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Authors: Annette McCleave

BOOK: Surrender to Darkness
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“Did I hear you correctly?” the goddess asked. “Did you say you lost twenty-two of my Gatherers?”
“Yes.”
She rose to her feet and sauntered across the room. “You owe me, Gatherer.”
Brian shifted to put himself between Death and Emily. “I don’t owe you. You agreed to help us protect the relics, and unfortunately tonight there were some casualties.”
Death offered Emily a cold stare, then smiled at Brian. “While I am annoyed at your cavalier dismissal of my losses, I’m not talking about tonight’s fiasco. I’m talking about our deal, Webster. I believe you have something you want to give me.”
“No, I don’t.”
She laughed. “Are you reneging? Do you recall what you bargained for? The soul of one Lena Sharpe? Did you want me to take it back?”
Emily was amazed. She could feel the rage inside Brian’s body—the stiff, tight muscles, the heavy pound of his heart—but on the outside, he looked relaxed and comfortable.
“I did not make a deal for Lena’s soul,” he argued. “I made a deal for her whereabouts. And the price of forfeiture is spelled out in our contract. You can claim another five hundred years of service. That’s it.”
Death grimaced. “Oh, don’t be so difficult. Just give me the shard and we’re done. You don’t need to forfeit.”
“I don’t have it.”
Her gaze returned to Emily. One hundred percent cool nastiness. “But the brat does. Tell her to give it to me.”
Emily squeezed Brian’s arm to stop him from answering. He could not afford to piss off Death—he worked for her. She, on the other hand, had no such problem.
“Sorry,” she said sarcastically. “Not going to happen. This
brat
has a mind of her own, and she’s not interested in doing any favors for an egotistical, power-hungry biotch like you. Take a hike.”
“Give it to me, or I’ll punish Webster for your insolence.”
Worry knotted Em’s stomach, but she plowed on. “Whatever deal you made with Brian is between you and him. I’m not part of it. The shard is mine, and I’m keeping it. Simple as that.”
Death’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing is that simple. Believe me. And you’re going to regret this decision, Emily Lewis. Count on that.”
Something dark burned in the depths of the goddess’s eyes—something that made Em shiver. But handing Death a weapon like the Shattered Halo would be a mistake, no doubt about it. She wouldn’t hesitate to step on Uriel and Michael to get what she wanted.
Shoving her hand into the pocket of her khakis, Em gripped the shard tight. “Hurt my friends and the regret will be yours, not mine.”
Death smiled. Then she lifted her hand, and without fanfare, vanished.
 
Kiyoko tugged Murdoch into his bedroom and shut the door.
“Is this really the best place to spend the night?” he asked, looking around.
There were scorch marks on the floor, walls, and ceiling. The armchair still lay on its side under the window. A number of unidentifiable globs had landed on the floor and the Southwestern watercolor print over the fireplace. The mattress lay half on and half off the bed frame.
“We can sleep in the bunkhouse.”
He sighed. “Perhaps not. Lafleur and Jensen are still tending to the dead.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist. Something she’d previously been able to do only in their dreams. The muscles of his back were as warm and firm as she’d imagined. “I liked Brian’s suggestion of an honor ceremony to commemorate their sacrifice. Very appropriate.”
“Aye, he has the occasional good idea.”
Tipping her head back, she looked in his eyes. “Brian seems to be a good leader, and he’s clearly an excellent warrior. He killed two gradiors. Why do you hate the man?”
“I don’t hate him.”
“You constantly challenge and insult him.”
He smiled wryly. “It’s what the two strongest wolves in every pack do. Challenge each other. He’s the leader, and his job is to take care of the pack. My job is to test him at every opportunity, try to take him down, and press him constantly to prove his worth. If he fails, I take the lead. If he succeeds, he eventually tires of my irritating presence and kicks me out.”
Her fingers played with the hem of his T-shirt. “And is he winning or losing?”
“He’s winning.”
Giving in to an urge that had been hounding her for weeks, she slid her hands under his shirt and up the ropy terrain of his back. “Does that mean you’ll have to leave?”
His eyes drifted shut. “Aye, someday.”
“Where will you go?” She gently traced the scar on his left shoulder blade. She’d spied it there, exactly where she’d known it would be, when he was battling Azazel.
He drew in a short breath, then grabbed her hips and pulled her tight against his groin. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Could you envision living in Japan?”
One eye opened and he peered down at her. “Is that an invitation?”
“Do you need one?”
He smiled. “No.”
“Good. It would be terribly tiresome if you always waited for me to speak my mind. I don’t always say what I’m think—” Her sentence ended on a shriek as he yanked her off her feet, strode to the bed, and dropped her on the mattress.
“I have a good idea what you’re thinking,” he said gruffly, as he buried his face between her breasts. “Because I’m thinking the same damned thing.”
His lips found her throat, and she arched her neck to give him better access. As good as her dreams had been, they couldn’t compare to the heavenly feel of his hard body pressed against hers or the sultry warmth of his breath on her skin.
“You’ll have to prove that,” she said huskily. “I have some very creative thoughts.”
“I’ll explore every one of them, I promise,” he said, nuzzling the tender skin beneath her ear. “But don’t expect gymnastics in the beginning, lass. Give me a chance to show you how well I know the basics. I’ve had four bloody weeks of foreplay, and I’m strung tight as a bow.”
“The basics?” His tongue drew a circle on her skin, and she sucked in a ragged breath. The thrill began there, but quickly rippled out over every inch of her body. Goose bumps rose on her arms.
“Aye.” He tore off his T-shirt and tossed it aside. His jeans followed, revealing a truly magnificent body. Not an inch of spare flesh to be seen. “Me, worshiping you in the traditional face-to-face way so I can savor every ripple of arousal on your face. Me, driving you delirious with delight and myself absolutely mad with need. Me, taking you hard and fast and so completely that you scream your release to the heavens. Those are the basics.”
“I can live with that.”
He pressed her back against the bedclothes with a hard kiss, his hand kneading her breast. There was a little of the berserker in the demand of his lips, in the hungry insistence that she open her mouth to him. And she reveled in it. She loved every part of this man, from his courage and honor to his fervent need to dominate and win. She would forever be grateful that he had claimed both sides of his powerful personality.
Not because that claim had saved her life.
But because the Jamie Murdoch she had glimpsed at the moment of her transcendence was finally a contented man. A whole and united man.
She moaned.
A man who was doing his utmost to prove himself capable of taking her to the stars. With his mouth. On her breast.
Oh, my
. She threaded her fingers into his hair and dragged him even closer.
“Jamie,” she whispered hoarsely, encouragingly.
He halted and lifted his head. “What did you call me?”
“Jamie. Isn’t that your given name?”
He smiled. A slow, intimate smile. “Aye. But no one calls me that.”
“Dika does.”
“Does she? I never noticed.”
“Would you prefer me to call you Murdoch?”
He kissed her chin. Little nibbles that made her belly quiver. “No. I like the sound of my given name on your lips. Particularly when you say it in that sexy, breathless way. Say it again.”
Because she was feeling magnanimous, she did.
Then she wrapped an arm around his neck and drew his lips to hers. It was the first kiss she had ever offered to a man that included commitment. With other men, all she could offer was an interlude, a brief stop on the path to her destiny. With Murdoch, she could open the gate to her heart.
“I love you,” she said against his lips.
“I love you, too,” he answered. This time without hesitation, without a trace of doubt. And her heart fluttered.
“In case you doubt my sincerity, I plan to spend an eternity proving it to you.” His hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pajamas and down to the wetness that waited for him. “Starting right here.”
She arched into his hand, seeking a deeper thrill, inviting a deeper touch, and he groaned.
Surrender could be sweet.
GLOSSARY
dōgi
—Uniform of “the way.” This is the plain white training outfit that Kiyoko often wears.
dojo
—The area in which a “way” (specific art or skill set) is taught and practiced. The way of the
onmyōji
is taught in Kiyoko Ashida’s
dojo
.
futon
—Japanese bedding consisting of a padded mattress and covers which can be folded and then stored away. Since the rooms of a traditional Japanese house often serve multiple purposes, the ability to store bedding is useful.
hakama
—Traditional Japanese clothing, belted at the waist and pleated.
kata
—Choreographed patterns of movements like those used to practice martial arts.
katana
—A single-edged, slightly curved steel sword.
kendo
—A modern sword-fighting martial art based on the ancient sword art
kenjitsu
.
kendōgi
—Uniform worn by the practitioners of kendo.
ki
—Spirit, feeling, or flow of energy.
kimono
—Formal Japanese wrapped garment worn by both men and women with an
obi
around the waist.
koto
—A traditional thirteen-string musical instrument which is the national instrument of Japan.
niou
—A pair of stone guardians that stand on either side of a gate.
nitōjutsu
—The art of using two blades in combat.
obi
—Sash or belt.
oni
—A large red demon from Japanese folklore.
onimusha
—A warrior with an internal demon.
onmyōdō
—An ancient Japanese mystical practice involving divination and other forms of occultism including calendar arts and healing.
onmyōji
—An
onmyōdō
specialist, highly skilled in magic and divination.
samurai
—A military noble of ancient Japanese highly skilled in combat.
sashimi
—Thinly sliced raw seafood, often served with a sauce for dipping.
sensei
—A Japanese title of respect, often used for teachers.
senshi
—Warrior, or soldier.
shikigami
—A spirit summoned by a practitioner of
onmyōdō
.
shoji
—A sliding door or room divider consisting of a frame covered with thin translucent material.
tabi
—Japanese socks with a split for the large toe to permit wearing with thonged sandals.
tatami
—Mats covered with woven straw which serve as flooring in a traditional Japanese home.
torii
—A traditional Japanese gate.
yin and yang
—The philosophy that equal and opposite forces exist within everything and are interconnected.
zazen
—A meditation method that involves sitting in the lotus position with hands cupped.
Don’t miss the first book in the Soul Gatherers series,
DRAWN INTO DARKNESS
Available now from Signet Eclipse.
E
arly Sunday morning, Lachlan decided he was ready to confront Drusus.
Three a.m. seemed a natural time to find a lure demon intent on perverting weak souls, and a dark, foul-smelling alley behind a graffiti-decorated apartment building seemed the perfect place to perform a locator spell.

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