Absolute Surrender (2 page)

He went over to the female lying on the ground and examined her for injuries. She appeared to be fine. Why were those two dumbasses scurrying off with her, instead of just consuming her soul? He scanned her for a psychic vibe. Nothing. Not even a spark. She didn’t possess the
pyre and rime
abilities he’d been searching for these past few weeks. He’d hoped she was it, and he could get this job over and done with.

He scrubbed her memories of the last hour before he woke her and willed her on her way.

Brief flashes of lightning brightened the dismal backstreet, revealing the tired graffiti decorating the walls of the buildings. His shoulder twinged, reminding him of the injury he sustained last night in a fight with a horde of
demonii
. Ignoring the pain, he headed out of the alley and up the street.

In the distance, opposite Club Anarchy, he saw Týr who patrolled this area. His pale hair gleamed under a streetlight. Once a god from the Norse pantheon, and now a fellow Guardian, Týr might be easy on the eyes, but he was as lethal as the blade tattooed on his biceps. His virulent rage towards demons and their altered brethren, the
demoniis
, was all that kept his jets going. Couldn’t blame the male when he’d been imprisoned in the deepest pits of the Dark Realm for centuries. But judging by the way the females obstructed his path, and the easy grin on his face, Týr had found a way to ease his nightmares—

Unlike him. No matter how many
demoniis
Aethan took out in the name of protecting mortals, his nightmares never ceased.

‘
A’than
!’

He staggered to a halt, his chest constricting at the phantom, childish whisper echoing in his mind. Images flashed before him.

Blood, so much blood.

Aethan squeezed his eyes closed, shutting off the memories.

“You okay, man?” Týr asked, coming up beside him.

Shit! No one should be able to creep up on him like that. Another reason he preferred the vacuum he lived in. He continued up the alley, edginess riding him hard.

“Yeah, fine. Anything on the psychic female Michael wants found?” Aethan really didn’t care for the latest job Michael had dumped on them. Being among mortal females was not on the top of his list of to do things. And far too risky.

At the mention of their leader, Týr shoved his hands in the pockets of his leathers. “Enticing as they are, scanning all the
females in this city for abilities of
pyre and rime
is
not my idea of a good time.” He stepped around a suspicious looking puddle.

“Yeah. Flat on their backs is more your thing.”

“Not just that. Up against a wall, bent over...I’m flexible. Or they usually are.” A smirk rode Týr’s face. “What’s so important about a female possessing powers of fire and ice, anyway?”

“Can’t say. Maybe he just wants to stop her from burning down the city.”

Týr snorted. “Guess when
‘needs to know’
becomes ‘must know’ we’ll be informed. Michael’s too tight-lipped when it comes to shit like this. Who the fuck are we gonna tell? The demons?”

Aethan shrugged. “Maybe Michael just wants to stop a prophecy or some such disaster. It’s the first time he’s thrown a job at us—”

“Without the ritual meet and greet,” Týr finished, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “A prophecy? Damn! It would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

Laughter drew Aethan’s attention to the queue forming alongside the faded graffiti walls of Club Anarchy. This early in the night, the popular nightspot for mortals and demons teemed with party revelers. Beneath the stench of garbage, the faint odor of sulfur drifted to him. He could easily follow the smell to its source, but since it led to the
Otium
demons waiting to get into the club, he didn’t bother. Several of them chose to live among the humans now, preferring a quiet life—unlike their turned brethren,
demoniis
,
who trawled clubs like these looking for their next victim.

“Humans,” Aethan muttered, sidestepping an overflowing dumpster. “Can’t
understand their fascination with danger.”

“Never understood them myself,” Týr agreed. “But the females sure are one helluva temptation.” He shot Aethan a shit-eating grin that didn’t reach his eyes.
“You called one to slake off that edge, yet? Just say the word and I’ll cover your patrol.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah,
rrright
.”

Aethan bit back a retort. He didn’t need the reminder of how close to the edge he was, and worse, that Týr noticed. While he now had total control over his powers, the same couldn’t be said for the restlessness pushing at him. Damn feeling had plagued him for days now. He had no idea what the hell it was.

He reached into his coat pockets and realized he’d thrown his gum away. Shit.

The fight earlier had done little to ease him. A constant reminder why he could never escape what he was. A crack in his psychic shields, and he’d not only flatten the entire island of Manhattan but take every single life with it. Not something he cared to remember.

“I don’t get you, Empyrean.” Týr pulled a pack of M&M’s from his jacket pocket and emptied several into his palm to sort through the colors. “What’s wrong with being with a human? Find a female. Get that power-level down to green. It’s a helluva lot more fun than running your feet to stumps.”

Perhaps. But another faceless person? Another bout of empty sex? His belly roiled at the thought. He’d rather have stumps. “I don’t need a female. I need to find the
asshole
who escaped me
—”

A limousine cruised to a halt in front of the club, snagging his attention. The doors opened to a dissonance of voices, music, and laughter. Males and females stumbled from the car and the acrid odor of illegal white dust floated to him.

Týr popped several of the yellow candies into his mouth. “
They make it so easy for trawling
demoniis
to hunt them.”

Aethan turned away, only to find a female obstructing his path.

She was an incitement for dark pleasures, all right. His gaze skimmed over her. Big breasts, covered in a leather Band-Aid, were teamed with a crotch-short skirt beneath her long coat. Her long red hair fell around her face in wanton disarray. A seductive smile tilted her mouth. Heavy on the cosmetics, her hot blue eyes swept over him with avid interest.

“Can’t hide that angelic shit, after all.” Týr’s annoying murmur rang in his ear. The bastard was enjoying this.

Being an Empyrean, he could do nothing about the way he looked. But if any of the angelic allure his race were born with leaked out, the humans would be unable to resist the pull—the very thought had him tightening his psychic shields. He was the farthest thing from the humans’ concept of an angel. Hell, he didn’t even have wings. So why was he cursed with this crap?

“I’ll tell you a secret.”
The female raised those sultry peepers at him.
“I can see the future. It’s
your
lucky night, handsome.” Her husky voice dropped an octave.
She stepped closer and slowly ran her hand down his chest. Her gaze wandered to the grinning son-of-a-bitch next to him and her eyes gleamed. “Or we could
all
go someplace else...”

Aethan breathed in the scent of her arousal.
A muscle worked in his jaw at the temptation she presented.
He pushed back needs that had no place in his life, scanned her for a physic vibe and found nothing.

“Trust me, you don’t really want me.”
Not unless you have a death wish.

He peeled her hands off his leather coat and sidestepped her. Her gasp of disbelief that he’d turned her down followed him as he headed up the street. These females had no idea how dangerous he was. They might as well stick their finger in a live socket if they thought
he
could give them what they sought.

Týr’s laughter drifted to him. “You’re one stubborn bastard. Me, I’ll take the pleasurable way out.” He shot a quick look at the redhead. “Would’ve been something, nailing her. She was game to be tag-teamed, too. Hell, shield in that cursed power of yours if you’re afraid of hurting her, and we’ll all be good to go. But you’re just too selfish to share.”

Hurt her? Týr had no idea what he was capable of—why he could never take a human as a lover. And his possessive nature was his own business.

He rolled his injured shoulder again, easing the tightness, and paused. A group of teen-thugs with pierced lips stepped in their way, aggression oozing from their pores.

Eyes cool, Aethan returned their stare.

“Sure you want to take us on?” Týr calmly exchanged the M&M’s for his obsidian dagger. At the sight of the wicked looking blade, their heads dropped and they scurried away like rats. “Annoying little punks,” Týr growled, sheathing his dagger on his belt. “So, you gonna go see Lila?”

At the mention of the oracle who treated their
demonii
wounds, Aethan shrugged. “Why would I do that?”

“Stop messin’ around, man. Go see Lila and get that damn shoulder fixed. You can’t leave something that dangerous untreated—”

“I’m good.”

“Well, then...” Týr slapped him on the shoulder. “Good to know.”

“
Gods-damn it
!”
H
e exhaled harshly at the pain blazing through him. “I should incinerate your damn ass!” Even with their quick restorative abilities, lesions caused by
demonii
bolts were the only injury they couldn’t heal fast enough. A real pain in the ass.

Týr laughed and shook his head. Taking a black beanie out of his jacket pocket, he pulled it over his pale hair. “Get Lila to see to you, man, or you’re gonna be direct fucking GPS for the
demonii
shitheads—” Týr broke off, his eyes narrowing. “We have company.”

With his heightened senses, Aethan felt the brush of ice against his skin. The tattoo on his biceps stirred. He could smell the familiar strain of rotting evil that surrounded the wounded
demonii
who escaped him earlier.

Time to end this. “Yeah. But this one’s mine. Later.”

He headed for a recessed doorway down the alley and dematerialized in a scatter of molecules.

***

Echo Carter wrapped her arms around her waist and paced along the top step in front of the well-lit cathedral, trying to keep warm. The tangy sea breeze stung her nostrils as she debated waiting in her car with the heater running on full blast. But trapped in the vehicle for a half hour while she waited for Kira? Argh. She far preferred the cold. It helped ease the dull ache in her temples.

Her head still felt heavy and fuzzy from her restless night. Dreams she didn’t want to remember throbbed in her mind, so she concentrated on a tugboat gliding over the ominous waters of the East River.

The night winds stole under her denim jacket and beneath her sweater like a chilly caress. She readjusted the dagger belted to the side of her jeans, buttoned up her jacket, and slid her hands into her pockets. Her fingers wrapped around the two stones she carried around like a talismans and their warmth seeped into her. But it wasn’t enough. God, she seriously needed a distraction to clear her head and rid her body of the chill.

Her cell beeped. Eagerly, she pulled the phone from her pocket and sat on her backpack, avoiding the cold cement. Only to find it was a text from Damon.

Away on business. Get Kira to stay with you. You know why. Call, if you need me. P.S. Don’t do anything stupid.

She rolled her eyes. Everyone had bad dreams. Didn’t mean she needed a babysitter. Damon’s postscripts, however, never changed, even if his messages did. You’d think she was thirteen, instead of twenty-three and living on her own, the way her guardian hovered.

But she couldn’t blame him. All that mattered to her was finding Tamsyn’s killer and ending the son-of-a-bitch. That had to be the
stupid
thing Damon mentioned.

A man, rushing past her, snagged her attention. Echo turned and watched him skid to a halt. Above average height, this one embodied the perfect male, with bronzed skin, dark wavy hair, and a sculptured jaw. Black shades covered his eyes.

He headed for her, giving her a closed mouthed smile. Well now, she’d asked for a distraction. Sliding the phone back into her pocket, she rose to her feet. She’d deal with this before Kira got back, and she knew the perfect spot for this little rendezvous. With a casual, seductive sway of her hips, Echo tossed him a sultry look over her shoulder and glided toward the back of the cathedral.