Seal of Surrender (13 page)

A persistent knock drew her back to the present.

After shutting off the shower and snagging a towel for a quick dry-off, Irena slipped on a hotel robe and peered through the peephole. She prayed to God it wouldn't be Drake's face on the other side of the door. She really couldn't deal with him tonight.

Instead, she found Chago pacing in front of her door. Relief washed over her and heat flooded her cheeks. Despite the situation, arousal continued to zing through her body from his caresses, his kisses, his hardness. Opening the door would be a mistake. Still, she turned the knob and greeted him with a smile. No one had ever claimed Irena wasn't a glutton for punishment.

“Can I come in?” His large frame draped her doorframe with the grace of a resting panther. At her hesitation, he raked a hand through his hair and pinned her with a pointed stare. “It's time we had that talk.”

Great
.

Irena stepped aside and allowed him to enter. The air around her filled with the scent of clean, warm male and something indefinably Chago. She glanced at the bed before closing the door and following behind him. Good thing she'd hidden the photos. Drake's mess was hers to clean up. “Can't this wait until tomorrow?”

“No.”

Chago took a seat behind the desk and fidgeted, looking at everything except her. She'd never seen him as anything other than super-confident and found the contrast oddly endearing. His words tumbled forth in a torrent of stress.

“Look, Irena. I've got information to share with you. This is going to be hard … ” His expression resembled a death row inmate searching for reprieve. “Hell. This is going to sound loco, but it's the truth. I swear.”

“Tell me.” She perched at the edge of the bed and pasted on her most benign smile, despite the unease setting her nerves on alert. Any conversation that started with ‘we need to talk' was never pleasant, but Irena wasn't a coward and no problem could be solved until it was faced. “Believe me, I've heard some pretty bizarre things in my line of work. This can't be any worse.”

He stared at her for a long moment. His hair stood in spiky disarray and dark shadows marred the otherwise tan perfection of his face. Gaze downcast and tone quiet, he continued. “I wanted Xander to explain things, but he's right. After the attack it can't wait.”

Her fingers twisted the bedspread, a part of her longing to scream, to end the horrible suspense. The other part longed to run from the room and never return. Except running wasn't an option. Not anymore. She took a deep breath and steeled her resolve. “Please just tell me. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out.”

“There are things you need to know about yourself, about why I'm here. Are you sure you're ready to hear those things?”

She considered him for several seconds. Her heart fluttered in a crazy tap-dance rhythm, her building tension desperate for release. Irena gave him a small nod.

He took a deep breath. “To start, I'm not your typical security expert. I've had more experience than most at my profession.”

“How much more?”

“About eleven hundred years.”

Nervous laughter bubbled up before Irena could stop it. Lack of sleep must be catching up with her — with both of them — if his delusions of perpetuity were any indication. She played it off, like the joke he must have intended. “Eleven hundred years? Wow. You must have some résumé.”

“I'm serious, Irena. I'm a member of the Scion, elite warriors selected by Divinity to serve as she commands.” Chago watched her closely, his tone grave. “And I am immortal.”

Her face froze into a strained smile. He must have sustained a concussion during the attack. She cursed herself for not insisting he see a doctor. Her mind ticked through her years of EMT training and focused on keeping him calm. “Right. Let me throw on some clothes and we'll take a ride to the hospital to have you checked out.”

She moved to grab clean items from the dresser, but didn't even get the drawer open. He gripped her wrist, his heat scorching through the thick terry cloth robe. “I don't need medical treatment. My wounds are gone.”

Irena turned to face him and her stomach descended to somewhere near her toes. His shirt gaped open, revealing an expanse of perfect golden-brown skin. The previous nasty gash and claw marks, the scrapes and bruises had disappeared. He slid the garment off his shoulders and pivoted, allowed her to scan his back and sides, all completely healed.

Chago stood nearby, lines of fatigue fanning from the corners of his watchful eyes. His expression remained solemn. A cold shiver ran through her unsettled nerves. There had to be an explanation, a rational explanation.

As if reading her mind, his next words ended her speculation. “There is no other explanation, Irena.”

Her mind refused to accept his words. Immortals didn't exist. She remembered the bedtime stories her mother had read to her as a child, fairy tales rife with wizards and demons. Those fantasies weren't true. She studied this man, with his pensive eyes and tense mouth. They couldn't be true.

“There's more.”

“Maybe I better sit down.” She sagged into his now vacated seat, her knees weak.

He took residence in her former place on the bed. “I'm here on a mission. To guard the host of the second Seal of the Apocalypse — War. Are you familiar with the biblical prophecy?”

The Apocalypse? Somehow this conversation had veered off on a bizarre tangent of doomsday proportions.

“I'm here to protect you, Irena.” He clasped her limp hand. “You are the host of the second Seal.”

She rose to unsteady feet and walked to the windows. “Boy, you weren't kidding about the information, were you?” Her mind latched onto a detail missing from his outlandish tale. “What about the thing that attacked you tonight?”

“Archon.” Chago moved to stand beside her, his expression giving no hint to his feelings. “He's the son of Lucifer, escaped from his father's prison in Hades. We have an old score to settle.”

“Of course. Lucifer. Why not?” Irena's dismal spark of laughter stuck in her throat, devoid of happiness and heavy on sarcasm. “Well, you've certainly given me a boatload to contemplate. Thanks.”

Alone. She needed time alone. Irena managed to corral him as far as the connecting door before he refused to budge.

“I'm not leaving.”

“Oh yes, you are.” She continued to push him toward the exit. “Unless you consider fear and insanity some strange aphrodisiac, you're not getting into these pants tonight.”

“From now on, this door stays open.” He stood his ground, arms crossed and legs wide. “Archon has made this situation a whole lot more complicated. I can't do my job without constant contact.” Chago lifted his chin. “Either this door remains open or we share a bed. Your choice.”

“Fine.” She glared up at his towering presence with all the force she could muster. “Allow me escort you to your room.”

She shoved him through the connecting door and slammed it shut with a resounding thwack before turning the deadbolt and stomping away. Fuck him and his delusions. She'd had enough of controlling, bossy men to last her a lifetime.

Irena clenched her teeth as righteous anger surged through her system. The bastard was lying. She didn't buy his tale of immortality and ancient prophecies any more than she bought wayward demons roaming the earth. He'd mentioned his boss would arrive soon. Good. She couldn't wait to get to the bottom of this horseshit.

• • •

Chago allowed her to herd him through the connecting entrance and swiveled to make a snappy comeback, only to confront a slamming door and the click of the lock.

Out of time and well out of patience, he grabbed his small leather pouch off the dresser, and extracted two picks. No way could she escape him that easy. Seconds later, the tumblers slid into place and the door swung open to reveal Irena's underwhelmed face.

Her blue eyes blazed, all angry fire and pissed off glory while her body shook with suppressed rage. “How dare you!”

She threw a punch toward his jaw. He ducked and caught her small fist in his grasp.

Temper flaring, Chago tangled his fingers in the hair at her nape and held her steady while his lips crushed down on hers in a possessive kiss. She stomped on his toe. Pain shot up his leg and he released her with a muffled curse. “Let me protect you, woman!”

Irena came at him again in a flurry of kicks and punches. He sidestepped and twisted, picking her up easily and tumbling her onto the mattress beneath him. Her chest heaved with anger and her eyes burned bright. Chago couldn't resist a bit of teasing. “If you wanted to be in my bed, mi carina, all you had to do was ask.”

She lobbed the alarm clock at his head, followed by a string of colorful Croatian insults, everything from his close association with a herd of inbred farm animals with questionable sexual orientation to the loose nature of his grandmother's affections.

He laughed and barely dodged a kick to his groin while grabbing the clock from the end of the bed and wrapping the cord around her wrists as a temporary restraint. After a crack of his knuckles and a smug smile, he stood and stalked to the half-open connecting door. One quick, hard punch and he broke off an entire section of the door, including the handle and lock. Problem solved. “This stays open from now on. No arguments.”

“Fine. I'll just call the desk in the morning and have them fix it. They can add the costs to your bill.” She wriggled free of her loose bonds and stood to face him, hands on hips.

“Try it, querida, and I'll have them move you into my room.” Chago lounged against the damaged doorframe with casual swagger, tossing the hunk of door in his hand like a prize baseball. She huffed, grabbed her pajamas, and headed for the bathroom. He couldn't resist one last taunt to her retreating back. “Goodnight, querida. Sleep tight.”

Irena hoisted her middle finger in his direction before locking herself away. He laughed and returned to his own room to hop in the shower. A short time later he emerged with a wet towel slung around his hips.

He proceeded into the bedroom and glanced into the adjoining room to find Irena climbing into her bed. She flashed him a mutinous glare before shutting off the light. Her yell held the whiney snip of a petulant four-year-old. “Stop staring at me!”

“I didn't think you cared, querida.”

“I am not your darling!” She sat up and hurled a pillow in his direction.

Chago yanked off his towel, aware the bedside lamp spotlighted his nakedness. Her shocked gasp echoed and he smiled as he switched off the light. Served her right. He'd not had a decent night's sleep since she'd arrived on his doorstep, courtesy of Divinity and her damned contract. Now it was time for a little payback.

Chago awoke the next morning to find Irena gone.

After throwing on a hotel robe, he performed a thorough search before finally locating her in the hotel café with Innocent. After a stern warning for them to remain there until he returned, he shot back to his room and rushed through his morning rituals.

Christ, the woman was impossible. He'd hoped for a lengthy discussion this morning, after their conversation the previous evening. Now, his plans were shot to Hades.

In serious need of caffeine, he rejoined his party in the restaurant and ordered a double espresso. Irena ignored him completely and prattled on with Innocent about the new clinic downtown. Just as well, since his thoughts were now occupied with Xander's impending arrival. Distracted, Chago checked his e-mail for their schedule with one hand while digging into his newly arrived breakfast with the other.

“Excuse me.” Irena rose and headed toward the restrooms.

He followed her every move, his mood darkening with each step she took. This was not how he'd wished this day to go and Innocent's ongoing talk of an upcoming attack on the insurgents did little to brighten his day.

“I like Miss Irena. Why you not marry her?”

Chago narrowly avoided shooting coffee through his nose and shot Innocent a mind-your-own-damn-business look. The abrupt change in topic made his tension headache worse. “We work together. Nothing more.”

“I seen lots of matches over the years. And dis a good one, yeah?”

Fantastic. Now he had a matchmaker too. He respected Innocent and didn't want to jeopardize their alliance, but he needed to nip this pipedream in the bud. “Sorry to disappointment you, but our relationship is strictly business.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Chago. Whatever you say.” Innocent shook his head and glanced toward the café entrance. “Speak of the devil, ain't that her boss?”

Devil was right. Sure as shit, Drake stood in the doorway and scanned the café. At the same time, Irena emerged from the restrooms and headed back toward the table. As a final insult, Turay entered the hotel lobby, heading for the front desk. The crappy morning exploded into a full-blown cluster fuck.

Never taking his eyes from Irena, Chago clutched the dagger at his waist and whispered low to Innocent. “We need to get to a secure location. Any suggestions?”

“Gots the perfect spot.” Innocent waited until Irena rejoined them then led the couple out a side door to the busy street before Drake had taken two steps in their direction. They all piled into a waiting taxi and Innocent gave the driver an unfamiliar address. Chago shot him a questioning look, but Innocent raised a hand. “Trust me. Safest place in me territory.”

Soon, the cab pulled up to a refugee camp on the outskirts of Kinshasa.

People rushed about in rags and insects buzzed everywhere. Emaciated children with open wounds and bulging bellies trudged beside mothers whose vacant stares suggested death and starvation. This was not his idea of security. “Why did you bring us here?”

A small crowd gathered around as Innocent passed out packets of crackers from the café. “This is the reason I fight.” He indicated the surrounding encampment. “Militia Base Camp.”