathtaking smile, “Do these mean you feel the same?”

I grabbed her wrist softly, halting her exploration of my face. Her smile fell away as I spoke, “Never doubt my feelings for you
, Eila. Ever.” My voice lost its smooth quality, roughened by a want I could no longer hide.

I studied her brown eyes, and in them I could see the connection that we had denied each other for too long. In her face was a love that
ignored the darkness that I was, accepting me as a killer and trusting me as a savior.

She bit her bottom lip, and all sane thoughts fled my head. Every decent reason I had for keeping her at arm
’s length vanished, and I gently smoothed her lip with my thumb. She released a shaky breath, causing a fever-like need to shatter the wall I had so carefully maintained between us.

I slid my hand to the back of her neck and pulled her close, admiring the autumn colors of her eyes. “I want to kiss you. I know it is not part of the deal, but I want to. Can I . . .”

Before I could finish my question, Eila closed the small gap between our lips, igniting a riot of sensation that coursed through my body. It was as if the sun finally blazed in the sky after centuries of frozen night, and I took her face in my hands as I kissed my raven-haired angel for the first time in forever. Our lips met gently at first, but the more I tasted her and felt her bewitching burn, the more my self-control frayed.

She ran her delicate hands over my shoulders and down my back, balling the edge of my shirt in her fingers. Small gasps escaped her when I would break from her for an instant to kiss her silken neck and flushed cheeks. Those little sounds she made could kill a lesser man, and drove me absolutely mad, sending me higher than any human soul ever could.

I wanted to feel her, alive and vibrant, and my own hands began to boldly wander, sliding around her waist, skirting the edge of her shirt and her ribs. She slid forward on the couch, forcing our bodies into greater contact, and I forgot myself entirely.

I ran my hands under the hem of her shirt, feeling her graceful lower back slide easily under my palms. Everywhere I touched teased my skin, like icicles drawing along my palms. I pulled her tighter, wanting to feel her electric reaction to my touch
intensify, and I raced my hands up her back. But then she gasped. Really gasped, in pain.

 
Her body stiffened, arching away from my touch and I snapped out of my momentary insanity. “Damn it – I’m so sorry, Eila,” I growled, ashamed I had forgotten about her abused back.

She looked entirely flustered, as if she got caught crawling through the window after curfew. “It’s okay, Raef. Seriously.” She tried to look away from me, rolling her lips tightly together, her cheeks pink.

I turned her face gently back to mine. “Are you . . . embarrassed?” I asked, now worried I went a little too far. I had never kissed her, nor touched her, so recklessly.

A sheepish grin slid up her face, “I think I ignored our rules. Sorry about that.”

“I hate rules,” I whispered, relieved as I kissed her again, softly this time, tracing my lips over the curves of her own. I knew I needed to get up – get away from her for a few moments, otherwise I might never let her leave the room again.

Reluctantly, I pulled myself back to functional sanity, and I left E in my bathroom with a fresh t-shirt and towels. I headed down to the kitchen to find her some food, debating the possibility of throwing myself out into the harbor to calm down. As I turned the corner, I nearly collided with Kian.

“Hey – you’re here,” I announced, which was not the smartest move. Normally I would barely acknowledge him, but Eila’s lips had rattled my brain.