Absolute Surrender (48 page)

His jaw tight, Týr headed for the fridge. He grabbed a Red Bull and strode out of the kitchen.

Echo wheeled around to face Kira. “What did I miss? You know Týr?”

“I didn’t realize arrogance had a name.”

At Echo’s astonished look, Kira snorted. “Last night, he ordered me, on my birthday mind you, to get my butt moving if I didn’t want to get into trouble. Made me want to punch him. All because I asked him who the hell they were and what they’d done to you. Then that dark-haired one politely explained they were friends of Aethan’s and you’d left with him. I only left the club because, well, I was worried about you.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your birthday.

“Don’t be, I’ll have another one next year. So, are Blaéz and Arrogance like Aethan?”

Echo blinked.
Arrogance
?

Kira sighed then, seeming to forget her question. “Echo, can I borrow some clothes? I can’t stay like this. My boobs threaten to spill out with every breath I take.” She glanced down at her corset-like top. “A T-shirt would do because I can’t let Hedori take me home looking like a slut. Gran would freak out.”

“Come on. Clothes I can help you with.”

***

“Bastards can never give me a break,” Aethan snarled as his fist connected with the face of a
demonii
.
The fucker had
latched onto him like a blood-sucking leech.

He’d gotten the call when Blaéz had come across a horde of them, trawling the backstreets on the Lower East Side, and found a portal in the alley close to Club Anarchy.

Týr’s snort of laughter cut through the melee of the
demoniis’
guttural roar. “You’re just pissed you had to leave your mate’s bed this soon.”

“’Cause, I can’t rely on you assholes to do a decent job—”

A fist landed in Aethan’s mid-riff and he cursed.

He’d had enough of this shit. He’d no plans on going back to his mate with injuries that rendered him useless. Not when he planned to spend the latter part of the night and the next morning in bed with her.

Caught in a strangle hold, Aethan elbowed the bastard in the sternum, breaking his grip. A roundhouse kick had the
demonii
stumbling back. Streams of red shimmered in the asshole’s hand.

“Fuck no, you don’t!” Aethan summoned his sword and swung it, decapitating the
demonii
before he could attack with his annoying dark-bolt.

“What the hell’s wrong with the Celt,” Týr growled from behind him.

Aethan turned and found the
demoniis
circling Blaéz like damn coyotes while two clung to him. And he just stood there, letting them get their punches in.

Týr drove into them like a bulldozer, slamming bodies out of the way. Dagan materialized in the melee, his sword swinging, as more of the fuckers spewed out of the portal.

Playtime was over. Aethan scanned the alley. Good thing the mortals had scurried out of the place. ‘
Shield.
’

The next moment a white light, contained to just the decrepit alley, rolled out of him like a wave, devouring
demoniis
and spewing out ash as it cleaned the area of evil filth.

It took Aethan a moment to gather himself after expending so much of his power. He found the alley empty but for Blaéz and Týr. Never one to linger, Dagan had already left.

About to take off for the castle, Aethan sensed another presence. He stared at the dark figure in the shadows. “As usual, you skulk about when there’s a fight.”

A’Damiel stepped forward. “Much more fun to watch you lot break a sweat. Besides, my ass isn’t the one that’s been sold into servitude.”

Týr rushed him, like an exploding cannon, and slammed the male against the grimy walls. “You really want to shut the fuck up, right now.”

Before Týr’s fist could rearrange his face, A’Damiel flashed to the opposite side. “Well, entertaining as this is, we need to talk,” he told Aethan. “Echo’s in danger.” And that got the other males’ attention. A’Damiel shoved back his hair, his expression grim. “The
demonii
Andras is on this realm. He’s using a glamor to disguise himself as Lazaar, so he can go after Echo.”

Aethan’s blood turned cold. “What the hell are you talking about?”

A’Damiel pulled an old parchment from his coat pocket and tossed it at Aethan.

The aged paper crinkled in Aethan’s hands as he scanned the contents. “What is this?”

“It’s a prophecy. Andras has gotten hold of an oracle and had the scroll translated. Now he wants Echo. Doesn’t matter that it’s too late and you’ve already bonded with her. He wants control of the realms and he’s going to use her to get that. The shithead wants to prove himself to Dear Old Dad and reclaim his inheritance. His sire’s the Sin of Greed.”

“How do you know that’s what it says?” Týr snapped.

“Unlike you
locos
, I can read. The humans have a great establishment called a school. You should try it.”

Týr snarled. Blaéz grabbed him by the arm, keeping him back.

“What the hell are you?” Aethan asked staring hard at the male. Not many could understand the cryptic writings. But this so-called “spineless” immortal could?

“Echo’s guardian,” A’Damiel said flatly.

Aethan narrowed his eyes. A’Damiel had been just as evasive centuries ago when Seth died. The detached asshole never got involved, except, apparently, where Echo was concerned.

“This is no time to wonder at what has passed and the mysteries of all that is,” A’Damiel said.

Aethan wanted to punch him just on principle.

“Keep Echo safe.”

“You’re just going to walk off and not see her?” Aethan demanded.

“She no longer needs me.” A’Damiel leveled him an unreadable look as his form wavered, then he disappeared.

***

Andras paced the chambers deep in the labyrinth beneath the cemetery on the East River. He turned to the human in front of him. “You’re sure about this?”

Neal nodded. “Yes. I heard her friend say she’s staying on an island off Manhasset Bay.”

“Excellent,” Andras smiled, glad he hadn’t taken over Neal’s mind completely as he usually did with his minions. He needed Neal to still mingle with other humans, to be able to keep an eye on things for him. But once he got the girl, Andras would have to take this little idiot’s mind to complete the last task. He was too focused on her. “You have done well.”

Neal preened. “I get to kill that blue-haired, son-of-a-bitch, right?”

“He’s all yours.”

“And then she will be all
mine
?”

Stupid mortal. Like he’d hand over the prophesized one to anyone. Andras hid his sneer and laughed. “Soon. Very, very soon. But here’s what I want you to do...”

CHAPTER 32

The scroll of the prophecy lay on the desk, like a ticking bomb, dispelling any remaining doubts Echo had had about her destiny. To see tangible evidence of a prophecy relating to her wasn’t a good feeling at all.

The warriors had come in just after midnight, and Aethan had called up this emergency meeting, summoning Michael, who’d been elsewhere.

They all stood, crammed into Michael’s small study, watching her. Any other time that would have made her feel like she couldn’t breathe for the amount of space they took up. Dagan stayed at the back of the room, while Blaéz and Týr stood adjacent to her. Michael leaned against the desk and waited.

Aethan remained near the door, his gaze intent while she paced in front of the fireplace. “Echo?” he said softly.

“I'm okay.” She rubbed the healed scar on her arm and tried to remain composed. “So Andras thinks he can take over the realms by capturing me?”

“Yes. We’ve already come across a shitload of them this evening, searching the streets for you,” Týr explained. “Then we received that.” He nodded to the scroll.

“Who gave it to you?” she asked.

Before Týr could answer, Aethan said, “My contact.”

“I guess I can’t go back to work?”

“Eshana, we are all concerned for your safety,” Michael said. “But you are not our prisoner. Ultimately, the decision is yours. We will work around it.”

Her gaze flickering over to the Archangel, she shoved back her overlong bangs in frustration. She’d been stupid to think everything would get better once she’d mated with Aethan.

“Echo.” Aethan came over and took her hands in his. “About work—”

“It’s okay. I’ve already handed in my notice. I was going to tell you. My boss won’t be happy with me leaving so suddenly.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

***

In the little room she used for her divination consultation and preparation of herbal potions, Lila stared at the scrying bowl in front of her and frowned. The waters had turned cloudy. Uneasiness settled over her psyche. She didn’t like it when her foresight remained unclear. It usually meant a bad omen. She sighed. Tomorrow she’d try again. Rubbing her tired eyes, she rose from her chair and emptied the clear glass bowl of water into a lush green Ficus then stored the glass in her cupboard.

“Kira, dear?” she called out.

Light footsteps sounded in the short hall, before her granddaughter poked her head into the room. Her braids undone, her red hair hung in soft curls around her pretty face.

“Yes, Gran?”

“Can you go to the herbal store in Chinatown? I need a few things.” She handed Kira her list.

“Sure, Gran.”

A few minutes later, she heard the Beetle’s engine rev and the gears grind as Kira took off. Lila smiled fondly. The car wasn’t going to last long under Kira’s care. Good thing Echo didn’t want it back.

She’d just put the kettle on, needing a cup of her special tea to soothe her, when the doorbell rang. Lila headed to the living room and answered the door.

“Yes?” she asked the attractive young man hovering uncertainly on the threshold.

“Hello.” A wry smile crossed his face. “I’m a bit lost.” He turned to look down the road. “I’m looking for Barrow Street.”

“Oh, that’s the next—”

He rushed in and slammed his body into hers, sending her stumbling to the ground. Her head hit the wooden floor and stars erupted as darkness took over...

***

Echo went looking for Aethan. Now that she was officially out of her job, she needed something to do. Aethan had cleared her ex-boss’s memories to say she worked out her two-weeks’ notice. It was the only way.

Maybe she could find out more about her job as Healer. They should have something in that huge library downstairs. Hell, she had no idea if it would help her understand her job better, but it would give her something to do.

She took the stairs down to the lower level, past the elevator, and headed down the cool corridors until she reached the gym. Pushing open the door, the sound of something being brutally pounded filled her ears.

She stopped, forgetting what she wanted to ask her mate.

He wore black cotton Gi pants. His body, rippling with muscles, gleamed with sweat as he hammered at an enormous punching bag then leapt into the air and lashed out with a flying kick, landing agilely on the other side. He paused when he saw her, a smile curling his mouth. “Bored already?”

She wrinkled her nose at his teasing.

“Can I train with you?” The words fell out of her mouth. But it sounded like a good idea.

He grabbed the punching bag before it rammed him in the head. “I was going to wait, give you a day or two before I brought this up, but since you did—it’s a good plan. We need to keep up your training now that you’re no longer at the gym.” He stepped away from the punching bag.