Absolute Surrender (20 page)

Blaéz looked up from his meal. “Joining us?”

“In a moment.” Aethan raked a hand through his hair and leaned against the granite counter. He couldn’t put this off any longer.

“There’s something I need to discuss with you. The female here—” He had to force himself to continue and speak of Echo like she didn’t matter to him. “Her name is Echo Carter and there’s a demon after her. He tried taking her through a portal few nights ago. He didn’t succeed. But he scored her arm, so he can track her.”

“Like a
demonii
-bolt,” Blaéz said, pushing his empty plate away. He picked up his squat glass, took a swallow of his scotch. The bruises on his face from the fight with the humans had faded to yellow.

“Why does the demon
want her? Is she psychic?” Týr asked, his expression cool.

The Norse wasn’t ready to forgive him, but he understood their work always came first.

“Yes. And no. She’s not the one we search for. She has no abilities of
pyre and rime
.” Aethan went over, leaned his hands on the dining table, his gaze on Týr. “That night I tracked the
demonii
I wounded?”

Týr nodded, his eyes flat. “I remember. He’s dead, right?”

“Yeah, the bastard’s dead, but I didn’t kill him. She did.”

Týr stilled.

Blaéz stared.

A trace of the old humor flickered in Týr’s gaze. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“It’s how our paths crossed and now this.” Aethan told them what the
demonii
in the Taekwondo studio said.

“So they want the female you protect?”

“And our collect arses, it seems,” Blaéz murmured.

“Well then, good thing she’s here, if they’re coming after her.” Týr polished off the rest of his sandwich.

Hell, it wasn’t the only reason he brought her here. And talking about her pheromone problem to the males was not what he wanted. He had to remind himself that her safety came first.

Now if he could just unclamp his damn jaw, he could get this over and done with. Then he’d ask Blaéz if he’d see to her protection. “There’s something else you should know. Why she’ll always be their target...her pheromones. That crap draws them to her.”

Stunned silence filled the place as Blaéz and Týr stared at him.

“Well now. That’s what it was.” The grin on Týr’s face had Aethan jamming his fists into his pants pockets. That way he wouldn’t be tempted to knock Týr’s teeth down his throat.

He told them the rest. “She uses her pheromones to lure the bastards out, then she kills them.”

“Damn, I was right. She’s a feisty one, all right.” Týr’s chair scraped back. He took his plate to the dishwasher, packed the thing in, then headed for the door. Turning, he met Aethan’s gaze. “Just so you know, she didn’t touch me—she punched me.”

“Why?” There could only be one reason for Echo to do so.

“Asked her for a kiss. She didn’t agree.”

Blood blazed in his veins and shot to his head. Aethan leaped for Týr, only to find himself tethered in place, by Blaéz.

“Get the hell off me!”

But the Celt remained like a freakin’ oak tree. One he was quite prepared to uproot and hack up for firewood.

“He never did share well,” Týr muttered and left.

Aethan lunged after the disappearing bastard. He’d wipe the floor with him. His muscles strained as he tried to break free of Blaéz’s hold, but the Celt’s arms were like steel clamps around him.

“You are your own worst enemy,” he told Aethan. “You want the female? Claim her or let her go—told you to be prepared for the consequences of the path you’ve chosen.”

Aethan finally shoved Blaéz off him, his mind furious with resolve as he dematerialized upstairs.

Had he really thought he could walk away from his mate and not want to kill every male who looked in her direction?

***

Echo paced around the bedroom, eyes narrowing.

Yup, definitely closing in on her. Each time she turned around the walls took another step closer.

She glanced at her cell. Four-oh-seven a.m.

Only a minute had passed since she last looked, like an hour ago? She rubbed her palms over her sweats, headed to the window, and stared into the darkness.

Why did the butler insist she wait until daybreak before taking her back to the city? A cab would do just fine. She wanted to be gone before Aethan got back. How could she look at him and know everything, every look, every touch, had only been in her head.

Stupid, stupid, Echo.
She muttered for the hundredth time.
As if he wanted me.

He’d been clear right from the get-go about only keeping her backside safe. Seemed she forgot that.

A frisson of wariness crawled over her skin. Her heart kicked up speed. He was back. Earlier than she’d expected. Her stomach knotting, she turned.

Aethan watched her from across the room. He still wore his leathers and the black tee. His unrestrained hair skimmed his shoulders now and framed his striking face. He strode across to her.

Faced with the intensity of his gaze, one that spelled trouble, Echo backed away. She wasn’t in the mood for a fight. She picked up her backpack from the armchair. “I’ll wait downstairs.”

He blocked her path. The next second her backpack disappeared and landed on the armchair again. “No. You’re not leaving.”

So the orange-eyed snitch of a butler had ratted her out. Didn’t matter. She’d walk if she had to. “You can’t stop me.”

All she wanted was to get out of here without making more of a fool of herself.

His eyes squeezed tight as if to keep himself under control. “Gods, Echo. Don’t make this any harder.”

Of course, it was her fault. It pained her to admit the truth. “I’m sorry for what happened in here. I–I wasn’t thinking. It’s just the pheromones at work. Once I leave, everything will go back to normal.” She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “You won’t feel this compulsion to be with me, or the guilt afterwards because it wasn’t what you wanted. I know the signs.”

“I don’t want your apology for asking me to stay.” His growl reverberated through the room, startling her. He dragged her to him, and clamped his arm around her waist when she tried to break free. “I want you so damn much.”

His words pierced her heart and stopped her struggling. “What?” Her voice came out in a husky croak.

He didn’t answer, but bent his head and kissed her on her nape. On the same spot were he’d bitten her the first time she dared him. Her body came alive, loaded with sensations at the touch of his warm lips against her skin. A tremor shook her. Her breath hitched. “Why? You–you accused me of going after your friend just a few hours ago.”

“No.” He pulled back to look at her, a tick beating rapidly on his jaw. “I asked if you touched him. I’m sorry for that. I find I don’t deal well with jealousy. Why didn’t you tell me you punched Týr?”

Her mouth dropped opened in shock. “You were jealous?”

“Do us both a favor, Echo, and never test that theory,” he warned.

“Then why did you walk away from me earlier?”

***

Aethan let her go and dragged a hand through his hair, frowning at the shorter length. That question needed to be answered.

“I’m not good for you. But no matter how much I convince myself of it, I find I can’t give you up.” He took a deep breath, hoping it would help settle him. No such luck. “This is your last chance to escape me. Free will, I’m told, is important to mortals. It’s your choice. If you choose us, Echo, I have to warn you it’s not going to be easy.”

She would have to know the truth about him eventually but no way would he risk telling her now. “Or you take another room, and I’ll keep you safe until this threat is over and you can leave.”

It was a wonder he didn’t shrivel up from his lies.

“What do you mean, ‘mortals’?” she asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“I need your answer first.”

She chewed on her bottom lip as she studied his face, and he damn near growled again. “So, I can choose another room?”

Something deep inside him shifted, protested. No matter her decision, he’d let her keep the illusion of choice, but he would never let her go.

Mine.
The word seeped into his blood and embedded in his soul.

“Your answer, Echo?” For a male who waited several millennia for his mate, Aethan found he wanted her ‘
Yes
’ with a desperation that clawed at him. He did the only thing he could. Closing the gap between them, he slid a hand around her neck and hauled her to him, capturing her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss.

The sensation, the taste of her made his head spin. Warm and silky. He could spend hours kissing her.

Her hands fell to his shoulder and he cursed.

She jerked back and her gaze widened with alarm, staring at the blood on her hand. “You’re bleeding.”

Right. He’d forgotten about his wound. “I need to take care of this, and Echo—” His eyes held hers. “I need your answer.” Stripping off his tee, he headed for the bathroom.

***

Echo took a moment to get her breathing under control and tried to focus. How? Why? Moments ago, she’s been ready to leave, and now everything had changed. Aethan wanted her. It all felt like a dream, but she didn’t understand why he thought he wasn’t good for her.

She hurried to the bathroom.

Seeing her, Aethan straightened from the counter. Echo opened her mouth to question him and then simply closed it when no words came out. Every single thought she had dissipated like mist. The man had a body that would make most men slink away in despair.

Rope after rope of sleek, tawny muscles flowed into each other. Banded blue hair no longer flowed down his back, but swept over his shoulders. His leather pants rode low on his hips. He crossed his thick arms over impressive pecs, drawing her eyes to ripped abs. The few nicks and old scars just added to his appeal.

“What is it?”

I want to lick every inch of you.
“Nothing.” She swallowed, since she could do little to temper down her desire. “How did you get hurt?”

He didn’t seem interested in his injuries but hers. His gaze fell on her arm. “Where’s the dressing?”

She wrinkled her nose. “The thing itches, drives me crazy—I’ll put another on before I go to bed.”

He examined the angry red welts of newly knitted skin, and stroked the redness surrounding the injury with his thumb. His gentle touch sent another jolt of desire through her body. “Make sure you do that.”

He turned back to the counter and picked up a brown bottle. Echo spotted the tattoo of a sword on his biceps. She wasn’t surprised he had one. The man had blue hair and earrings. Why not a tattoo?

The inky lines etched into his skin were intricately detailed, almost ethereal. She reached out and stroked a finger down the tattoo’s compelling design. Myriad patterns made up the sword. It was unlike any tattoo she’d ever seen.

Moving in for a closer look, she said, “This sword. It’s different. Why’s it like—” Her gaze fell on his wound and she gasped. “Your shoulder’s really bad.”

Whatever had hurt him had seared right through his thick muscles, leaving a gaping wound.

“What happened? Did the
demoniis
do that?” Her stomach roiled. Nausea shot to her throat at the pain he must feel.

He shifted away so she could no longer see the damage. “It’s nothing.”

“How can you say that? It looks awful. You need a doctor.”

“It’s not that bad. It will heal.” He picked up a cotton gauze, dipped it into the bottle. He angled his body, so he could see his injury in the mirror and started to clean it.

Damn macho male pride.

Irritated, she pushed him down onto the closed lid of the toilet seat. The wound looked like someone stuck a blade through him, sideways. He didn’t seem to care that he could bleed to death.