Tangled Sin (A Dark Realm Novel) (24 page)

He grabbed her by the waist and dumped her on the truck’s seat. His furious face a scant inch from hers. “Do I look like a fucking idiot?”

He banged the door. She jumped. Bit her lips anxiously as he rounded the hood, looking a whole lot dangerous. He got in, slammed the door, and started the vehicle then stepped on the gas. In a squeal of tires, he headed out of the parking lot.

As the Escalade ate up the miles, the silence in the truck grew. Saia glanced at him. Faced with his unyielding expression, she knew how well her suggestion had been received. “Riley, please listen—”

“I searched for you,” he cut her off, his knuckles showed white in the darkness. “I thought those fucking blood-demons had you. I tore through their colony, imagining you hurt, bleeding, and all alone. But you were nowhere to be found. My sire, your guards, none knew where you were.” A nerve twitched furiously in his jaw, it made her wary.

“Riley—”

“Then I came here,” he continued, without giving her a chance to speak. “And what do I find?
My
mate, having a cozy dinner with number twenty-nine.”

The vehicle flew down the wet road. Saia tightened her grip on the seat. At those chilly words, her heart dipped in panic. She’d seen him cold, but not with her. Never with her.

She had to say something. Fast. “It was just dinner, I had no idea at first it was the Haimons—”

“You could have said no. Yet you went, knowing I hated the bastard’s guts.”

He—
what
? She stared at him stunned. “You were jealous?”

His expression took on a murderous light. “I may wear the trappings of humanity, but never forget what I am, Saia. I could have killed him. You have no idea what a bonded male could do when threatened with another after his mate.”

Oh, crap. That’s what Ikaria had meant. He would have destroyed Piers, and she had only herself to blame. She should have known better. “I'm sorry.”

“Oh, no, Saia. Sorry doesn't cut it—”

“
Look out
!” She screamed at the sudden appearance of a figure in the middle of the road.

Riley swerved. Saia grabbed the dash. Tires squealed on the wet asphalt, and they narrowly avoided the man standing there with no concern at his near brush with death. The truck shuddered to a halt.

Her heart thumped hard against her ribs in sheer terror at an accident that could have ended badly. Saia glared at the man, the headlights illuminating him in the swirly mist. The winds snapped at his ankle-length coat and whipped at his silvery hair, concealing his features. Then the strands were tossed back to reveal a visage of icy, masculine beauty. Otherworldly. A demon?

Her gaze rushed back to Riley. In the light from the dash, his features remained impassive as he waited. For what, she had no idea.

“Are you going to speak to him?” she finally asked.

“No?”

“Do you know him?”

“No.”

Then the stranger loped off to the side of the road and vanished into the fog-drenched night. Saia shivered despite the heater being on, her gaze fixed on the spot where the man had disappeared. “Is he a demon?”

“No.”

At his monosyllabic responses, she compressed her lips, hurt that he wouldn’t talk to her.

You did the same when he questioned you.

Yes, she had, except she wanted to keep him safe, despite the fact that he seemed determined to sneer in the face of danger.

It’s who he was, she realized. He wasn't afraid of anything, except…maybe her getting hurt. She blew out a rough breath and let it go for now.

A half-hour later, he parked the Escalade in front of the mansion. She pushed open the door, but he was faster and at her side. He picked her up and set her on her feet. “You can be as mad at me as you like, Saia. I'm not leaving. The stakes between us have changed, or did you forget that?”

Grasping her hand, he headed for the house, thrust open the massive door, and ushered her inside. He shrugged off his coat, then helped her with hers and hung them both in the closet. At his movements, his shirt pulled over his wide shoulders and powerful biceps, revealing the taut lines of his back.

Saia sighed as she watched him. God, she missed so much, missed touching him…but if she didn't send him away, she could very well lose him. “Riley, you have to go back.”

He turned, brow cocked. “Says who?”

“Why are you this difficult?” she demanded. “Your two-thousandth year approaches. Doesn't that mean anything?”

Motionless as her mother’s favorite Apsara wall sculpture, he stared at her. “How do you know—” Then his eyes narrowed in understanding. “Of course. Wrath. He sent you back, didn't he?”

How could she reveal how easily Wrath had broken her? Showing her images of those women with him. She bit her lip, shoved back the pain that would consume her at the reality. Riley may want her, but his dark soul demanded far more than she could give.

“Tell me, Saia. I know that manipulative sonofabitch. My sire lets nothing stand in the way of what he wants.”

She settled for a part of the truth, rubbing the vicious throb in her temple. “He said if I stayed, I’d put you in danger, that you needed to remain in Stygia until the time passes...”

“Or what?”

“Or you’d unleash your newly inherited Sin and cause an apocalypse that would upset the balance of the realm. And the archangels would destroy you—” She grabbed his shirt, fear riding her hard. “God, Riley, don’t you see? I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you, you have to go back.”

An infinitesimal second passed, his expression grew thoughtful. And totally ignoring what she said, he caressed her cheek with tender fingers, asked, “Then why did you leave me? Because I know you, Saia, it had to be something really bad. It’s when you can't handle the pain that you run…” His entire demeanor morphed, became layered in ice. “What else did he say?”

Unable to look at him, Saia lowered her gaze to the buttons on his shirt. “Nothing.”

Footsteps sounded. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the nearest room—the closet. The door shut. Lights flickered on. Locked with him in the cramped place, his tormenting scent undid her. The pain she’d locked away broke free, ripping through her heart once again. She wrapped her arms around her waist.

“It’s not what he said,” she whispered. “But what he showed me.”

“And that was?”

She met those impossibly green eyes. Saw the anger and hurt there. Her gaze misted. “He showed me you with others—women—said even though you'd bonded with me, I wouldn’t be enough. You’d always need more because of your dark soul.” She swallowed and pushed on. “I know you want me, but I won't live a life of sharing you with others.”

He stepped back. The air chilled several degrees. “Is that what
you
think?”

She pressed her trembling lips together.

“Answer me, Saia, is that what you fucking think after
everything
I’ve done?”

She shuddered at his rage. He looked ready to tear the closet apart with his bare hands. Instead, he slipped his clenched fist into his pants pocket, leaned against the opposite shelf and glared at the overhead light.

“I don’t know what to think,” she said in despair. “I know what you said…”

The silence hung thick and heavy between them and battered at her. A minute passed, maybe ten…finally, like a lifetime later, his gaze lowered. Met hers.

“So you chose to believe Wrath”—he shook his head—“it doesn’t matter. Saia, my past was…what it was, but that’s all over now. The soul joining when I claimed you wasn’t for shits and kicks. You are the other half of me, my heart—
my
soul, and all I need. I have no interest in other females. Hell, I wanted you from the moment I saw you stomping about and kicking your car tire.”

“You have?”

He moved, closed the small space between them. “By the dark gods, Saia, I'm crazy about you, don’t you know that? When I came to Liz’s shop, I knew then I wanted more than just your sexy body, I wanted your heart.”

“You already have it.”

He caressed her jaw. “Fool that I was, I fought the best thing in my life.”

Then he kissed her like she was the air he needed. Intense. Powerful. His tongue swept into her mouth, demanding hers. Her heart melted, wounds healing. The floodgate crashed open, thick and molten desire flowed through her veins. Her body trembled with a deep-seated need only he could fill—

“Saia?” her mother called out, pulling her out of her sensual haze “I’m sure I heard her…” Footsteps receded.

Still reeling from his kiss, Saia breathed, “There’s a way to ruin a moment. Mother panicking isn’t a good sign.”

Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Good thing she didn't look in here. Doubtful she’d believe it was innocent…” He stroked her lower lip with his thumb. “Actually, it wouldn’t have been, had she patrolled a minute later. Come, let me go slay your dragons. There are things that need to be said.”

Saia didn't protest when he led her out of the closet toward the living room. And prayed nothing more disastrous would happen. But another war brewed within her. This one terrified her more.

To keep him safe, she had to find a way to let him go.

His anger at his sire barely leashed at the thought of what Saia must have seen, Riley ground his teeth. Wrath probably showed her the debauched encounters in techni-fucking-color. The bastard.

If the tables had been reversed and he’d seen Saia that way—blood roared in his ears at the very thought—he would have turned the mansion into rubble, found those fucking men and killed them, too. Yeah, he was a territorial bastard when it came to his mate.

No, he couldn’t blame her for leaving. But he’d make damn sure she never had cause to think that ever again.

Riley lowered his hand to her waist, her anxiety swamping him like fog, making him aware he had another foe to face.

One thing Riley knew for sure, Jemima would stake him in the balls if she found out he’d already claimed Saia in the elemental way of his kind.

As they entered the living room, the French doors opened, and Edward stepped inside, bringing the cold night air along with a whiff of Turkish tobacco with him. He shut the door, his expression giving little away.

Jemima turned from contemplating the fireplace, her usual stony expression a little strained. She glided over to stop in front of them, about as welcoming as a barracuda. Being so intrinsically linked with Saia, Riley could feel her mentally brace herself for the onslaught.

“Saia, whatever happened, whatever I’ve done, it’s only because I don’t want you having regrets. I know I’ve been hard on you, but I only want your happiness”—Jemima’s expression tightened a little—“we can still overcome this.”

Overcome what? Him? Yeah, like he’d let that happen.

Saia rubbed her temple, then said in a flat voice, “If you're thinking about Piers, mother, it’s not going to happen—”

“Saia,” her father cut in. “Why don’t you go take something for that headache? I want a word with Riley.”

“Daddy—”

“Go, Saia,” Riley said quietly, giving her a little nudge to get her moving. She no longer needed to fight these battles on her own. “It will be all right.”

She inhaled deeply, wary brown eyes meeting his. Then nodded and walked out of the living room.

Riley turned to face his obstacles. He’d been prepared to wait, to give Saia time after all she’d been through in his world, but to hell with all this bullshit. He wished he could just say what his kind always did when they claimed their mates, and it was a done thing
. She’s mine.
But mortals were a hardheaded lot and needed to be convinced with many useless words. Well, he’d do the human thing if he had to.

“Mr. Grayson, I asked Saia to marry me. She agreed.”

Not by a flicker of his eye did Edward reveal what he thought about a demon with his daughter.

Riley didn't care, but made his warning clear. “There will be no more suitors pushed on her.”

Edward straightened from the mantel he’d been leaning against throughout the entire fiasco. “I see.”

Jemima’s furious gaze flayed him, then she squeezed her eyelids shut in apparent defeat. Or probably preparing for annihilation.

Why you?

Riley caught the passing thought. Impossible, this female had mental shields tighter than his sire’s. Hell, but she sure disliked him. He shrugged it off. Saia was all that mattered.

Despite the itch bearing down his spine to get out of there, he waited for his mate’s father to speak. There had to be more. When Edward didn't say anything else, Riley nodded and walked out.

“Edward, have you forgotten what I told you?” Jemima’s low, tight voice drifted to him. “We have to keep her safe. He’s dangerous—”

“Jem, some fortuneteller tells you
before
our daughter is even born she’s in danger—to be wary during her twenty-first year, and you think
he’s
it—he’s the threat?” A long, drawn-out sigh followed. “The boys and I will not let anything to happen to her.”

“Darn it, Edward—”

“Let it go, Jem.”

Well, shit.
She
listened to some two-bit fortuneteller and wanted him gone? Too damn bad.

Riley continued down the corridor. Seconds later, footsteps echoed in the hallway behind him.

Seriously?

He pivoted. Before Edward opened his mouth, he said, “It’s too late. We’ve bonded, and there’s no way—no way
ever
, I will give her up.”

“One question.” Edward pinned him with eyes like sapphire ice, didn't seem impressed by his declaration. At least, he didn't throw his wife’s panic on him. “Did Saia agree of her own free will?”

“Yes, she did.” Riley thought about Saia. He couldn’t imagine anyone forcing her to do something against her will—okay, maybe he’d used a seductive tactic or two to get her to say yes—but he’d been desperate. More, her inner strength had helped her stay alive in the outer levels of Hell.

“Saia is amazing, incredibly tough. Don’t underestimate her.”

“She is my daughter.” There was pride in the male’s statement. Moments later, the steely posture softened a little. “She is a lot like Noah, so I'm not surprised.”

What? Falling for a demon?

Well, hell.
A breeze could have knocked him over. Finally, it all made sense, Edward’s acceptance of him. Noah’s antagonism.

The hardheaded hunter and a demoness? Riley couldn’t wrap his head around that one.

“Two things.” Edward garnered his attention again. “Hurt my daughter in any way, and there’ll be hell to pay. Second, if you decide to give up the bar business, Sentinel Night Services could use you.”

Riley hadn’t expected any less from her sire.

As for his job?
I'm the big bad all the damned ones fear.

No need to terrify his mate’s father with mention of his true vocation. But hell, the last thing he’d expected was an invite into the hallowed halls of Noah’s domain. He couldn’t see the hardass being excited about this.

Sentinel Night Services—SNS—might front as a security firm for humans, but they went after bigger fish at night. Supernatural evil. Riley knew every one of the paranormal slayers in New Orleans. Only a fool would not keep an eye on their natural enemies. Humans could be a vicious and prejudiced lot.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he said instead.

The older man gave him a considering look then nodded. “Good. Now that that’s settled, I need a smoke. Oh, and another thing—”

Riley braced himself for more shit.

Amusement gleamed in the male’s eyes. “Call me Edward.”

That floored him. He stared after the departing man. Shaking his head in wry disbelief, Riley headed for his mate and found her in the glaringly bright kitchen.

One hand lay fisted on the long island counter. Her shoulders slumped as she rubbed her temple with the other. She still hadn't treated the headache.

“Where do you keep your pain meds?”

She glanced up and pointed to a cupboard behind him. He got out the ibuprofen bottle, only to find her turning from an enormous freezer with a quart of Ben and Jerry’s. She took a spoon from a drawer in the island, scooped a spoonful, and ate it, still looking troubled.

Riley set the bottle in front of her with a glass of water. His brow rose. “Ice cream? For a headache?” He turned the tub around and bit back his smile when he saw the flavor. “Chocolate Therapy?”

She nodded, dug out more ice cream, and licked the glob from her spoon, leaving behind a creamy smudge on her lower lip. “It helps with headaches like mine.”

Unable to resist, he grasped her hand and ran his tongue across her lush, but very cold lip, tasting the ice cream smudge.

“Hmm…delicious,” he murmured. A blush spread across her expressive face. Then he sucked the rest from the spoon. Chocolate and bits of cookie melted in his mouth. Swallowing the creamy confection, he set the spoon aside. “You no longer need to worry about your mother, I took care of everything.”

“Is she still breathing?”

“What?”

“Well, when you slay dragons, they die…” A hint of a dimpled smile. It made him want to take her back to his room and not leave for several days. Then the dragon walked into the kitchen.

“Is it true?” Jemima asked, looking like she wanted to physically toss him out of her house. She probably could, too.

Saia expelled a rough breath. “Is what, Mother?”

“That he asked you to marry him.”

Her startled gaze rushed to him.
You did?

Would you have me tell her I’ve already bonded with you?
He leaned against the counter opposite her.
Answer your mother.

Saia bit her lip and nodded.

“And you didn't think to tell us?” Jemima demanded.

“Because I needed to think,” Saia muttered, turning the ice cream container so the label faced her.

Jemima cut him a deadly black stare. She didn't say a word, just walked out.

“This won't go well.” Saia glanced at the empty doorway. “She hasn’t given up.”

“It matters not.”

Riley cared little about the marriage. Saia was soul-joined with him. Nothing and no one could break that. At least, he didn't have to continue watching over his shoulder for Jemima to spring another potential suitor on his mate. That just irritated the shit out of him.

Riley folded his arms over his chest and watched her as she made inroads in her melting therapy.

Something else was troubling her.

***

Saia pushed the ice cream away feeling a little nauseated. The dessert churned in her stomach. Her mother hadn’t given up. She must have a trump card hidden somewhere in her arsenal.

And Riley, he was nearing a dangerous moment in his life, one she could very well lose him to.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice drew her gaze to him. He still leaned against the counter, arms crossed, like he had no care in the world. She glared. “How can you ask me that?”

His brow furrowed. “We’ve covered everything of importance, what else is left?”

Christ. Men could be so obtuse.

The silvery-haired stranger had unsettled her. He’d looked like he could kill with little remorse. “Who was that man on the road?”

“Raphael.”

The spoon dropped from her hand. “The archangel?”

He nodded, didn't seem particularly concerned over the imminent threat. Fear exploded like needles piercing her skin. “Please…please, Riley, you have to leave—have to go back. They’re already watching you.”

He walked across the room, swept her off her feet, and sat her on the counter. “No.”

“What do you mean
no
?” She leaned back in exasperation.

“And leave you in the face of danger? Not happening.” He planted his hands on either side of her hips. “And if I see that weed-smoking idiot hanging around you again, he’s dead.”

“Then I should have done the same to those skanks in Stygia, and the tattooed one for kissing you.” She still wanted to stake Pandora in the heart for that.

“Those in Stygia have been dealt with. Pandora is the past, you know this.”

“But she’ll always be with you. For the rest of your life,” she muttered, thinking about the ink on his biceps. She hated that his ex-lover had left her mark on him.

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Explain.”

“How about I show you?” The fact that he had no clue as to what she was talking about irritated her. She unbuttoned his shirt. His brow rose. Miles of smooth, tanned skin and muscled pecs distracted her. Reaching for the sides, she pushed his shirt down his shoulders and her heart tripped.

He sported more tattoos. Intricate ink travelled from his biceps to his back now. Darker, less colorful, and merged with red.

Pained jealousy cut deep. “You’ve been to see her again, despite knowing how I felt.”

The frown deepened. “What are you talking about?”

“I know what tattoos you have. Now there’s more. Were they so important that you had to see her first?”

Hands spread on the counter, his head dropped for a second, then green eyes lifted to hers, amusement lurking in their depths. “I’ve never been inked in my life.”

Her mouth tightened at the lie. “Then I must be looking at another man’s body.”

His amusement vanished. “You’ll never be this close with another. This is what happens when you're heir to a Sin. They are symbols. All Sins have them. Mine are darkening because I’m about to come into my heritage.”

Relief flooded her, the ice in her heart melting. But faced with those mouth-watering miles of bronze skin, she reached out and traced the strange symbols crawling from his thick biceps up to his shoulders.

“Saia, I haven’t been with anyone since the moment I met you.”

“I know. It’s just that when Wrath showed me those images, it really hurt.”

His mouth tightened. He drew his shirt back over his shoulders. “I'm sorry you got drawn into his morbid mind games and had to see that, but it’s all in the past—”