Absolute Surrender (3 page)

He followed.

Of course, he’d follow. They always did.

She popped free her jacket buttons for easy access to her dagger. The stench of sulfur grew thicker, stronger, the closer he got.

Adrenalin charging through her veins, Echo rounded the rear of the building and headed for the alcove where the statue of an angel with massive wings stood. When he grabbed her from behind and slammed her against the cathedral wall, she sucked in a deep breath as pain jarred up her arm to her shoulder. She twisted around. The acrid odor flooding her nostrils had bile rising to her throat and told her exactly what this thing was.

“Ah, little mortal. So good of you to choose this place—” He stopped, confusion flicking across his face, frowned, and leaned in again to sniff her.

Oh yeah, her cursed pheromones always worked in her favor. They threw them off track and gave her the crucial edge she needed. But the black sludge coating her hands as she held him off told her this one had been wounded.

“You smell different. Must taste.” His tone slurred. Something wet and rough slithered along her neck. Crap! The slimy saliva on her skin sent a shudder of revulsion through her. But she didn’t let that distract her. Once his foul-breathed mouth claimed hers, life as she knew it would be over.

Nope, not happening. She had no plans to die at the hands of this fiend.

“Pity, I have to cut our fun short.” His face cracked in an ominous smile, to reveal pointy canines. “Your light’s mine.”

“If you want it, come and claim it.” The familiar words rolled out of her mouth. Argh, she had to stop watching
Lord of the Rings.
She kneed the
demonii
hard in the crotch, breaking his hold. She spun around, kicked out her leg in a fast sweep, and knocked his feet out from under him. He stumbled to the ground. She was about to go in for what would have been a routine kill, when the
demonii
sprang up. He flung his shades aside and revealed his eyes. Eerily red, they flamed with fury.

“I’ll drain every drop of your blood before I rip out your soul!” he snarled.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He came at her fast. Echo palmed her dagger and met him head on, then went in low and rammed the blade into his sternum. The
demonii
fell to his knees, eyes widening in surprise.

“Didn’t see that one coming, did ya?” Vengeance burned in her as she grabbed him by the hair and slashed his exposed throat, severing the carotid artery. Blood, black and thick, gushed out.

Her breathing harsh, she let the body fall to the ground. Disappointment burned through her. This fiend
hadn’t killed Tamsyn. The stink of sulfur coating her skin lacked the coppery sweet odor of vanilla she was after. No matter. It meant one less evil fiend to roam the streets and rob the innocents of their souls.

The body decomposed and vanished within seconds. No sign remained that the
demonii
had ever existed. The oily ooze on her dagger had disappeared, too, when a frisson shot through her. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose in warning. Oh crap. More of them.

Survival mode on high alert, Echo whipped around in a defensive strike and met steel with steel. The metallic sound reverberated through the cathedral’s garden. The sheer power of the blow vibrated up her hand to her injured shoulder. Pain streaked through her, but didn’t slow her down.

She attacked. He countered.

This one was too strong, too canny. She lunged at him, but he grabbed her in a move which made her head spin and imprisoned her with an ironclad grip against a wall of muscles. It took her a second to realize the stranger had no intention of disarming or hurting her. He merely shielded himself from
her
attack.

Echo glared up at him in irritation. The impact of the man facing her over crossed daggers hit her like a blow to her stomach. She stumbled backward, dragged in a lungful of air. Wild as rainstorms and earthy as sin, his scent crowded her senses. She blinked, sure the vision before her was a fantasy induced by her sleep-starved brain.

He had to be at least six-foot-seven. His long, black leather duster parted to reveal leathers which covered muscular legs. All that black he wore was a perfect backdrop for a wickedly handsome face. The hard, sensual curve of his lips told her he would know every carnal pleasure there was. There was just something too animalistic about him.

The chilly breeze tossed back strands of his long hair to reveal the glitter of small silver hoops in his ears. But his hair—she’d never seen anything like it. As if nature had stroked every shade of the blue spectrum then laid a careless dash of ebony in between those hued strands.

The air around him shifted. Power rolled off him in aggressive waves. But his eyes held her spellbound. Gunmetal gray took on streaks of white, a warning—a caveat, not to attack him again.

Oh yeah, Mr. Goth-man could send out all the signals he liked, she wasn’t easy to intimidate.

“Who the hell are you?” she snapped.

CHAPTER 2

Echo tightened her grip on the dagger. Her gaze fixed on the stranger, who radiated menace, her stance ready for a fight.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

The cadence of his voice startled her. Like a low rumble of thunder, it caressed her senses. A flash of heat zipped through her veins. Crap! Was he trying to seduce her into giving him whatever it was he wanted? It sure as hell was close to working.

She stared pointedly at the obsidian dagger he held. “Yeah, right.”

An odd stillness seemed to come over him at her words, then he relaxed and sheathed the blade on his belt.

Was she supposed to do the same? Too bad for him, he would have to be disappointed. She waved him off with her dagger. “Good. Now, get out of my way.”

There was a slight shift in those cool gray depths. Irritation? Amusement? She couldn’t be sure, not when his expression had the tensility of granite.

He nodded to the spot where she’d killed the
demonii
. “We need to talk about that.”

Echo narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t care how sexy that lightly accented voice of his was. If he thought for a second she was going to tell him how she saw
demoniis,
or killed the fiends, he was doomed for disappointment. People already thought her strange. And for some insane reason she didn’t want him to think so, too. Didn’t matter. She’d never see him again.

“I don’t think so.” She stepped around him, bypassed a stone bench, and was sheathing her dagger when he grasped her denim-clad arm. His touch sent a jolt to her system, like a sharp tingle. It unsettled her.

“That wasn’t a request.”

“I don’t care. You want to unhand me?”

His gray eyes skimmed over her face, ignoring her demands. “It must be a mortal trait, to delve into things best left alone.”

“Mortal trait?” Indignation surging through her, she shoved away from him and knocked into something hard. Too late she recalled the bench. Only her agile reflexes kept her from tipping over and landing on her backside. And the fact that he grabbed her arm. She yanked free and drew in a steadying breath, only to breathe in his wild, cool scent again.

Her eyes rushed to his. He was too close. She couldn’t move, not unless she wanted to crawl up him. Tempting as that was, it wasn’t a good idea. Not when her hormones were shooting down her common sense and waving a white flag in surrender. In a move born out of pure self-preservation, she leaped onto the stone bench to put some distance between them.

“And you have a temper to match.”

Her fist clenched.
That’s it
! She took a swing.

Faster than a freaking rattler he struck, grasping her wrist, his grip gentle despite the unbreakable hold. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Hitting me will gain you more than you bargained for. Trust me, you don’t want that.”

Echo counted to ten, but that crap never worked with her. It took a moment longer before she could force herself to unclench her fist.

“Good.”

At his murmured approval, she tugged her arm free, his touch increasing her uneasiness. But his words disturbed her on an inherent level. As did his dark stare.

‘
Hitting me will gain you more than you bargained for
.’

What did that even mean? The man had her thinking of rumpled sheets, the slide of his gorgeous tawny skin against hers—

She’d finally lost her mind.

This was not good. Not good at all. Echo stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. The moment she touched the stones, calmness seeped through her, as did the futility of her actions. Why did she choose to hop onto this dumb bench? Now she was stuck on the thing, eye to eye with this maddening, beautiful man who made her act like an idiot.

***

Aethan was struck stupid.

It had to be the damn lightning bolts zipping overhead that short-circuited his brain, he decided, studying the female in front of him.

Short, choppy hair, black as a raven’s wing, stood out in all directions. Long wisps fell into her annoyed brown eyes. It was the worst haircut he’d ever seen on a female, but yet it suited her. A streak of color on her cheekbones added an attractive flush to her angular features. Her skin, the shade of golden honey, indicated her mixed race heritage. And she had a lush mouth that begged to be kissed. For a brief moment, he experienced an extraordinary urge to lean down and taste her.

Gods
. He reeled in the desire. Not many caught him unawares, especially not a prickly human. She had to be the one who’d ended the
demonii
. He must’ve been only a few minutes behind the bastard and
she’d
taken him down—killed him. What the hell was she thinking? One misstep and the
demonii
could’ve ended her.

He ran his eyes over her. Jeans covered her slender legs, revealing scuffed leather boots. The deep red sweater she wore beneath her denim jacket did little to hide her feminine curves. She was too fragile to be involved in this dangerous pastime. Someone needed to point out the risks of her reckless activity, and he was more than willing.

He closed the space between them and her subtle scent of sun-ripened berries invaded his senses, intoxicating him. She tried to step back, but being on the stone bench she had nowhere to run. She settled for slaying him with her eyes.

Like that would work.

“Your little hobby will only land you in trouble.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” With an impatient hand, she brushed back the hair from her eyes to reveal a star-shaped scar above her left brow.

So she didn’t want to talk?

“Okay, we’ll do this your way. Whenever you’re ready.” He crossed his arms and waited, ignoring the pull of the wound on his shoulder. He could read nothing off her mind. Her thoughts were walled up behind pure steel. It didn’t matter because none could play the waiting game like he could. Besides, he usually got what he wanted.

“You can’t keep me here against my will.”

“I’m not. You chose to stand up there. I just want answers.”

A low, frustrated growl left her. She made him want to smile.

Nothing in his long life had prepared him for the sensations crowding him. Blood buzzed in his veins and rushed to his head as he faced a female who affected him like no other ever had. He knew he was on a headlong collision with disaster, and yet he remained. Intrigued. Challenged by her.

The wind picked up, rustling the fallen leaves around them, and whipped at her hair. Brown eyes glittered in irritation. Something about her eyes caught his attention, but before he could determine what it was, she turned away.

“You killed some...one,” he told her.

“Yeah? Prove it. Besides, what are you, the Goth cop?” She leaped off the bench and brushed past him, leaving behind a trail of her heady scent.

Goth cop
? That stumped him for a second. Then reality surged through him.
Urias
! What the hell was he doing, playing her game? If she were the female they searched for, he’d have to find out her abilities. With her snippy attitude, he’d have as much luck getting her to admit to that as getting her to reveal how she killed the
demonii
. Not many humans could take down those fuckers, especially not a fragile female.