Damian's Oracle (26 page)

She was about to lie down when she sensed him
walk by. Her heart soared, and she touched the ring at her neck.
She hesitated, sensing he would be angrier with her than Jule or
Dustin had been. Or both combined. Steeling herself, she passed
Pierre at her door and knocked on Damian’s door.

Not in the mood, Sofia.

She opened the door, heart pounding. He was
framed against the balcony once again, and she leaned against the
door before venturing forward. Despite the cool fear spiraling
through her, she couldn’t help but feel thrilled at the sight of
him after she thought she’d lost him.

“If you ever,
ever,
do anything like
that again … “

He didn’t have to finish the threat. His tone
was enough to tell her he’d show no mercy. He was too angry to face
her, and she was glad of it. She hugged herself, wanting to throw
her arms around him but knowing he was in as an approachable of a
mood as Dustin.

“I brought this back,” she said and pulled
off the chain, placing the ring on the table nearest the door.

“I wanted to apologize to you, Damian,” she
continued. “When I was in that room …”

His grip on the railing tightened, and she
stopped, afraid of pushing him through the brittle façade
containing his emotions. After a thick moment of silence, she
forced herself to continue.

“I swore to myself I’d do this,” she said.
“Damian, I love you. If you don’t hate me for what I did, if you
still … want me … I’m yours.”

He said nothing, didn’t move. A knock sounded
at his door. She took the opportunity to escape, darting by Dustin
to her room.

She’d said her piece. She didn’t know if
she’d hurt him enough to drive him away forever or if there was a
sliver of him that still wanted her. Tortured by the thought she
might have waited too long, she paced her room until too tired to
stand.

Just when he’d thought Sofia couldn’t
surprise him more, she did. The insanity of what she did was beyond
his comprehension. While he loved the
thought
of her
commitment to him, her action made him want to explode. And then to
waltz in and deliver such an important message at a time when he
wanted nothing more than to remain infuriated with her for her
actions.

“Fucking women,” he muttered.

“That fucking woman saved your brother’s
life,” Dusty reminded him.

He’d not yet reconciled how he felt about
seeing his brother alive and in so much pain. He was more and more
appalled by the memories afflicting his brother, what he’d gone
through since his supposed death. Darian was showing more signs of
life. He’d spent the morning vomiting blood and was able to
remember Jule and Dusty by afternoon.

And kiri. He knew Sofia better than he knew
Damian. Damian closed his eyes in pain, unable to shake his
brother’s black history.

“Though if I were you, I’d still be super
pissed at her.”

“I am,” he assured him.

Dusty’s gaze grew intent.

“Damian, I’m sorry. We should have prevented
her from leaving. I never thought she’d do something like that,” he
said quietly.

“I don’t hold you responsible,” Damian said
with a smile. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about humans, it’s
that you can’t control them.”

“It
is
my responsibility. She’s your
mate and my sister. I swear it’ll never happen again. The oath I
took to you and Jule I now take to her.”

Damian was touched. He saw Dusty’s conviction
on his face.

“Thank you, Dusty,” he replied in a hushed
tone. “I doubt she’ll appreciate it though. The first time she
forgets your birthday, all hell will break loose.”

Dusty shook his head.

“I am grateful to you, Dusty,” Damian replied
more seriously. “It’s been a rough few days.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. Easier for me than Darian to
readjust.”

“How is he?”

He’s lost in his mind right now. He’ll have
to work through it.”

“I don’t suppose there are any shrinks among
the Naturals.”

“Don’t think so. Sofia can work with him
some. I don’t know how she reached him inside that dark maze,” he
said with a shake of his head.

“Neither do I.”

“What a sick bastard. If I could kill Czerno
… “ Damian swore darkly. How sick was the man who kept his former
enemy as a slave?

“Fuck, D, I’d take killing Claire over Czerno
any day,” Jule said, appearing near the door. “Czerno’s job is to
be a bad guy. Claire was the worst kind of traitor imaginable.”

“Good point,” Damian said. “I was able to
take care of that issue, though. I can’t touch Czerno.”

“I love Sofia, but I hope you take a switch
to her ass,” Jule advised as he tossed himself into one of the
chairs.

“I told him it was your fault,” Dusty
said.

“It was,” Jule agreed. “And I’m deeply sorry
for it, Damian. On what soul I have, I swear never to allow harm to
come to kiri.”

Damian chuckled.

“It wasn’t either of your faults. I think
this was a small thing they call fate,” he assured them. “And thank
you both.”

“We still good for tomorrow?” Jule asked,
referencing their journey to Europe.

“Yep. Dusty and Darian will be babysitting my
oracle.”

“I’ll keep her in line,” Dusty assured
him.

“I’m too angry at her to pity her,” Jule
said. “You gonna try to rein in Pierre, too?”

“If only. The day kiri grows tired of him,
he’s going to my behavior modification training,” Dusty assured
him.

“Only if kiri agrees,” Damian warned.

“Is this how you train ‘em in the eastern
hemisphere?” Dusty demanded, turning to Jule.

“Better a benevolent team player than a
dictator,” Jule retorted.

“Disciplinarian. I don’t let them run amok
and follow their
feelings
. I give them structure.”

“Like robots.”

Their long standing feud over leadership
styles was interrupted as Darian appeared in the midst of them.
Damian’s throat tightened, and his eyes misted at the sight of his
brother. Darian appeared confused as he took in Jule and Dusty,
recognition blooming slowly. He turned to Damian, his scarred
features the most beautiful sight Damian had ever seen.

“Ikir,” he said, nodding his head in
deferment. “May I see kiri?”

“You don’t need permission to do anything,”
Damian said gently, aware his brother was not yet himself. “Please
don’t call me ikir. I’m your brother, not your master. And yes, go
see kiri. She’ll be happy to see you.”

“I will be happy to see her, ikir,” Darian
said. He adored Sofia, that much was obvious, even if he wasn’t
really sure where – or who – he was most of the time. Damian’s
feelings for her swelled even more.

“How are you, Darian?” Jule asked with a warm
smile.

“I am well, ikir,” came the mechanical reply.
“Please excuse me, ikir.”

And he was gone. Damian’s gaze lingered. He
had a long way to go, but he was alive.

“Take care of both of them, Dusty,” he
murmured.

“I swear it.”

“He’s as strong as you. He’ll pull through,”
Jule said. “And Dust-man won’t let anything near them.”

* * *

Visions of Czerno and home videos from Darian
morphed into a grotesque nightmare that made her body shake, even
as she tried to shake the dream from her thoughts. Insomnia was a
blessing from such darkness.

Come.

She hesitated before pulling her robe on and
obeying. The mansion was quiet again, the signs of activity from
earlier gone. Pierre glanced up from his video game as she passed
him. He watched her until verifying where she went before returning
to the game.

Damian’s suite was lit only by a blazing fire
in the hearth, and the scent of Jule’s cigars hung in the air. She
waited, gaze falling to Damian. He appeared calm and in control
again, if not relaxed with the only three men he’d ever trusted.
Her heart almost burst at the sight of Darian in one of the seats.
Though he was still unable to understand exactly what was going on,
he’d improved dramatically even since she last saw him.

Damian waved her in without looking at him,
his eyes reflecting the fire. He patted the seat beside him on the
couch facing Dustin and Jule. She didn’t hesitate to settle beside
him, knees drawn to her chest, and leaned into his body, struck by
the difference between the men before her. At once, the home videos
and nightmares faded. She sighed in relief and rested her head on
Damian’s shoulder. He moved his arm to wrap around her and pulled
her against him.

“You’re not forgiven,” he reminded her.

“Damn straight,” Jule said, though there was
warmth in his face. “If I had a woman who pulled the bullshit you
did, you’d -“

“Be in deep shit, kiri,” Darian finished for
him.

Jule chuckled. Darian’s gaze mirrored
Damian’s, and Sofia hid her face against Damian’s chest as the
three men facing her gave her similar looks.

“I’ll never have a woman, if they’re this
much trouble,” Dustin declared.

“Agreed. And if I do, she’ll learn to call
Damian, Dusty, or Darian before leaving the house,” Jule chimed in.
“Which is exactly what you will do, kiri.”

Sofia couldn’t help but saying,

“You’ll both have women, and Dustin, when
you’re in trouble, she’ll call
me
.”

Jule and Dustin both looked to Damian.

“Not sure I like this oracle shit,” Dustin
voiced for both of them.

“No way, kiri,” Jule said firmly.

“If she didn’t come after you when you needed
her, why would you want her at all?” she challenged.

“Definitely steering clear of Americans,”
Dustin added.

“Because, kiri, you can’t do what these men
can,” Jule scolded. “And D doesn’t have any other brothers for you
to rescue. You know that’s the only reason you’re not locked in
your room for the rest of your life.”

“No worries,” Damian said with an edge that
made her still. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Glad I’m not you,” Dustin said, leveling a
look at her.

She huddled closer to Damian, unwilling to
look at his face.

“What does kiri mean?” she asked.

“Beloved. It’s used for sisters, mothers, and
mates in our world,” Jule answered. “By the way, you’re on my list.
I hope I’m off yours.”

Her throat tightened, understanding the honor
despite his nonchalant delivery. She nodded.

“What list?” Dustin asked.

“You’re not on hers,” Jule assured him. “I
imagine only Pierre is on it now.”

She laughed.

“I sense a reassignment,” Dustin said, gaze
going to the fire.

Her gaze fell to Darian. He was struggling
again. She shifted away from Damian and touched his forehead,
absorbing the horror of his memories. She drew a sharp breath but
forced herself to stay, to take his pain.

“No, kiri, you’ve done enough,” he said,
taking her hands. “I have much to atone for.”

His heavy words broke her heart, but she
respected his request and returned to Damian’s side. The horrors
from his mind fell away as she curled against him again.

The men fell into a comfortable silence, and
she sensed the silent communications she couldn’t hear. Comfortable
against Damian, she drifted into a restful doze until he shifted.
She roused herself, surprised to see the other three had
disappeared at some point. She sat up, forcing herself to meet his
golden gaze. His face was unreadable, his gaze steady.

“Please don’t be angry,” she said, touching
his face.

He took her hand in his and leaned forward,
allowing his forehead to rest against hers. She sighed, delighting
in the tender moment.

“Are you going to run from me again?” he
asked without moving.

“No, Damian. Never again. I promise,” she
swore just as quietly.

“Good.”

He stood and swept her into his arms.

“I’ve got plans for you tonight,” he said,
desire flaring on his face as he carried her into his bedroom. “And
every night from here on out.”

Her heart sang as she realized she’d not lost
him, her body echoing the desire on his face.

* * *

The next morning, the sigh of snow falling
outside her window drew her gaze as she packed for the evacuation.
Damian’d replaced her necklace at her neck, a small comfort until
his work in the European front was finished. She approached the
window, amazed at the snow, until her gaze fell to a figure
kneeling like a dark gargoyle in the snow. He’d been there long
enough that the snow had covered his footprints.

Alarmed, she swung on her robe and snatched
one of Damian’s trench coats. She flew down the stairs and through
the teeming hallways. Pierre trotted after her into the cold
morning. The air was cold, brisk, the snowflakes falling faster.
Snow crunched under her feet and quickly soaked her flimsy
slippers.

“Darian!” she exclaimed, dropping to her
knees beside him.

His eyes were closed, his body hunched and
hands clenched together. He wore nothing more than a t-shirt and
jeans. Snow covered his hair, and his skin was cold.

“Darian!” she touched his face.

He opened his eyes and stared at her, a
tortured look on his face.

“I remember them,” he said. “All of
them.”

His memories flashed, and she winced at the
sight of the executions he’d committed for Czerno.

“That wasn’t you, Darian,” she whispered.
“You had no control over yourself.”

“I’m weak.”

“You’re not. Damian was crippled by the same
thing.”

She regretted alluding to it the moment the
raw look of anguish crossed his face.

“Claire,” he said hoarsely.

He closed his eyes, his jaw clenched hard
enough for the muscles to tick. A tear escaped one eye and trailed
down his face. She felt her own tears spill over. His was not the
kind of pain she could fix.