Absolute Surrender (17 page)

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Authors: Georgia Lyn Hunter

Tags: #Thrillers, #Romance, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: Absolute Surrender
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He didn’t say a word when she didn't move, but he hunkered beside the bed and removed the dressing from her arm. He examined the wound, his touch gentle as he pressed the reddened skin surrounding the gouges.

Owww
!
That hurt.
Echo bit the inside of her lips as pain spread from the injury. So he’d proved his point.

He rewrapped the dressing, his gaze leveled with hers. This close, she could see the icy fissures in his eyes.

“Echo, this is important.” He rested his forearms on the bed. “As long as those lacerations are unhealed, you cannot go out unescorted. A powerful demon caused those wounds and he can track you wherever you go while in this condition. And trust me on this, he has probably found a way to get you through the portal by now.”

She gave into the impulse and reached out to stroke his lean cheek. The roughness of his unshaven jaw, the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers, pulled a sigh from her throat. Desire simmered in her stomach.

At his sharp look, she dropped her hand to her lap. Her shoulders lifted in a little shrug. “You’re beautiful—can’t help myself.”

He watched her for a second longer. “Echo, did you hear me?”

“Uh-huh.”

He must be used to women throwing themselves at him. She didn’t care for the thought and tried to focus on their conversation. He’d said something about being careful. Well, she was always careful.

“Whatever happens, even after your arm heals, nights are off limits. Don’t ask me why again. This time heed my request.” His words had a hard bite to them.

If her life was normal, she wouldn’t hesitate about following his advice after nearly being dragged into Hell. But she had a mission to accomplish, a
demonii
to kill before she laid her dagger to rest. Since she couldn’t agree to
that
suggestion, she changed the subject.

“What happened in the subway? I remember the
demoniis,
the portal, and then feeling like someone used a baseball bat on me.” She frowned, trying to grasp onto wispy images. “I felt warm, but...it gets a little hazy there. I thought I saw a white light—” She shook her head, wrinkling her nose. “Imagine, seeing lightning in the subway? Stupid, huh? Guess I must have taken a harder hit to the head than I thought.”

Aethan shifted on his haunches. “You took more than a blow to your head. The white light you saw was me.”

Echo stilled, her fingers squashing the bed linens as her heartbeat sped up. She’d read about people having really strong powers but that was in books, fiction. In reality, she’d come across very few people who were like her. It had been hard but she’d accepted her ability that had caused her so much pain. A small part of her still envied Kira with her gift to change the color of anything. But, it was the first time she met someone with Aethan’s abilities. “You can control lightning?”

“In a way, yes.”

“That’s a powerful ability. People can get hurt...die. Have you ever killed anyone?” she asked him.

 

***

 

Had he ever killed anyone?

Right. Like he was going to answer that question. Ever. He moved to stand. “Rest now, leave the questions for later.”

“Wait–wait.” She laid her hand on his arm. And his body craved more. “How did you find me in the subway?”

“I didn’t. My dagger summoned me. The one you stole from me at the cathedral.”

“I don’t know what you–hey–hey! I object!” She glowered at him.
“You
stole mine first. You didn’t think I would let you get away with it, did you?”

Amusement tugged the corners of his lips at her snippy response, and her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had to shut off the urge to lean in and kiss her.

“You should smile more,” she said softly.

Aethan shot to his feet and moved away. Gods, she was too close, too tempting. He found himself wanting her with an increasing desperation. Her scent, her honeyed skin, made him want to lay her out on the bed and taste every inch of her. He stopped at the fireplace as if distance would rid him of her touch. His need—

“Aethan?”

“What?” Frustration igniting his temper, he turned to her. At her wary expression, he instantly regretted his brusque tone. He rubbed his face and tried for a softer one. “What is it?”

“You–what do you do? What are you?”

He stared at her for a heartbeat.

Your mate
.
The words hovered, demanding to be said. He choked them back. The decision not to claim her was the toughest he’d ever made, but he had no choice. Not when the alternative meant her death.

“For now, I’m the one who’s going to keep you safe. You need any help to the bathroom?”

 

***

 

Echo stepped out of the shower and plucked the bath towel from the rail. Her apartment could easily fit in this stunning bathroom with its dark green marble tiles and trio of elongated windows. But it didn’t hold her attention for long as she thought about the man in the other room. Hastily, she dried herself and searched through the backpack he left on the counter for her clothes. She changed into sweats and a tee and went back to the bedroom.

Disappointment slid to her stomach when she found it empty. Setting her backpack on the armchair in the lounge, she turned, hearing a sound. The door opened and Aethan came in, carrying a tray which he set on the low coffee table. His gaze skimmed over her, no doubt checking to see if she could stand without falling face first to the floor.

Echo couldn’t stop the little tremors rushing through her at his potent scrutiny. Nervously, she scraped back her damp hair.

Jesus, she had no idea why he affected her like that. Granted, she was attracted to him. Heck, who wouldn’t be? The man exuded such visceral sexuality. It seeped into her pores and hummed in her like another heartbeat.

His dark eyes skimmed over the sweats riding low on her hips then traveled up to glide over her form-fitting green tee. Her nipples tightened when they lingered on her breasts. His gray eyes flared in response, but he merely said, “Take a sweatshirt from my closet if you’re cold.”

“I’ll be fine,” she murmured, aware that the goosebumps dotting her skin had little to do with feeling cold. And she had a feeling that he knew, too.

He came over, picked up her arm, and examined the wound. Then he went to the bedside drawer, procured the ointment, and applied it to her lacerations.

Her gaze trailed over him. He’d changed, she realized. Leathers hugged his muscular legs and a black crew neck shirt molded his chest. And he’d tied his hair into a queue.

“You’re going out?” She tried to keep her voice even.

“Yes.”

Dressed the way he was, it had to be to one of those hardcore clubs—

She cut off the thought, dropped her eyes, and tried to ease the constriction in her chest. He hunted
demoniis
. She understood that, but the entire night? And dressed like that? Yeah, right.

He looked ready for a night of debauchery with some woman who wasn’t her. Who’d touch him, kiss him and—

Echo bit the inside of her lip. The pain helped distract her while she waited for him to apply a fresh dressing, so she could put some distance between them.

No such luck.

Tossing the ointment on the table, he led her to the sitting area with a hand on her lower back.

“Eat.” He indicated the tray on the low table. Sandwiches covered one plate and thick slices of chocolate cake another. The thought of eating anything made her want to hurl.

“I’m not hungry.” Ignoring his frown, she turned to her backpack. She’d missed taking her suppressant last night—no, make that three nights. Panicking, she took the hand-sized bottle from one of the pockets. And wondered why she bothered.

The pheromone suppressant helped keep men at bay, so they wouldn’t go into a frenzy and jump her. But the one man she wanted didn’t seem interested in her at all. Oh, he reacted all right, but only when she provoked him.

Echo bit down on her teeth. She’d be damned if she took this potion in front of him. She had some pride.

Pivoting, she headed for the bathroom, only to collide into his hard chest. The heat of his body scorched her. She gasped and pulled back like she’d been burned. His gaze smoldered like a living flame, hot silver, before they blanked out to cool gray.

He took the bottle from her hand, uncapped it and sniffed. “What is this?”

The horrid aroma of moss, and other vegetation Gran must have dug up from beneath a rotting copse of trees, infused the air.

“Nothing.” Embarrassment coursed through her and heated her skin. She held out her hand. At his unyielding look, she glared at him. “My suppressant, okay?”

“For what?”

She didn’t answer, just wiggled her fingers.

He didn’t budge.

She made a grab for the bottle again but he pulled it out of her reach. Her gaze fired in irritation. “Suppressing my pheromones, all right? Gran makes it for me. It keeps anything with a Y chromosome at bay, most of them anyway. I missed three days. Don’t be surprised if you find
demoniis
on your doorstep.”


Demoniis
are drawn to you?”

“Yeah, I got the crap end of the deal when abilities were handed out. Seeing
demoniis
and
having them attracted to you. It doesn’t get better than that.”

His eyes narrowed at her caustic comment.

“I’m allowed to be annoyed,” she muttered. “The suppressant keeps men away, but doesn’t work on demon-kind.”

“And you had no choice but to protect yourself,” he said as if realizing the truth of her problem.

“No. I use my pheromones to lure the fiends, then I kill them!”

“You
what
?” The words exploded in the quiet room. He hauled her to him. “You ever pull that stunt again—” His nose touched hers. “—I will take you so far away, you won’t see the light of day. Understand?”

Shocked, it took Echo several seconds to react. The cool, calm man had become a seething mass of magma. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea revealing that.

She shoved at him, found his grip unbreakable. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

“Everything about you is my business. But go ahead—try me.” There was grim resolve in his gaze.

Echo snapped her mouth shut and dropped her eyes, hiding her irritation. Fine. She’d play the spineless damsel in distress, if it got him to back off.

He let her go.

Snatching the bottle from him, she tossed it in her backpack and dropped into the armchair, fuming. She hoped the
demoniis
came by the hordes and knocked him off his gorgeous ass.

“If
demoniis
follow you here, I’ll take care of them,” he said taking the seat opposite hers. The fragrant scent of coffee drifted to her as he poured the dark liquid into a mug. Handing it to her, he sat back, as if all was right in the world. As if he hadn’t just behaved like a throwback from the Dark Ages who threatened to lock her up in some God-forsaken place.

Gripping the mug’s handle, she did a slow count to ten and let the rich smell of coffee fill her lungs.

“Is that what you meant by wanting to be ‘
normal
’?”

Her gaze shot to him. He nodded to the suppressant in her bag. His question tugged the rug out from under her. A feeling she was becoming uncomfortably familiar with. She couldn’t keep her perspective around him. “Who told you?”

“You did. In the subway.”

And she’d thought it was all a dream. That meant she asked him to kiss her, too. Oh, crap!

What was the matter with her?
Could she humiliate herself any further with this man?

Oh yeah, did that already
!

She bit her lip on the wound, and winced—

“Let me see that.”

“It’s nothing.”

She might as well have spoken to the wall. He got up and parked himself on the coffee table, right in front of her. Trapping her with his spread knees, he took her mug and set it aside. Tilting her chin, he examined her lip then traced a finger over the bruise on her jaw.

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