King of the Damned: A League of Guardians Novel (18 page)

She’d not used magick in years, and she sure as
hell hadn’t contemplated getting naked with a tall, god of a man who held more
secrets than she did.

And yet there she was. Back in Salem, knee
deep—hell, ass deep—in magick, men, and danger. And she liked it. The thrill.
The power.

It was as seductive as she remembered.

But Azaiel . . . she gazed up into golden
eyes shot through with black . . . he was more dangerous than all of
that. She should be running the other way, yet . . . her fingers
trailed over his taut, hard chest . . . she couldn’t move.

He made her feel things that she shouldn’t. Not
with the threat of Mallick hanging over her head. Not with her mother returned
to Salem. Not with Samhain so close.

And yet . . . it felt amazing to
feel
again.

Azaiel shuddered beneath her fingers, and as she
slid along his body, the evidence of his passion was hard to ignore. He wanted
her as much as she wanted him, so what was the problem? He was a man. She was a
woman. They were both adults.

For a second reality punched her hard, and she
paused, breath held in her throat. He wasn’t like anyone she’d met before. She
felt his power. Felt how his energy bunched and pulsed with something she’d
never experienced before. What
was
she doing? Was
she as crazy as her mother?

But then his hands were on her body, traveling down
her back, past her waist, until he cupped her butt and pulled her in closer. She
gasped at the intimate feel of him. He was hard, unyielding. One hundred percent
male.

Rowan opened her mouth—to protest? To pull away?
But it was too late. Azaiel’s lips descended, and he opened her mouth with his
own, his tongue probing, seeking the heat inside her.

He tasted like heaven, and waves of hot, wet need
rolled over her, weakening her limbs until she leaned into him. Until her
breasts were crushed to his chest, and that moist, throbbing place between her
legs was intimately introduced to the hard bulge at his groin.

His large hand kept her anchored, fingers splayed
across her butt, while his other sank deep into the thick hair that clung to her
neck. He held her so that she couldn’t move—a little too tightly, truth be
told—so that when his lips trailed red-hot fire across her neck, she could do
nothing but whimper. When his tongue licked and suckled near her ear she surely
would have fallen if not for his ironclad grip.

Shivers of delight wound their way across her skin,
and she shuddered as his mouth clamped down near the pulse that burned at the
base of her neck. Her hands crept up, and she clung to his powerful shoulders,
animalistic sounds falling from her lips as she moved against him.

And when he licked his way back to her mouth she
opened wide and claimed him. Tongues slid, teased, and tasted. They heaved
against each other and, with a growl, Azaiel picked her up, and they moved
deeper into the shadows. He shoved her against the shed, his large frame
hovering against hers as his tongue swept along her mouth before plunging deep
inside once more.

Rowan’s head spun. Her insides were hot, like
molten lava, feeding the ache between her legs until she could barely stand it.
She tried to close her legs, tried to put out the fire, but his knee was there,
pushing into her, rubbing against her . . . and warmth flooded her in
a wet weep of desire.

“Oh God, Azaiel,” she whispered, her hands
capturing his face so that he stilled for a moment. So that her eyes connected
with his and said the words she couldn’t.
Stop. This is
crazy. This is amazing.

His had morphed to full-on black but they
glittered, as if backlit with specks of gold. Thick strands of dark
honey-colored hair fell over his brow, and she brushed it back as she gazed up
at him. Their hearts pounded heavy, a rhythm that was in sync, and the thin
sheen of sweat that coated his skin only emphasized the perfect features of his
face.

The man was the most beautiful thing she’d ever
seen. He looked as if he’d been carved from angel’s stone.

His gaze never wavered, and she caught a glimpse of
the intensity that ruled the man who held her. It scared her. His strength. His
total control.

Suddenly a tingle of apprehension shot through her.
A warning that maybe she was pulling on the tiger’s tail. It was a cold shot of
reality, and her heart turned over. Shame scorched her cheeks.

What the hell am I
doing?

Rowan’s throat constricted, and she pushed against
his chest, but his large frame didn’t budge. She needed to jump off the crazy
train and get away from him. She needed to clear her head.

“I warned you.” His voice was harsh and held a hint
of something that was dark.

Rowan opened her mouth, wanting to explain. Wanting
to apologize for her behavior, but he gave her no chance. His mouth was on hers
once more, and he moved so that she was crushed between the shed and the hard
wall of muscle that was his large body.

His hands were everywhere, on her face, in her
mouth, caressing her breasts, and flickering along the quivering muscles in her
lower belly. His mouth wreaked havoc, his long, sensuous tongue spreading fire
across her neck, and she shuddered when he blew against her ear and suckled the
tender spot just below.

“I warned you,” he repeated, his hands tugging at
her shirt, and with a curse he ripped it from neckline to hem. She froze when
she felt cool, crisp air rush across her naked skin.

“Azaiel,” she whispered.

Then his mouth was at her breast as he pushed aside
her bra and enveloped a turgid peak deep into his warmth. He teased and suckled,
each draw hitting her hard between the legs. Never had she experienced such
sensation. Such raw passion.

The man was a bloody plus eleven if that was
possible.

Her hands were anchored in the thick hair atop his
head, holding him steady as he fed from her breasts, while his free hand sank
into the hot crevice between her legs. Even through her jeans she felt the burn
of his flesh, and each stroke of his finger drew such friction across her that
she ached with pleasure and rocked into him. Pushing. Straining. Groaning.

Deep inside her body, a tremor grew—a spiral of
pleasure that quickly spread. He rubbed and sucked and tugged at her, and it
expanded into a ball of exquisite pressure that spun crazily, each pass of his
hand stoking and intensifying. She moaned, her hips bucking as the tidal wave
built and rolled through her, faster and harder until it broke, and she was limp
in his hands.

Slowly he pushed her bra back into place—though his
right hand still cupped the juncture between her legs as he gazed into her eyes.
His expression was unreadable, and she swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable and
ashamed. She’d literally thrown herself at him. What did that say about her?

She watched as the black slowly faded from his
eyes, leaving only the eerie gold that was so unique.

“I only wanted a kiss.” She was horrified to hear
her whispered thoughts echo between them. Her cheeks burned scarlet, and her
hands crept up to her chest.

“I could have had you, right here against this
shed.” He paused, his gaze running from her head to her toes. “
If
I’d wanted to.”

The inference wasn’t lost on Rowan. “You’re an
asshole,” she spat, her anger overriding anything else.

Azaiel nodded. “I’ve been called a hell of a lot
worse, but you should remember, I did warn you.” His voice lowered. “I’m not a
nice man, Rowan. I haven’t been for a very long time. You would do well to
remember that.”

A throat cleared behind them—a masculine,
pissed-off kind of sound—and Rowan froze.

Azaiel’s eyes widened for just a second before he
straightened his body though she noted he was careful to keep her concealed as
he cocked his head to the side. “Enjoy the show?”

“Not particularly.”

Rowan banged her head against the shed and squirmed
so she could see around Azaiel. A tall man glared at her, his handsome face
familiar . . . as was the expression that sat upon it. Anger. Pain.
Disappointment.

“Kellen,” she said hoarsely.

Azaiel stiffened. She stared up into a face of
stone, the warmth they’d shared only moments earlier long gone. He stepped away,
and Rowan glared at him, hating the way his control had never wavered. Hating
the way he’d made her feel. Hating that he appeared to be not affected at
all.

He nodded toward Kellen. “She’s all yours.”

And then he left her alone in the early-morning
gloom with the twin brother she’d nearly killed six years earlier.

Chapter 18

S
he watched Kellen warily. From her vantage point she didn’t see any weapons, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t packing. In fact it most likely meant he was armed to the teeth. He wore a plain black T-shirt and military-style pants in the same shade. The boots on his feet could hold a dagger . . . or two, and she knew from experience Kellen’s pants were usually weighted down with a host of weaponry—all of it aimed at killing.

She clutched the edges of her T-shirt, tied them together, and zipped her leather jacket tight. Behind him lights from inside the house glowed softly, and she noticed that the light in her Nana’s rooms were lit as well. Small darts of it filtered between the boards that had been pounded across the shattered glass window.

Was it less than a week ago she’d been in ignorant bliss?

“What are you doing?” Kellen asked harshly.

His anger was palpable. She got it. But she sure as hell didn’t plan on taking the brunt of it.

Rowan pushed away from the shed and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket. The gloom was considerably lighter than only fifteen minutes ago, and she knew sunrise wasn’t far behind. She cracked her neck. God, she was so tired.

“Just getting some fresh air. You?”

His face darkened. Okay, maybe he was more than a little pissed. “I don’t care about your fucking boy toy, Ro. Let’s talk about our mother.”

Her heart clutched at the sound of her nickname and, for a second she thought that maybe things would be all right. That maybe he didn’t hate her as much as she feared and that he’d forgiven her for the last time they’d been together.

“If you’ve harmed one hair on Marie-Noelle’s head, I will make you pay.” Kellen spoke slowly, enunciating his words so that there was no doubt as to the depth of his anger toward her. His eyes flashed, and he took a step toward her. She noted the way his right hand was loose near his pocket. That wasn’t good.

Okay, so the whole hate thing was still ongoing.

Rowan studied her brother. He wasn’t the lanky young man from her past. A natural athlete who’d excelled at football, he’d always been tall and sported a fluid grace that had earned him a full ride to Harvard. Handsome and a born leader, his dark hair, vivid blue eyes, and absolute charm had made him very popular with the ladies.

But that was a long time ago. Back before Mallick and his curse and their mother’s downward spiral had created a rift so wide, she was pretty sure nothing would be able to fix it.

Gone was the young, easy-going man he used to be. He was now a hardened, powerful man whose body had matured into that of a soldier who could dish out a hell of a lot of hurt. There was a cruelty to his eyes now, and she didn’t doubt he could kill with his bare hands.

Didn’t doubt that he
had
killed with his bare hands. Demons, of course, nasty otherworld creatures for sure, but still, killing changed a person.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Kellen. She’s good. Even has a bloody gargoyle protecting her.” She held her hands apart. “Big, nasty-looking thing.”

Kellen’s mouth tightened even more. “She has a name.”

“Marie-Noelle
is fine.” Rowan nodded toward the house. “Go see for yourself.”

“Why did you bring her here?” he bit out. “It’s dangerous.”

Her own anger thrust against her chest, and that part of her stirred—the one that she mostly kept hidden. Heat rushed through her veins as she stared at a brother who, spiritually, was so far away from her, he could be living on another planet. She took a second and sought the control inside of her. This would not be a good time to go off half-cocked and start something with him.

“She’s damn lucky we went after her last night. Didn’t anyone fill you in on what the hell went down?”

He ignored her words. “You should have called me the minute you got back to Salem.”

“Really?” she snorted. “Because we’ve been so incredibly close the last six years?” Oh God, why did it still hurt so much?

“Because I wouldn’t have let you anywhere near her.”

Rowan ran her hand through the tangled mess of hair at her nape, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that his words pained her. More than she wanted them to. Suddenly, she was so tired of it all. Of the past and how it constantly bit her in the ass. Chewed her up and spit her out like yesterday’s meal.

“I don’t want to fight, Kellen. You know she’s safer here with us than anywhere else.”

“That’s bull.” He took another step closer until she could have reached out her hand and touched him. “There’s another place she can be.”

Her lips whitened, and she shook her head violently. “No.” She would not send her mother there, to the in-between world.

Something shifted in his eyes as he studied her, and when he spoke his tone changed. “We’ve never asked him for help. Maybe now’s the time.”

“No! What happened to the promise we made to Nana? She said that he was more dangerous than Mallick!”

His face whitened. “Nana is gone, Rowan. Everything’s backward. Messed up.”

“Kellen, we can’t.”

“I know you must be scared, Ro.”

“Don’t.” She shook her head and took a step back. “Don’t patronize me. I’m not scared, Kellen. I’m furious and tired, and I’ve fucking had it.” She blinked back hot tears. “Don’t you get it? Mallick killed Nana.
Our Nana.
He won’t stop until he claims his prize, and the last time I looked that effing prize was
me.
I’m done running, Kellen, don’t you get that? Why won’t you trust me enough so that we can get this done?”

“How can you be sure it was Mallick?”

His attitude pissed her off. “The coven has been marked, of course it’s Mallick. He’s pissed at all of us because his mark is blind, and he can’t find me.”

“I don’t like any of this.”

“I don’t see that you have choice.” She lifted her chin and uttered the words she’d thought but hadn’t spoken aloud. “Why weren’t you here with her? The only reason I agreed to leave Salem was because I thought it would keep her safe. That if I was gone, nothing bad would happen to her, and with you around . . .” Her chest heaved, and she took an aggressive step forward, her fingers outstretched as a surge of power rushed along them. “Where were you, Kellen? Why did you leave?” Accusation rang in her voice, breaking her words and tearing at her heart.

His eyes glittered as he stared down at her, and the ache in her heart tripled. There was so much anger and mistrust in them. And pain. “Nana meant the world to me, and the fact that I wasn’t here when she was attacked is something I’ll carry to the grave.” He glared at her, though the bleakness in his eyes shone through. “You have no idea what’s going on with me, and that’s fine. My life is none of your business. Not anymore. You don’t get to ask those questions.”

“Fair enough. I won’t ask any more questions, and you’ll stay the hell out of my way.”

He laughed. “Don’t try that crap with me, Rowan. I want that son of a bitch to pay as much as you do . . . I’m just not willing to sacrifice our mother in order to achieve that goal.”

He didn’t understand. He’d
never
understand.

“Kellen, I need to find the James grimoire. She’s the only one who knows where it is since
she’s
the one who sold it for drug money.” Her voice rang bitterly. “It wasn’t hers to give. You know that. She broke Nana’s heart.”

He swore. “There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t.”

He expelled a long breath and shook his head. “You nearly destroyed her last time. You would have—”

“If not for you.” She finished for him. Her chest constricted, and she moved, startled, as the orange tabby suddenly appeared, weaving its way between her legs. For such a small thing, it purred like a tiger.

“You lied to me, Rowan. You lied to Mom, then you nearly destroyed her. For what? A book?” He laughed, a harsh sound that made her wince. “You don’t even know if it holds whatever you need to defeat Mallick.”

“It does,” she said stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed. “How can you be sure? Don’t you think someone else would have used it before now?”

“No one was ever strong enough.”

He cocked his head to the side. “And you think you are?”

“I’ve no choice. I have to be. He brought this fight to my door when he killed Nana. He won’t stop until . . .” She exhaled and picked up the tabby, who now meowed and rubbed its head against her chin. “I refuse to be Mallick’s bitch, Kellen, and I’ll die before another drop of James blood is spilled.”

“You’re blind to him right now. Leave and the rest of us will go underground.”

“And spend the rest of your lives running?” She motioned behind him. “What about this place? It’s been in our family for generations. I can’t let him win. I can’t let him take that from me.”

“Rowan, you’ve been gone for six years. What do you care?”

“I care,” she whispered fiercely.

He stared at her for a few more seconds, his expression unreadable. “What if you’re not strong enough, Ro? What if . . .” His voice trailed off, and he glanced away, hands fisted at his side.

“Then God help us.”
Because we’re all doomed.

Silence enveloped the both of them.

“Can’t you use a locator spell? Like the one you used to find the asylum?” There was a note of resignation in his voice, and she glanced up, shaking her head.

“No.” She grimaced. “I would have done that before, Kellen. I don’t have anything to locate it with.” Her voice grew steely. “Marie-Noelle needs to remember who or what she gave it to. She needs to make this right.”

“Even if it means she loses her sanity again? Rowan, she’s almost back. Have you talked to her?” Suddenly the man Kellen had grown into was no more, and the small boy, the brother she remembered from her youth, gazed back at her, his blue eyes earnest, full of hope.

“Briefly, last night.”

His eyes darkened, his mouth thinned. “That’s right. But you didn’t have the time or decency to at least let her know that her own mother was gone.”

Rowan stared at her brother and saw the accusation in his eyes. For the first time a small tingle of regret tugged at her heart. She remained silent. What was there to say?

“Why do you hate her so much?” The question was direct, and by the look in Kellen’s eyes he wasn’t going to let it go.

“I don’t hate her.”

“You lie.”

“No,” Rowan shook her head. “I’ve never . . .” But as the wall of emotion inside her broke she realized that he was right.
Hate
might be a strong word choice, but it sure as hell came close to describing the complicated mess of feelings she had for her mother.

“I don’t hate
her . . .
I hate her weakness. I hate that she turned to drugs and booze and men instead of dealing with her situation.” She clenched her hands, heart in her throat as the words came tumbling out. “I hate that she hurt Nana. That she stole and lied and that she chose all of that over us.”

The tabby meowed—she was holding it too tight—and she let the animal run free. “I hate that when you fell from the tree in the backyard and hit your head, I had to drive you to the hospital because she was passed out in her bedroom with her latest boyfriend. We were
seven,
Kellen. Seven!”

He glared at her, his expression unreadable.

“Your leg was broken. Don’t you remember how much pain you were in?”

“I remember.”

“I tried so hard to perform a healing spell, but I couldn’t do it. I just didn’t know enough. She never taught me.” Her words were bitter. “Our phone was cut off. I couldn’t call for help. She didn’t even know Nana had come for us until two days later, when she and her creep boyfriend needed his car to buy more vodka!” She rubbed at her face, hating the sting of tears that hung in the corner of her eye. “What kind of mother does that to her children?”

He was silent for a few moments, and when he spoke, his voice rang with a note of defeat. “The kind that’s screwed up. The kind that needs forgiveness.”

She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

“Then you’ve drawn a line between us, Ro. I won’t let you hurt her again. That last time, what you did to her . . . I trusted you. If I’d known what you’d planned, I would never have let you find the asylum.”

“You couldn’t have stopped me.”

He laughed. “I may not have any of your magick mojo, but don’t for a second think I can’t stop you if I want to.” He arched a brow, his eyes cold and determined. “Don’t think I
won’t
stop you.”

A chill ran through Rowan’s body at the look in his eyes. There was something there . . . something new and dark. When had he become so . . . hard?

“When are you going to ask her about the grimoire?” he asked. “Cedric had to give her some strong meds to calm her down.”

She shrugged. “As soon as possible.”

“Who are these men?” He changed the subject abruptly, and for a moment she was silent.

“Friends of Nana’s.”

He snorted. “Sure they are. She’s always hung with a bunch of
True Blood
wannabes.”

Rowan made a face. “Remember Bill?”

“From
True Blood
?”

She scowled. “Don’t be an asshole. Bill, Nana’s friend. He’d visit from time to time and sometimes stay a few days.”

Kellen’s brow furled. “The little round guy who dressed funny and always carried a bag of candy?”

Rowan nodded. “Azaiel is a friend of his, and they’re here to . . . make things right.”

“I met Priest and Nico earlier, so I’m going to assume that Azaiel is the one you were swapping spit with?”

She glared at her brother but refused to be cowed by him. “Yes,” she answered simply.

Kellen’s face was unreadable as he digested that bit of information. He took a step back and issued a warning. “Don’t go near Mom without me, Ro, or I swear by all that’s holy you’ll regret it.” He left her there and disappeared around the side of the house, no doubt on his way to find Vicki and Terre. They’d always been thick as thieves—even the bloody donkey liked Kellen.

Rowan crossed her arms across her chest, trying to seek what warmth she could. The dampness had found its way past her clothes and clung to her clammy skin with an iron grip. She shivered and closed her eyes. She was surrounded by all of her family and more strangers than she cared to count yet . . . she’d never felt so alone.