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Authors: Amanda Bonilla

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Crave the Darkness (11 page)

BOOK: Crave the Darkness
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Until recently.

I didn’t have time to devise a game plan. Guns were firing from all directions. The bullets wouldn’t kill us—or Anya—but again, our assassin must have known that. Today’s objective: chaos. Rattle Anya as much as possible. I had a feeling it worked. Starting down the street, invisible in the cover of daylight, I headed for the human whose body was half out of his car. He wasn’t looking at anything but Xander’s Range Rover, a nine-millimeter clutched in his hands. I became corporeal as my elbow swung, catching him in the temple. His head jerked back, his eyes unfocused and blank. It didn’t stop him from squeezing off a couple more shots. With a quick jerk, I wrestled the gun out of his hands and delivered another blow to his face, harder than the first, but not hard enough to do too much damage. He slumped out of the car’s window.

One down, three to go.

The wail of sirens sounded in the distance. I didn’t have much time. If I couldn’t neutralize the threat, someone would be killed. “Darian!” Asher’s voice came through loud and clear in my earpiece. “I’ve got the shooter across the street. You’ve got one behind you, running like hell for the intersection.”

I turned, and sure as shit, the woman who’d come out of the Columbia Center hightailed it down the street as fast as her Jimmy Choos would carry her. I took off after her, no longer concerned with being unseen. The Range Rover’s tires squealed as Robert dodged through traffic, and the windows of a nearby cab shattered as a spray of bullets pelted its way from trunk to engine.

As I leapt toward the woman—she was shooting as she ran—I said a silent prayer of thanks that I hadn’t worn my duster. I crashed into her, ramming my shoulder into the middle of her back and wrapping my arms tight around hers. I rolled to my back, taking the brunt of the unyielding sidewalk, protecting the woman from any unnecessary breakage. The air left her chest in a whoosh and she gasped, fighting to regain control of her lungs. Her gun skidded down the sidewalk, and she flailed against me, her fingernails breaking and biting into the concrete as she scrambled for her weapon. Compulsion is a scary fucking thing.

I knocked her out, just tapped her head against the sidewalk. She’d maybe come out of it with a slight concussion, but it was a hell of a lot better than dead. Across the street, Asher dodged in and out of the terrified crowds of pedestrians, taking out shooter number three in a football tackle similar to mine, though I had no doubt his had been a thousand times more graceful. The kid moved with the fluidity of a hunting cat, and it almost mes it number tmerized me to watch him in action.

One shooter left.

And the son of a bitch was standing in the crosswalk, legs braced apart with a monster .38 pointed at the Range Rover like he was Dirty fucking Harry. Just
great
. My boots pounded on the cement, thundering in my ears with each stride. I’d never make it, even with my preternatural speed. Robert couldn’t stop; he had orders to get Anya out of here. He couldn’t dodge any more traffic without causing a nasty wreck. He’d have no choice but to plow right over the human.

Shit.

Out of nowhere, Myles leapt into the crosswalk, grabbing the shooter by the shoulder and flinging him to the other side of the street. Not quite as gentle as I would have liked, but it got the job done. Myles straddled the gunman and ripped the .38 from his grip. Using the butt of the gun, he delivered a punch to the guy’s face, and then another. He sagged to the pavement, blood running in a steady stream and dripping off his chin. Myles raised his hand high to deliver yet another blow. . . .

“No!” I’m not sure why I shouted, the whole team could hear me just fine in their earpieces. “Myles, I said no casualties.”

I continued to run as he raised his hand higher, and I let a string of swear words fly that would’ve made a construction worker blush. Myles was going to feel that human’s pain firsthand if he didn’t stand down in three . . . two . . . one . . .

As if he’d sensed the threats inherent in each and every curse I’d muttered, Myles lowered the gun, tucked it into his waistband, and stood.

“Get your ass back to the house,” I called, changing course and heading back toward the Columbia Center.

The Range Rover sped down the block, turning the corner in a drift of squealing tires, and disappeared out of sight. I could almost let out a sigh of relief.

Almost.

Supernatural energy snaked across my skin—faint, almost too subtle to identify—and I stopped dead in my tracks. A man stepped out from the shadows of the towering Columbia Center skyscraper, and I reached for the dagger I’d tucked back into my waistband.

Beautiful. Angelically so with golden blond hair and icy blue eyes that backed up his connection to something heavenly. He strode right up to me with a confident swagger that only enhanced his perfection. A soft blush painted his cheeks and his lips spread into a sweet, cajoling smile. Good lord, he was damn near blinding to look at.

“You’re trouble, aren’t you?”

Not the worst thing I’d ever been called.

“And not a Shaede, either. Not exactly.” He reached up with his right hand, palm facing me as if he were feeling the air around me. “Delicious energy. Powerful.”

Okaaaay
. “You must be the asshole I should be introducing to my dagger right now.” I allowed a glance behind me; the sirens were getting too close for my comfort. A slew of human police would converge on the street in a matter of seconds. This was not the time or the place for a supernatural showdown.

The angel’s smile didn’t fade. “Tell Anya her past has caught up to her. She knto r a supows what I want
and tell her to watch her back.”

Without thinking, I lunged, thrusting the dagger in front of me. I stumbled, stabbing nothing but air. I spun a circle, ready for anything and expecting an ambush. The bastard vanished, leaving nothing but a shimmer in the fabric of reality with his passing.

Don’t you just hate it when your day goes to shit?

Chapter 11

 

“H
e knew you.”

“So, a lot of people know me.”

I stepped close enough that I could almost smell Anya’s discomfort. “You’re not helping me to protect you, Anya. Who is he?”

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

The door to Anya’s suite swung wide, and Dimitri rushed to his wife’s side, checking her over for even the tiniest scratch. The only parts of her body not covered in leather were her hands and face; you’d think Dimitri would have been put at ease.

“I’m fine,” she said, brushing his concerns aside. “I wish everyone would quit treating me like I’m going to break at any second.”

That made two of us.

Dimitri turned, and without a word, wrapped me in a bear hug, squeezing me so tight I doubted I’d be able to take a normal breath ever again. “Thank you,” he murmured, giving me an extra-tight squeeze.

“No—oof!—problem,” I replied through clenched teeth. I actually liked Dimitri. He was a good guy, despite his taste in women, and he’d been there for me as well as for Tyler when he’d been suffering.

“Anya,” I said, as I took a deep breath to replenish the air Dimitri had squeezed out of me. “Help me, so I can help you.”

“You can go now, Darian.” I could tell by her warning tone she didn’t want Dimitri to know about her mysterious admirer. “Thank you”—she almost choked on the words—“for being there today.”

“If you want
real
help, Anya, you know where to find me.” I pinned her with a stare, hoping she’d get that I meant business. She may not want to come clean now. But she would. Even if I had to rat her out to her husband to get the truth out of her.

I closed Anya’s door behind me, only to hear the sounds of angry voices floating up the staircase. I strained toward the sound, my preternatural hearing homing in on something I doubted to be real. But the closer I got to the head of the stairs, the more the truth sank in. My heart hammered against my rib cage, fighting for a way out. Legs weak from the sudden adrenaline rush, I crept down the stairs one at a time, listening.

“I will not tolerate your presence in
my
house!” Xander’s voice was a controlled burn.

“I don’t give a shit what you’ll
tolerate
, Xander. I’m not leaving until I speak with her.”

Oh god
. His voice speared me like a dagger. I couldn’t breathe. Just hearing him turneto r the d my stomach into a tight knot of nerves.

“You’re a nuisance,” Xander said, disgusted. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough already? You can’t just show up here after months and demand to talk to her. Where were
you
when the PNT attempted to bring her to justice when her secrets forbade her from speaking on her own behalf? What did
you
do to help gain her freedom from the Judicial Council? Do you know what she’s been doing for the past three months?” Xander continued to rail. “How she’s been holed up in her apartment? You’ve certainly kept her safe and sound, haven’t you,
Jinn
.”

I couldn’t bear to hear another word. I backed slowly up the stairs, ashamed to look Tyler in the eye. Terrified that Xander would continue to lay out for him—in detail—the train wreck I’d become. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? A vividly painted picture of my weakness to reinforce Ty’s decision to leave me.

“Xander, I suggest you shut up before I shut you up.” Tyler’s tone was dead calm. The air temperature dropped about twenty degrees and stirred with energy. Not a good sign.

“And I suggest you leave before I kill you with my own hands.”

The backs of my calves hit the top stair, and I tripped backward, falling right on my ass. This moment just couldn’t get any better. Silence descended, my graceful maneuver no doubt audible to both Xander and Ty. I held my breath, willed my pulse to slow its frenzied pace. I could stand toe to toe with any badass with a weapon. But put me in a room with those two men, and I tucked tail.

I bit back the tears stinging at my eyes. Jesus Christ, why couldn’t I get my shit together? I wished they’d both leave before I lost my grip entirely.

“It’s time for you to go,” Xander said, sounding suddenly distracted.

“Go. To. Hell.”

Sounded like Ty wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I doubted my shaky legs would carry me down the stairs. And if they did, then what? Confront Ty and let him know how much he’d managed to hurt me? I didn’t think I could handle that. A spark of power lingered, Tyler’s magic weaving with the air, drifting up the stairs as a cold draft toward me. I could try to wish him away. He was still my bound genie and had to grant my wishes. But despite everything that had changed between us, one thing stayed the same: I didn’t like to exercise that kind of control over him. Which made me the world’s biggest hypocrite, because it hadn’t seemed to bother me the last few times I’d wished him into uselessness.

“Darian, I know you’re up there!” God, the way he said my name. It would’ve brought me to my knees if I hadn’t already been flat on my ass. “I need to talk to you! Please.”

I grabbed on to the banister for support, hauled myself to my feet. I could do this. I could face him.

“Get out!” The control was gone, Xander’s words infused with pure malice.

Tyler ignored him, his voice carrying up the stairs. “You need to look in the envelope that Marcus gave you—”

“I said, get the hell out of my house!” Xander railed.

I stopped midstep. This was about the
job
? The sounds of Xander and Ty arguing became nothing more than white noise in the back of my mind. Reallmy facy, what did I expect? That he’d come over to beg me to take him back? Acting on instinct, my body merged with gray twilight, the transformation wrapping me in stifling warmth.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” a voice said from behind me.

“You know, I’m getting sick of you,” I hissed, becoming my solid self as I turned to face Raif.

“I don’t doubt it,” Raif countered with a smile. “Want me to handle that?” he asked, jerking his head toward the stairs.

I wondered what would happen if he didn’t handle it. Ty and Xander had been itching to take shots at each other for almost a year. If left alone, the situation could get messy pretty damn fast.

“I suppose you’d better,” I said with a sigh. “I can help, if you want—you know, diffuse the situation.”

Raif laughed. “Darian, the last thing your presence would do is
diffuse
the situation. Stay. Put. If you run, you’d better run fast. Because I will come after you.”

No escaping Raif, it seemed. He refused to let me chicken out. He brushed past me, descending the stairs with an infuriating calmness. Xander and Ty continued to argue, their voices rising and boiling like a coming thunderstorm.

“Tyler.” Raif sounded casual, though not accommodating. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How are you? I don’t suppose we can talk outside. Just you and me.” Raif never asked anyone to do anything. Every word spoken was a gently urged command. “I’d hate to have to replace another door, you know.” I heard the latch let loose on the front door, the hinges sighing as it opened. “Darian isn’t available at the moment . . .”

The door closed again, shutting out the sound of their voices, now just a dull muffle in my mind. I leaned over the banister but saw nothing. I sunk to the floor and closed my eyes. Darkness followed on the heels of twilight, cool and smooth, like satin flowing over my skin. I felt a presence behind me, but didn’t turn around.

“Let me take you away from here for a while.” Xander’s breath caressed my ear, bringing with it a ripple of chills.

I nodded my head. Anywhere was better than here.

* * *

 

We traveled as shadows. Quick, quiet, sliding through the city like an indiscernible breeze. I let Xander lead the way, and he was much faster than I’d expected. Faster, even, than Raif. I made a game of it, keeping up with him, and I think he knew it because he took me throughout the city: up, down, in, out, over, under, and through. I barely had time to calculate my next move. I needed this, to be out in the open air, unhindered and unburdened. I felt fifty pounds lighter, the tension melting away by slow degrees like icicles in the sun.

Once we’d left the city behind, Xander’s pace slowed. When we finally stopped, spring blossomed all around us. I’d been here before, but never this early in the season, and never under the silver glow of the moon.

“I like it here,” Xander said. He walked to the handrail of one of the arched wooden bridges of Kubota Garden, looking at the water below. “It’s quiet at night. I thought you might need to be somewhere calm. Drama free.”

Drame=", loa free was good. I closed my eyes, breathed in the scent of fresh, green things and dew. In a few months, the cherry trees would be heavy with blossoms and the sweet smell of encroaching summer would scent the warmer air. The Japanese gardens were an oasis in the middle of a concrete desert. The crisp, early spring air helped to clear the worry from my mind, the self-inflicted anguish I couldn’t let go of. “I’ve lived in this city for almost a century and I’ve only been here a couple of times.” I laughed, my voice sounding unfamiliar and small. “But it’s nice.”

“When Anya returned without you today, I worried for you—”

I braced myself for the overprotective banter, the warnings that I was in over my head.

“—but then I realized I had nothing to worry about. You handle yourself too well for me to worry for your safety.”

I let out a deep breath when I realized that the warnings and admonitions weren’t going to come.
Opportunist. Manipulator.
Raif’s words echoed in my mind. Xander appeared more than willing to admit I could hold my own when just days ago he’d slammed his palm against his desk proclaiming my life was too precious to risk. What game was he playing? “Thanks,” I said, not knowing how else to respond. “I’ll get him, you know. That bastard can only hide for so long. And when I find him, he’s as good as dead.”

“I know that,” Xander said, still gazing over the bridge at the water. Silver moonlight danced across its surface, glittering like diamonds. “I trust you. You’re more than capable.”

A doubtful snort escaped my lips before I could think better of it. Xander didn’t trust anyone, except Raif. And capable? Lofty praise indeed from his high and mightiness. More games. “Better watch out, Xander, your pretty talk and false compliments might get you into trouble someday.”

He turned to face me, bracing himself against the railing. He crossed his feet at the ankles and his arms across his wide chest. His eyes burned as his gaze roamed over my body, stealing my breath. The shadows played against his features making the mask of kingly authority, the sarcasm that seemed as much a part of him as his regal smile, almost dangerous. And his casual posture contradicted the muscles flexing across his shoulders as if he were ready to spring into action at any moment. The gold flecks in his eyes glowed brightly in sharp contrast to the silver rippling across the water and a slight breeze teased the golden strands of his hair. Xander was many things: a liar, a manipulator, an arrogant, royal pain in the ass. But, damn, he was something to look at.

He took a step toward me, and my brain told my legs to take a step back. But the damn things wouldn’t listen. Like a rabbit in a snare, I was caught.

“Darian,” he whispered, but it was as good as a shout in the still night air. “The Jinn was a fool. Rather than weep, you should make him pay.”

My throat felt like it was closing up. “Pay?” I managed to choke out.

“For hurting you. Forsaking you. Betraying you,” he murmured.

I looked out over the water. At the trees overhead. The shadows dancing in the moonlight. Anywhere but at him.

“And do you know what would wound him to the quick?”

I gave a nervous laugh. “A slip with a nail file?” If X fie him paander’s lack of laughter was any indicator, he hadn’t found my attempt at turning his words into a cute pun very funny. I cleared my throat and scuffed my boot against the cobbles.

“Look at me.”

No way
. Butterflies swirled in my stomach, my heart lurched into my throat. Was I actually sweating? My entire body felt clammy. I glanced over my left shoulder as if I’d heard something. But the only sound was my own pulse thrumming in my ears.

Xander reached out, cupped my chin in his hand, and turned my face to meet his. He’d taken another step closer, our bodies almost touching. I took a steadying breath, focused on the gold flecks shining in his gaze. He really did have pretty eyes . . .

“It would
kill
him to see you with someone else.”

Damn if he couldn’t hold me captive with a stare. “I doubt that very much, Xander.” He had no idea that Ty had already one-upped me on the whole rubbing-his-new-arm-candy-in-my-face thing. And I wasn’t about to tell him, either.

“He hurt you. Strike back. There’s no greater torture than knowing another man is touching the woman you want. Tasting her naked flesh. Taking her in ways you can only imagine. I could help you”—he flashed a wicked smile—“torture him.”

Delicious chills raced up my spine, turning my insides liquid.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

BOOK: Crave the Darkness
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