Awaken Me Darkly (24 page)

He operated on his own scale of justice and righteousness. He was a law unto himself. But Kyrin wouldn’t kill an innocent. He’d had numerous chances to kill me, and I was far from innocent. He’d always been careful not to hurt me.

I was ready to talk to him again. I
needed
to talk to him again. But the wall clock continued to tick away the midnight hours without his return.

I
spent several hours prowling through the house, this time searching for clues about Kyrin, about Atlanna. I learned Kyrin had expensive tastes—in everything. Even underwear. He was meticulous and didn’t like clutter, and he left nothing personal out in the open. He was a guarded man. And very smart.

Where the hell was he?

I spent the next hour running up and down the staircase for exercise. Toward the end, my arms grew shaky and my legs burned. Sweat ran down my back, and air singed my lungs. I managed to exhaust myself…and fuel my anger with Kyrin. How dare he leave me here like this, with this damn unremovable armband.

I trudged into the bathroom. The floor tile boasted burgundy and cerulean porcelain, the wall gold-plated marble. The winding, double-hinged faucet cost more than I made in a year. Had I not been a prisoner, I might have enjoyed the extravagance.

After programming the wall unit, I stepped into the shower. I yelped when water, actual hot, steaming water, burst from the pipes. I almost jumped out of my skin, in fact. But as the water continued to rain upon me, I relaxed. It felt so…good. Odd, but good. Soothing. No wonder people used to bathe this way.

When I emerged, I was deliciously wet, my muscles unknotted. A new gown was waiting for me upon the bed, this one crisscrossed pink and creamy white. Pink, for the love of God. Scowling, I slithered my moist body into the ultra-soft material and sank onto the bed. I stared up at the vaulted ceiling. Why me?

Usually I didn’t sleep at night, since I had to be on the street, prowling for predators. I slept during the day. Yet, as I listened to the wind howl outside the window, and heard the branches scratch against the glass, my eyelids began to feel heavy. The mattress was soft…so soft.

Sleep soon claimed me.

Dreams instantly overtook my mind. This time, I saw Dare, only he wasn’t a child. He appeared eighteen, yet his eyes held a fountain of worldly, seedy knowledge that had never been there before. I ran to him. He didn’t open his arms. He turned away from me.

I ground to a halt, my stare boring into his back. Why had he done that? Why had he turned away? He’d never done that before.

His form twisted, and suddenly I was chasing an alien through a shopping mall. A Mec. His skin pulsed green with his fear as he looked over his shoulder at me. He shoved humans aside in his haste to escape. I had my gun drawn and finally had a clear shot. I fired.

Bull’s-eye.

He tumbled down, taking a human female with him. She screamed. And then all went silent. I raced to the body and kicked him aside, intending to free the woman. Her features were frozen. The Mec had stabbed her on the way down.

I dropped to my knees in horror.

“Arise, Mia,” someone in the crowd said, a lyrical vibration in the undercurrents of their voice.

“Kyrin returns soon.”

I awoke with a gasp, my fingers gripping the sheet.

My gaze darted left and right. I was alone. Yet the words
Kyrin returns soon
still rang in my ears.

Confusion consumed me as my dreams replayed in my mind. First, Dare rejected me. Then my vision spoke directly to me. Both were new occurrences, and I didn’t know what to make of either of them.

At least, if Dream Mia was to be believed, Kyrin was alive and well and due here at any moment.

I shoved my way from the bed, dislodging my limbs from the tangle of linens. When my feet hit the carpet, I glanced down and frowned with distaste. I still wore the pink gown; the flimsy thing hadn’t magically disappeared. Turning in every direction, I blinked at my image in the wall mirror. I looked too feminine, like I was weak and incapable and needed a big strong man to take care of me. I much preferred my huntress slacks and top. And boots. God, I loved my boots. Ass-kicking wasn’t much fun in anything else.

I sailed past the bedroom entrance, down the polished stair-case, and into the kitchen, where the sweet scent of caffeine greeted me. Several Arcadian servants, both male and female, flittered about with morning chores. All but one sped from the room after spotting me.

“Coffee,” I said to the remaining woman. I plopped onto a waiting barstool. “I need coffee.”

“I get. I get for you,” she said. She possessed the white hair and purple eyes common to her kind, yet she lacked the grace and facial beauty I’d seen in the others. She offered me a soft smile. “You like sugar?”

“You have real sugar?”

“Yes.”

I usually took it as thick as motor oil, but I couldn’t resist real sugar. “Make it half and half, then.

Half coffee. Half sugar.”

She nodded her approval and dried her hands on her gauzy apron. “Glennie like hers that way, too.”

Pensive, I tilted my chin and watched her bustle about, shuffling through cabinets, lifting a crystal pitcher. My ears perked as she hummed a song under her breath. Here was an alien who didn’t cower in fear at my very presence. She appeared calm, relaxed even. Unconcerned.

“Mind if I ask you a few questions, Glennie?”

“Ask, ask,” she said. “I glad to answer.”

“How long have you known Kyrin?”

“Oh, I do not know,” she said, steam wafting around her as she poured my drink into a plain black mug. “Long time. By your standards, at least.”

When she handed me the fragrant liquid, I gratefully laced my fingers around the offering. I allowed myself a tentative sip. Perfect, and so deliciously sweet. Not too hot, not too cold. I sucked down the rest. If I’d been alone, I would have licked the cup clean.

“Exactly how long?” I probed.

Turning back to her duties, she lifted her strong shoulders in a shrug. “Fifty years, I guess.”

I nearly choked from fluid inhalation and pushed my cup aside. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, no. I never kidding.”

I’d known the Arcadians stopped aging physically after a certain point in their lives, but actually hearing the words
fifty years
associated with the virile-looking Kyrin astounded my mind. The man who had kissed me so passionately was…what? Eighty years old? Ninety?

“How old is he?” I asked.

Again, the servant shrugged. “Three hundred Earth years would be my guess.”

My jaw dropped. Three hundred fucking years old. I was attracted to a man, had kissed a man, who should have needed diapers and calcium supplements.

Why was I even surprised? I wondered next. Of course I’d fall for a guy like that. I’d never lived a normal life. Why start now?

“Does he treat you well?” I asked.

Slivers of awareness stroked the back of my neck, and tingles prickled along my spine. A low heat kindled deep in my belly. A palpable surge of relief and desire swept me. The coffee mug shook in my hands as I resisted the urge to spin around.

Kyrin had returned.

How could I long to kiss him and choke him at the same time?

Unaware, or unconcerned, Glennie kept her back to me, to Kyrin. She clasped a rag in her hand and continued to scrub the counter clean. “He is a true Arcadian,” she answered. “Proud, honorable.

Courageous. He treat me very well.”

“Of course,” I said, gauging her reaction through my lashes, “you could be saying that because he’

s your boss.”

“Bah.” Facing me, she leaned against the gleaming silver surface. “He bring us here when he no have to. He could have leave us in Arcadia, slave to Atlanna.” She shuddered, her expression tight with fear. “Yet he fight for us, and bring us through the world-portals.”

While I, the Angel of Death, caused not a spark of worry in this servant, the thought of Atlanna had her trembling. “Was
he
a slave to the mighty Atlanna?” He was royalty according to Lilla, but could have been under Atlanna’s spell.

“That is enough,” Kyrin said, his voice as warm and rich as I remembered. Glennie hustled back to her duties.

Slowly, I turned. His hair fell in tangled disarray about his shoulders, and his clothing was dirty and wrinkled. I’d never seen him so disheveled. I…liked it. Made him sexy and raw. Made me want to make him dirtier.

“Where were you?” I said, punctuating each word.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What did you do while I was gone? Were you a good girl?”

“Listen, Grandpa,” I said, pointing a finger in his direction. “You don’t want to irritate me today.

After leaving me here without telling me where you were going or what you were doing, you’re at the top of my shit list.”

“Among other things, I visited Dallas,” he said.

“I—” My lips clamped together, and I shook my head. Surely I had misheard. “What did you say?”

“I visited Dallas.”

I shot to my feet and raced toward him. “What happened? How is he?” The words snagged in my throat, emerging broken and unsure.

He clasped my hand in his, his palm warm and soothing. “Close your eyes and let me show you.”

I didn’t question him. This was too important. I simply obeyed.

The moment darkness folded over my eyes, images flashed through my mind.

Kyrin strode down a long, narrow hallway. There were nurses about, but no one paid him
any heed. They couldn’t see him. He moved too quickly, like a human bullet. He slipped inside
Dallas’s room and removed the oxygen mask from Dallas’s face. He made a deep incision in his
own wrist and placed the torn, bleeding flesh over the dying man’s mouth. At first, Dallas did
nothing. Then, like a hungry infant, he sucked greedily, drinking Kyrin’s blood. With each second
that passed, Dallas’s color deepened.

Kyrin released my hand, and my mind went blank.

My eyelids slowly lifted, and my focus snagged Kyrin’s. Sweat beaded his brow, then tiny rivulets trickled down his temples. Almost too afraid to hope, I rolled away the cuff of his shirt before he could withdraw from me. My eyes widened. A long, jagged scar bubbled the skin of his wrist, matching my own. An hour, maybe two, and his injury would fade completely.

Amazed by what he’d done, I blinked up at him. He’d done it. He’d saved Dallas.

I didn’t know what to think. Didn’t know what to say. My relief and joy were too great. Dallas would live.
Dallas would live!
My knees weakened, and I almost crashed to the floor in a boneless heap. I grasped Kyrin’s arm and held myself steady, drawing from his strength.

“I—” I gulped. He’d done what he’d sworn he would never do. He’d given me something without receiving Lilla in return. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem good enough.”

“Do not thank me yet. Your friend now bears my blood. Arcadian blood. When he awakens, he will not be the same man he was before.”

I didn’t care. He would be alive, and that was all that mattered. “I do thank you, Kyrin. I thank you with all of my heart.”

He drew in a steady breath. “Then I accept your thanks.”

Biting my lip, I stroked my fingertips up the smoothness of his forearm, over the ridged swelling of the scar. “Why do you still bear the mark?”

“The deeper the incision, the longer the healing requires.”

“Why?” I asked softly. “Why did you save him?”

“For you,” he said simply. “We need each other, and it was time I did my part.”

Those words…I didn’t know how to respond. A lump formed in my throat. He had decided to trust me completely. I saw the knowledge in his eyes, and it scared me. Was I worthy of that kind of trust? If I had to betray him to close my case, I would. Only the job mattered. Didn’t it?

His long lashes dipped in a seductive blink, casting shadows over his cheekbones. “Come. There is something I wish to show you.”

He extended his hand. I faltered briefly—I don’t know why—then placed my palm in his. As with every time we touched, an electric tingle raced up my arm. I expected it this time, yet was still surprised by its intensity. He led me into the dining room. There he laid his free hand flat against one of the panels and said, “Begin scan.” A yellow glow pulsed between each of his fingers before a single panel split down the middle, revealing a downward staircase.

“This is voice and alien flesh activated,” he said. “You will not be able to enter without me. Even my servants cannot enter.”

I was too astonished to comment. We descended the dark flight of stairs, the air clean and welcoming.

“A hidden room,” I muttered. “I should have known.”

He squeezed my hand gently in response.

When we reached the end of the steps, he halted. “This,” he said, “is my lair.”

Bookshelves towered from floor to ceiling, and a huge flat-screen television occupied the center, emitting a spring of colors and shapes. His desk separated the room into two halves. One half boasted shiny oak floorboards, and the other half was softened by a thick faux fur rug.

Kyrin released my hand, and I flexed my empty fingers, suddenly feeling cold and alone—like I’d felt most of my life.

If I weren’t careful, I would come to depend on this man.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, changing the focus of my thoughts.

“You will see,” was all he said. Without a glance in my direction, he rooted atop his massive, half-circle desk, separating and stacking papers. “I need but a moment. I did not plan to bring you here so soon.”

While I waited, I strolled through the chamber and studied the wall hangings. Lilla smiled from all of them, her features perfectly stitched. He’d taken great pains to hang these in order of age. His love for his sister was commendable, his need to protect her admirable. A ripple of longing drifted beneath that knowledge. Lord, I missed Dare, his laughter. His love.

Sighing, I eased onto a plush emerald chaise in front of the TV.

“This Atlanna,” I said, reclining. “I did a computer search on her name, and the only information I discovered was about the mythical island of Atlantis. Are you familiar with that story?”