Darkness Arisen (24 page)

Chapter Twelve

He'd never been a sunlight guy, and he'd never been the one to notice the wind on his face or the freshness of the air.

But when their algae-covered boat popped out of the ocean and landed with a splash on the surface of the water, Ian felt like he'd just been granted a slice of heaven.

As the chirping dolphins gallivanted merrily across the sea, dragging the little dinghy behind them, Ian raised his face to the sun. It was warm, healing, and seemed to seep right into his cells.

"Oh, wow." Beside him, Alice flopped back on the wooden seat, throwing her arms over her head and arching her back, exposing herself to the sky. "Returning to the surface after being underwater feels as amazing as coming back to life after being dead." She took a deep breath, her breasts straining against the blue fabric, her flat belly peeking out from under the hem of the shirt as she stretched. "Can you feel the heat of the sun? Unbelievable. It never gets old, does it?"

Ian tore his gaze off her limber body and did a careful inventory of their surroundings. As far as he could see, there was only ocean. Nothing else. Not an island. Not a beach. Not a single piece of land. The only living creatures other than their escorts were a few seagulls circling above. Their rough calls to each other were the only sounds beside the splash of the water against the hull of the boat and the happy squealing of the dolphins.

He sensed no threats. Not at the moment, at least. He let out his breath and looked back down at Alice, who had closed her eyes, as if she were drinking the sun into her very pores. "You look like you're relaxing on a tropical beach."

She grinned and flipped her damp hair back from her face. "I feel like I am." She held up the pearl. "I have a respite for now, and it feels good." She pressed it to her lips, and then carefully zipped it back into the front pocket of her shorts.

Ian looked around again, uncomfortable with how relaxed she looked. "Now isn't the time to relax. We're on our way to deal with a black magic wizard who was one of the most deadly Order members in existence a thousand years ago. The shit's about to come down."

"I know what he is. He killed me, remember?" She stretched her arms above her head. "The thing is, Ian, life is too short. Not only is it brief, but it's full of so many hard things that there's never a time to breathe or recover. So, when you get a moment like this, you have to drink it into your soul to sustain yourself when all that's around you is darkness." She sighed. "I was so stressed down there that I forgot about slowing down and appreciating each moment that I have. This moment is a blessing, and I need to notice it."

Ian looked down at her again, astounded by the expression of serenity on her face. He didn't understand how she could turn it off like that. He knew how tormented she'd been beneath the ocean. Worried about Catherine. Almost dying. Guilty over not being able to help Chloe. Upset about the brands. And it was all gone. Completely vanished. "Where did it go?"

"Where did what go?"

"Your stress."

She laughed softly. "Oh, don't worry. It's still there. I'm just taking a minute to regroup, so I don't crash and burn before I need to."

"By basking in the sun?" Yeah, it felt good, but there was too much to do, too much at stake. He shifted restlessly, needing to do something.

Alice turned her head to look at him. Her dark eyelashes were shading her eyes, looking decadent and innocent at the same time. "Is there anything we can do right now about all this we're trying to accomplish?"

He thought for a few minutes before answering. "No, not really. We're kind of stuck in the boat for the moment."

"Right. So, this is our breather. A gift from the heavens to recharge." She patted the bench beside her. "Join me. Look at the clouds."

"Look at the clouds?" he repeated, unable to keep his disapproval sheathed. "I need to be alert. We could come to Cardiff's at any moment."

"Jada said twenty-four hours." Alice closed her eyes again. "And aren't your senses so overly developed that you could kill a flea with exact precision without even looking where you're throwing your mace? And couldn't you hear a butterfly approach from five miles away?"

He grunted. "Yeah."

"So, you're fine." She patted the bench again. "No one is going to sneak up on us in this ocean with you around. Take a load off, warrior. Recover. This might be your only chance."

Ian hesitated, but she looked so damned appealing the way she was stretched out on the bench. One knee was bent, showing too much of her thigh, and her wet hair was a disheveled mass of auburn highlights under the bright sun. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the scent of sunscreen and piña coladas, and the feel of a beach, of soft sand beneath his bare feet. "Damn, woman, you're making me soft."

She laughed softly. "Nothing could make you soft." She held out her hand and crooked her fingers at him. "Join me, Sir Knight, and see what you've been missing all your life."

He stared at that small hand, inviting him into her world, and suddenly, he couldn't resist it anymore. He called out his mace so he had it ready, and then stretched out beside her on the narrow bench. They were so close that his shoulder was on top of hers, and he had to loop his left leg over hers to keep from sliding off the edge. Casual intimacy, not about sex, and he had to admit, he liked it.

Alice pointed at the sky. "See that cloud? The one in the shape of a poodle?"

"Poodle? Seriously?" Ian followed her glance, and was surprised to see that he could figure out which cloud she was talking about. "Yeah, I see it." He could discern the arrogant head, the fluffy tail, and even a little cloud shaped like a bow.

"Whenever I see a poodle in the clouds, I think it's my mom," she said. "She had a toy poodle growing up and always said that when we got settled somewhere we'd get one. I like to think that she's in heaven now, and when she shows me her poodle, it's her way of saying she loves me."

He remembered the story of how her mother had died without forgiving Alice, and his heart broke a little for her story. "You think she's forgiven you for not saving her?" Her hand was next to his, and on a whim, he slipped his fingers into hers and tangled them together.

She smiled slightly, and her fingers tightened in his. "No, I don't think she has forgiven me," she said quietly. "But I think that's her way of saying she hasn't given up on me. That there is still an opportunity for redemption."

Ian frowned as he rubbed his thumb over the gray circle in her palm. "Why are you so hard on yourself? It wasn't your choice not to save her."

"I know. But I still feel there had to have been something I could have done." Alice sighed. "I'm an angel of life. Even you said that you thought I was too scared to act the way I should."

Ian grimaced at the reminder of the violent lovemaking that had brought his mark to life on her skin. "Yeah, sorry about that. I was a little rough."

"No." She sat up, looking down at him as her hair tumbled over her cheeks, framing her face like a halo of auburn rainbows. "It was beautiful." She touched his cheek, her fingertips so soft. "I've spent my whole life straddling the line between being a stoic, impassive angel, and trying to find meaning in life. I spent hours observing strangers, trying to experience the moments when they fell in love, or felt pain, joy, triumph, and all the other human emotions, and now I've been able to live it myself. As much as it may cost me, and as dangerous as it is for me, that lovemaking was such a gift that you gave to me." She smiled. "Thank you."

He clasped her hand and pressed his lips to it. The smile on her face was so beautiful, so real, that it made him want to show her the world.

"Tell me, mighty warrior," Alice said, her voice teasing as she rolled on top of him and propped her elbows on his chest, resting her chin in her palms. "What kind of childhood spawns a great warrior like you?"

Childhood? They were on their way to take on the man who had cursed generations of his family and killed Alice, yet she wanted to talk about his childhood? But even as he snorted at the idea, it appealed to him, this chance to retreat into simple humanity and connection, like normal people might do.

Alice was right, he wanted this moment. Ian set his hands on her hips, relishing the sensation of her body on top of his. She was so relaxed that her weight was sinking into him, and he loved the sensation of her trusting him enough to let go. "I was an only child. I never knew my mom, but I was really close with my dad."

Alice raised her auburn brows. "That's so ironic. I never knew my dad. My mom was my world. You and I are like twins."

He laughed softly. "Not twins. Maybe comrade souls." He began to work his fingers through the tangles in her hair. "My dad was the eleventh Order member in my family. He was a brilliant warrior. All the Fitzgeralds were. At the time, he and both of his brothers were Order. They were young for the Order, only in their late thirties, whereas most of the team were many centuries old."

Alice smiled, her face contented, as if she were enthralled by the story of Ian's past. "How old were you when you joined the Order?"

He liked her attention. It felt good to just talk. Who knew that there could be such pleasure from this kind of simple interaction? "Nineteen."

"Nineteen? That's amazing!"

Her eyes widened so much that he chuckled. "Now you're making fun of me."

"No." But she smiled too. "Tell me about your dad."

"Great guy." Ian hadn't thought much about life as a kid for a long time. "He taught me to hunt and fish. We spent a lot of time on survival skills and honing my Calydon instincts. Of course, I didn't come into my powers until I was eighteen, but he trained me so thoroughly that I was already tapping into my abilities by then." He grinned, thinking of those times. "Once, I decided he was too serious and conservative, so I booby-trapped the house when he was out hunting. When I got back inside after setting it to wait for him, he was already in there. He jumped out at me and scared the living shit out of me. I screamed bloody terror and ran my ass outside as fast as I could. Of course, in my crazed flight for safety, I triggered the traps I'd set and caught myself in them. He gave me grief about that for years. That incident taught me not to take anything for granted or to assume I'm smarter than the enemy."

Alice smiled. "He sounds like a good father."

"He was." Ian thought back to all those nights in the dark woods that his father had spent teaching him, giving him the tools to survive. "He always thought the curse would take him, so he tried to make me self-sufficient from an early age, so I would know what I needed to do once he was gone." He pulled his hand from her hair and showed her the black onyx ring on his index finger. "This was the ring that the Order gave him when he took his oath. They gave up the ring tradition shortly afterwards, so he was the last one to receive one. He always told me that wearing the ring reminded him of his commitment to the Order. It gave him strength to resist the curse so he could fulfill his oath and honor his family's legacy."

Alice ran her fingers over it, and Ian stiffened, shocked by how right it felt to have Alice touching it so reverently. He'd never talked about that ring with anyone, never told anyone what it meant to him. Why bother? Everyone's response was always disgust, because the Fitzgerald men had betrayed their oaths and honor by taking their own lives.

But not Alice. The look on her face was admiration and empathy, and it made something in his chest tighten. "You get it, don't you?" he asked softly.

"Get what?"

"Get why my dad is worth admiring."

She looked up at him and smiled. "Of course I do. He was a good father, and he taught his son about honor and survival. The curse wasn't his fault." She wrinkled her nose. "Warwick is very powerful. His spells are unstoppable."

Ian was suddenly filled with awe for this tiny woman draped across him. With those few words, she'd given him a gift, the freedom to admire his father and try to uphold his honor. "Thank you." He kissed her once, gently, a kiss of tenderness, not the mad rampage of earlier. Yeah, he still wanted her naked and writhing beneath him, but right then, in that moment, it was a different kind of perfection.

"Why did Cardiff curse your family?" She folded her arms over his chest and rested her chin on them, using them as a pillow. "How'd you get so lucky?"

Ian resumed the untangling of her hair, one cluster at a time. "You know how I told you the
sheva
bond doesn't have a happy ending?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, and I appreciate the reminder now that I have half your mace incinerated on my arm."

He laughed softly and kissed the top of her head, appreciating her ability to laugh about it. Here, in the sunshine, in the middle of the ocean, being towed by dolphins, all the battles they would soon be facing seemed distant and removed. Alice was right. The respite was good. "Well, traditionally, the Order of the Blade's job is to kill bonded males when they go rogue, to keep them from killing innocents. But when it's an Order member who has bonded, the Order kills the mate instead. It's a brutal choice, but the Order is all that can stop a rogue Calydon. Without us, too many innocents will die. Our
shevas
must be sacrificed to save the greater good."

Alice paused. "You did mention something like that before. That's why your teammate killed me the first time?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

She burst out laughing and shifted her head so she could see him. "An apology feels a little inadequate for the fact I was murdered, but I'll let it go." She raised her eyebrows. "How does this relate to Warwick?"

"Pretty simple. He found his
sheva,
and immediately quit the Order so he could be with her. My ancestor, Augustus Fitzgerald, was his closest friend, so Warwick told him what he was doing."

Alice's expression softened in understanding. "So, let me guess. Augustus killed Warwick's woman?"

"Yeah. Warwick was enraged. He was especially angry that his best friend could be so blasé about murdering the woman he loved. Augustus apparently told him to man-up and take it like the warrior he was supposed to be. Warwick was so enraged and felt so betrayed that he cursed my ancestor and all his progeny to suffer the same fate: to meet the woman of his soul, and to lose her. But he didn't just want them to get a freebie by going rogue and losing their minds. He wanted them to suffer, so he cursed them to experience the loss so brutally that they killed themselves." Ian ground his jaw. "And one by one, that's exactly what has happened. I'm the only one left."