Courting Darkness (31 page)

“For them, it could be. I have enemies, Olivia, and so do you. The more they know about us, the greater risk that places them in.”

All right, so that made sense. Maybe this wasn’t about her after all.

“Your lip is bleeding.”

He sucked at the bottom corner and ran his tongue over the little nick. Arching a brow, he grinned seductively. “You never used to be such a biter.”

She gasped in feigned outrage and playfully socked him in the bicep. “That was your fault!”

As she marched past him to head downstairs, Liam snagged her wrist and pulled her back into his arms, caging her in a flesh-covered prison she was in no hurry to escape.

“What? Coming back for more, are you?” she teased. “Well aren’t you a glutton for punishment.”

Snapping her teeth at him, he chuckled. The deep rumbling melody was like music to her ears. It lightened her soul, filling her heart with some much needed joy. This was what she needed…him, relaxed and enjoying just being with her. Perhaps if they could table the drama and she could relax herself, it might do wonders for her memory and her outlook on things.

Liam planted a solid kiss on her mouth then leaned back, swiping his thumb across her bottom lip. “Come on, let’s go. If there’s still enough daylight left after supper, I’ll take you for a walk on the grounds.”

For at least the one-hundredth time, Liam questioned his wisdom in bringing Olivia here. To say she was stressed was an understatement. He so desperately wanted to help her, to make things right for her, that he’d agreed to take this chance knowing full well it may just end up biting him in the ass—especially if any warriors passed through while they were here.

Olivia was a stunning woman, much too beautiful for her own good. The angels that passed through here weren’t your average halo-wearing, harp-strumming good guys. They were an ass-kicking, demon-hunting band of rogues that wouldn’t hesitate to get up close and personal with his female if they thought, for even a second, she was fair game.

An unruly group of warriors, that lot—how Niall kept them under his command was kudos to that male’s leadership skills, and no doubt a very heavy hand. Were Liam not an officer in the army of the High Court, then commissioned into guardianship, he probably would have chosen the Rogues’ path for himself. Of course, who the hell knew what was in his future now? Relieved of his guardianship, he had no interest in returning to the guard of the High Court.

But a Rogue’s life wasn’t without sacrifice. Then again, what job wasn’t? Liam knew all about sacrifice—sacrifice for his Creator, for his job, for Olivia… Shit, going Rogue would probably be a cakewalk compared to the hell he’d been through.

Rogues did not reside in Heaven, which meant they were afforded more liberties than any other angel. Enduring separation from their Creator seemed like sacrifice enough. When not hunting and delivering demons into Sheol, most of the Rogues came here for their R&R. Occasionally, during especially daunting hunts, warriors would pass through here with their prisoners, taking a brief respite before continuing on.

The thought of these warriors coming through here, with or without demons in tow, sat ill with him. With any luck, the veil over Olivia’s memories would lift sooner than later, and he could take her back home. The idea of leaving her again, if only long enough to deliver Haden to court, caused a knot of dread to tighten in his gut.

As if sensing his turmoil, Olivia glanced toward the house as they strolled together, perhaps making sure they were truly alone before taking his hand and threading her fingers between his. “I hope this is all right. I don’t think anyone can see us from here.”

No doubt, it was a moot point by now. Henry would have run straight to Rebecca with what he’d seen, which was undoubtedly the cause for the coolly polite, silence-filled supper they’d all just endured. But regardless, he appreciated Olivia’s effort at discretion. Glancing down, he met her verdant stare, and his blood instantly heated with the primal need to take her in his arms and make her his own all over again. The love he felt for this woman consumed him, bordering on obsession, and a part of him wondered if Olivia would ever truly understand the depth of his devotion to her.

That she’d even suspected he’d had past relations with Rebecca told him the answer was most likely not. At least not until her memories returned, which selfishly, was the only up-side he could see to this scenario.

Returning her smile, he gave her hand a loving squeeze and lifted her knuckles to his lips. “It’s more than okay.”

Taking a change of direction, he led Olivia into the grove of fruit trees that had once been cotton fields. Guiding her over to the base of a pear tree, Liam sat on the lush bed of grass and leaned against the spine of the trunk. He pulled Olivia to sit between his outstretched legs. As she leaned into his chest, resting her head against his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her in a loose hug as they took in the view of the western skyline—only the faintest streaks of purple remained, soon to be swallowed up by the night.

They sat in silence, enjoying these few precious moments of stolen tranquility. Placing a kiss against her temple, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet scent of fruit trees mingled with vanilla-jasmine.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she sighed. “It feels absolutely…heavenly.”

Olivia’s small frame seemed to melt into him and the tension slowly eased from her body.

“Even the air... There’s an energy…a presence here that I can’t quite describe.”

Liam chuckled softly at her astute perception. “Yes there is. This plantation was blessed and the ground made sacred in 1864. One year before the Civil War ended. Although the ground continues to produce life, the passage of time has nearly frozen here. Long ago, before the Great Flood, man lived to be nearly a thousand years old. The Creator’s presence made the world almost ageless. That supernatural power is what keeps this place in a form of stasis.”

Olivia crossed her arms over his and snuggled close as if trying to ward off the cool evening air.

“Are you chilled? Do you want to go back?”

“No. I don’t want to go back. I’m not sure I ever want to go back. It’s like the rest of the world doesn’t even exist. There’s this great sense of peace I feel here.”

It wasn’t the context in which he’d asked the question, but considering his needling concerns over bringing her to
Landaketa
, it pleased him to discover she was happy. She deserved to rest, to relax, before returning to the world and all its demands.

“What was the purpose in creating such a place as this?”

“After the Great Fall, a third of the angels were cast out of Heaven and many of them came to Earth, freely going between the dimensions of there and Hell. The wars of man drew the attention of the fallen. They had been forbidden from partaking in these wars lest they alter the outcome and disrupt prophesy. But this decree did not stop the demons from joining in these wars.

“Because the United States was a country favored by God, a nation birthed to escape religious tyranny, the outcome of the Civil War was a particularly vital conflict to a new country.”

She nodded that she was following him and her silky raven hair brushed against his neck. As she snuggled deeper into his chest, he wondered if she could feel his arousal pressing against the small of her back. The little shimmy of her hips as she worked herself closer, rubbed against him, scattering his thoughts. He stopped speaking as a tortured groan escaped his throat. He stretched his senses, and automatic response that came up empty as he instinctively searched for her emotional grid—a connection that had been his constant companion for the last seventeen years, ever since he’d assumed her guardianship when she was a small child.

When he didn’t continue, she glanced up at him as if to see what the problem was. “Go on,” she encouraged. “I’m listening. In fact, I find your stories incredibly fascinating.”

It took all his self-control to continue talking when all he really wanted was to roll Olivia under him and make love to her beneath the cover of night. What was he saying? Oh, right…America, favored country… “During the Civil War, demonic possession was heavy, and they were starting to shift the outcome out of God’s favor. So a legion of warrior angels was sent under the leadership of an archangel named Niall. Their job was, and is still, to hunt earth-walkers—demons that live in Earth’s realm and would harm humans.

“The war was long and the battles were brutal. It was lasting much longer than the time God had allowed, so near the end of the war, Michael’s legion—my legion—aligned with Niall’s for a short time to step in and wage war against the darkness that had deceived a multitude of men, pitting brother against brother. A nation founded on Godly principles was caving in on itself, consumed in a blanket of deceit, hatred, and greed. BC philosophies that should have died on the cross remained rooted in arrogance and pride.

“When we came here, hunting the fallen wasn’t easy because many were hidden in the bodies of mortals. Our prolonged stay made it necessary for a sanctuary to be established. The warriors needed a sacred ground where we could reside, a place to contain imprisoned demons and heal from battles. This land became protected, and to this day remains impenetrable by our enemies.”

“Is that when you met Rebecca?”

“It is.”

“Tell me about her.”

“Rebecca’s story isn’t mine to share. But I will tell you that she has endured incredible hardship, and has persevered over what would have destroyed most women. Perhaps she’d share it with you if you asked her. But right now,” he whispered, dipping his head to nuzzle the side of her neck as he breathed in her feminine scent, “I think I’ve done enough talking for a while.” He nipped the sensitive flesh behind her ear and smiled at the startled gasp that caught in her throat. She tipped her head to the side, a silent invitation for more as she reached up and threaded her finger into his hair.

“I thought you said we couldn’t do this here.”

He ignored her whispered reminder, kissing a trail along the pounding pulse in her throat. Her blunt nails scratched his scalp as her fingers curled tight, holding his head in place, as if he’d had a mind to move. Had he actually thought himself capable of keeping his distance from her while they were in
Landaketa
?

“You want me to stop?” he challenged, knowing full well he wouldn’t even if she’d said yes. His voice was a low throaty growl he hardly recognized, so lust-drunk he’d become on the sweet wine of her flesh.

“Not a chance.”

Turning in his arms, she met his kiss as he rolled her beneath him, pinning her between his hard body and the plush, cool grass. He was beyond concern of propriety, past the point of no return. Olivia had been snuggling the lush curve of her bottom against his arousal for the last fifteen minutes, driving him mad with need. Under the cover of night, he gave himself over to his preternatural side, the part of him that ran on pure basic instinct, pure emotion, and pure male dominance.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Olivia awoke to the sound of chirping birds, a repetitive
“thwack”
echoing somewhere in the distance. Enveloped in sheets that smelled lightly of lavender, Olivia rolled onto her back and stretched, her body slowly rousing as if waking from a deep hibernation. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so soundly or felt more rested.

Wait a minute… This wasn’t where she’d fallen asleep last night, or was it? Had last night been nothing but a deliciously seductive dream? She stretched again, testing her body for the intimate ache that would confirm she hadn’t dreamt the bliss of Liam making love to her under the star-lit night. The soft cotton sheet brushed over her naked flesh and she froze. Olivia lifted the sheet to confirm what she already knew. No, it most certainly hadn’t been a dream. Now where were her clothes?

Lifting her head, she looked behind her and felt a pang of disappointment to find she was alone. One of the French doors sat ajar, letting in a morning breeze that held a touch of humidity, promising today was going to be a scorcher. A quick scan of the room revealed her clothes were certainly gone, and in their place was a pale blue dress, trimmed with white lace, draped over the chair beside the fireplace.

Throwing back the covers, Olivia climbed out of bed, bare feet padding across the hardwood floor to the pitcher of water on the dresser. A bar of soap, wash cloth, and a toothbrush lay inside the basin. Before getting dressed, she made use of the modest facilities, and then stepped into the reams of satin and lace. Missing her jeans and tank top, not to mention her bra and underwear, she cinched up the bodice with the white silk ribbon. After adjusting her breasts to fit into the corset, not an easy feat to accomplish, she took a step back to get a look in the mirror.

Aside from showing an abundance of cleavage she never would have willingly displayed, the dress fit well enough. The fabric was lighter than she’d expected and seemed to accommodate for air movement. Grabbing the silver-handled hairbrush from the dresser, she stepped out onto the balcony to brush her hair.