Undying Hope (6 page)

“Close your eyes,” he murmured and was surprised when she did. He did the bare minimum of what was needed to get the blood out of her hair and off her face before he wrapped himself around her. The water ran cold before she shoved away from him and darted out of the tub. She grabbed a towel off the bar and wrapped it around her. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him. “I was fine.”

His brow shot up as his arms folded over his chest. “Really?”

She tightened the terry cloth around her as her head bobbed. “Yes. I like to freak out over blood in the shower alone.”

“Right,” he said as he took another towel off the bar and wrapped it around her shoulders before he guided her back into the bedroom. He wasn’t about to invade her privacy further by rummaging through her belongings, so he plucked one of his own T-shirts from the dresser drawer and pulled it over her head.

She seemed so small and infinitely breakable, standing there blinking up at him while dripping water all over the wood floor. Something inside of him swelled, and the darkness that had been looming over him, threatening to drag him into oblivion, lifted, and once again his life had a purpose. The reprieve from death and doom would only last as long as Haven had breath in her body, but this new feeling was there and pulsed through him.

* * * *

Haven sensed the power shift in the room. The change both calmed and terrified her. A load appeared to have eased off Quinn’s shoulders, only to be replaced by something else entirely. She glanced downward, not wanting to process any other odd idea tonight. “You’re making a mess of the floor,” she said softly.

“Sorry.” His tone was strong but gentle, almost tender. She took the towel that had been wrapped around her moments before and got down on the floor to mop up the water. He sauntered back into the bathroom, and Haven made the mistake of looking up when he came back out.

The tightly coiled muscles, the way every part of him worked in unison to make the movement of his body a work of art in motion sent erotic heat spiraling through her. A slow, wicked grin curved his sensual mouth, and he winked at her. “Just returning the favor.”

A blush stole across her body, which she imagined began at the tips of her toes and ended at her hairline the way Nathan, the werewolf, had teased her
about when she was a child.
Her cheeks grew hotter when she remembered how earlier she’d curled naked into his arms. She averted her eyes, trying desperately to wipe the delighted smile from her face. “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

“Why?” His voice was a challenge.

Haven waited until she was sure he’d put on pants and then chanced a look at him. “You live forever, and I won’t.”

The pants he’d chosen were of the black, drawstring variety, slung low on his hips. He crossed the room, dropped down onto the bed, and lifted a brow at her in the irritating way that he did. “Who said I live forever?”

She stood up and dropped the towel on the bathroom floor. “You did. Isn’t that what being Undying is all about?”

“I can be killed, and I can choose to grow old and die.”

His face was unreadable, but his eyes spoke volumes, making the ground beneath her shift. “But you won’t.”

“Why not? I’ve lived too long already.”

“You said you protect humans. Who will do it when you are gone?”

He lifted one of his broad shoulders in a shrug. “Bastian and others like him. My brothers. There are more. I am far from the first or the last of the Undying to walk the earth.”

She bit her lip. While the thought of him dying threatened to send her into a panic, she had to keep a firm grip on reality, at least the truth she was now living with. She shoved the images in her mind to the side and tried a different tactic. “I don’t know you. I’ve no wish to end up in one of those bad relationships I can’t ever escape.”

His face flashed dark and violent before his features softened and then went emotionless. “What brought you into that diner?”

She shrugged. “That’s not any of your business. You said you’d help Bastian and, for that, I thank you. My personal life is not any of your concern.”

His face set with determination. He was off the bed and stalking toward her a moment later. “You live under my roof. You used my water. I have a right to know exactly who is in my home and why she attracted a meirlock.”

She walked backward until her back touched the wall. “My grandfather wanted me to marry a meirlock, and I couldn’t, not with the way he treated Bastian.”

“Did you want to marry him?” Quinn demanded as power began to vibrate the few items on top of the dresser.

She pressed herself into the wall, trying to get away from the darkness seeping out of him. Her pulse quickened. “I kept saying yes no matter how badly I wanted to say no.”

His fiery gaze raked over her. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” she managed to say in a whisper. “But it was like this with him, this irresistible draw, one I couldn’t ignore, despite all common sense.”

Rage made his shoulders shake as he loomed over her. “No, it was different. What you felt for him was something altogether different.”

She wanted to turn away from the lethal gaze but couldn’t make herself do it. “How do you know?”

He lowered his head until his mouth hovered over hers. “Because I can make you want me as much as I want you. I can plant any thought I wish into that pretty little head of yours and bind you to me forever.”

Their breath mingled in an erotic charge of electricity. “How do I know you haven’t already?” Haven managed to ask in a whisper.

His voice turned raw, savage. “I’d already be inside you.”

She slipped her arms up between them, pushing at his chest, but he refused to budge. “You’re too close,” she breathed.

The single action of him taking that one step back made her realize his words were true. He did have the power to tie them together the way Mason had tried to bind her to him. It had taken years for her to break the hold, and then only after she’d nearly been killed and Bastian along with her. That night…when she’d taken Bastian and ran. Mason had found them and… Something occurred to her. “How did I get away from him then?”

“I suspect Bastian. He’s young, but our
treòir
can do strange things when acting to protect a…” His eyes met hers. “A person we care about.”

There had been something else he’d meant to say, but she was afraid to push him. She trembled with emotions she couldn’t sort out. “Then what am I feeling for you?”

* * * *

Donovan had no idea what the hell he was doing, but he knew exactly what he wanted. He just didn’t know if he had the right to that reward anymore. The best thing would be to take her to his brother, Wolf, until Kyros was taken care of, and then follow his original plan, but dying wasn’t sitting well with him anymore. The thought was enough to make his stomach turn. “I don’t know, Haven. What are you feeling for me?”

Perfect white teeth toyed with her pouty bottom lip before her eyes met his gaze. “You’re a good person.”

His voice was a murmur as he turned and walked to the large window overlooking the city below. “I’m glad you think so.”

Haven sucked in a breath. “I know things, sometimes.” She hesitated for a moment. “I’ve only been wrong once.”

“Were you? Or were you just unable to heed the warning?” He shook his head; the braid swayed with the action. “Don’t. I don’t need to know. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be busy.”

Donovan had to get away from her, and he needed to stay. Keeping the building from flying apart with a fit of epic temper won out. He left without a word and went back into the kitchen for another beer.

“Quinn?” Haven said from the kitchen door.

His shoulders slumped as he turned to face her. “What do you need?”

“To know what I did to make you angry with me,” Haven said.

“I’m frustrated,” he admitted. “And angry, but not at you. What was the name of the meirlock who proposed to marry you?”

“Mason,” she said.

“Earthshaker,” Donovan supplied for her, because he knew only one Undying with that name. “Mason Earthshaker. Not very creative, yes, but an apt description. Who is your grandfather?”

She took a tiny step into the kitchen. “M-Marcus Killian. He runs this—”

“Blood of Oberon!” Donovan swore before he could control his temper. “You’re a Killian. Damn it!”

Her face paled as she backed away, slamming her shoulder into the doorjamb. “I didn’t mean to be a Killian.”

He crossed the span of the kitchen in two strides, wrapped his hand around her throbbing shoulder, and closed his eyes. He was no healer like Riordan, but he could attend to minor injuries. His eyes locked onto Haven’s. “Marcus Killian is trying to ally my Black Rose with meirlocks?”

She made a humming sound before she twisted away from him. “I guess. I don’t know. I was just supposed to be marrying whom he told me to marry.”

Donovan was well aware he was making a colossal ass of himself, and Riordan would be here at any moment to drop the news on her that they were going to be mated until his death. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “All right. We need to talk.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” she said with that doe-eyed look.

“Have a seat,” he said and moved out of the way so she could without him hulking over her.

She perched on the edge of a chair. “Yes?”

“The Undying have something called a lifebond,” he started.

Her face brightened. “Mason talked about that. He said every one of his people had their own special mate and…” Her eyes went huge as she stood up, knocking the chair over as she backed up, shaking her head. “You’re kidding.” She laughed in that not quite mentally stable way people had. “Not us. It’s just not—”

“Haven,”
Medea said from the door, speaking in a way all could hear her. “
But he’s so loveable and even has a nice welping box already set up for me so that I can have my cubs here, where they will be safe.”

Her eyes dropped to the white wolf before she looked back up at him. “Rejecting you is bad, right?”

“Kind of,” Donovan said.

She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “Kind of? I’ve been dealing with a pubescent
treòir
for the last three years. I have had people following me and trying to drag me back to that godforsaken mansion. People have been butchered in front of me, and then you, the person who is supposed to be the answers to all my prayers, just pops into my life with a declaration of forever—and actually means it literally—and you expect me not to be slightly freaked out when you drop this on me? If you’re looking for another complete and utter meltdown from me, you’re doing a bang up job, pal. There is only so much I can handle in one sitting, and being your predestined soul mate is just…” She stopped talking as she shook her head and righted the chair before sitting down. “You know what? Sure. Why the hell not? At least you don’t give me the heebie-jeebies the way Mason did, and I am mildly attracted to you.”

“Was that a yes I heard?”
the
treòir
asked.

“
I have no idea. Let me deal with this.”
He ignored his power and focused on Haven. He could not handle another meltdown tonight. “My youngest brother is coming. He will fully explain more of this to us and give you your options. You’re not stuck with me if you really would rather not have anything to do with me.”

Haven rubbed at the shoulder she’d banged into the doorframe. “I am not completely ignorant to how supernatural pairings work. You don’t get any more choice in this then I get. We’ll figure us out, but I can’t take anymore tonight.”

He snorted. “And you were the one who was going to have Bastian take in five thousand five hundred years of history tonight.”

Her eyes snapped to his face. “You’re not that old, are you?”

“No,” he said with a chuckle as he pulled out a chair to sit across from her. “Two thousand five hundred.”

She gave a small smile. “I always did like older men.” She cleared her throat. “Let’s just take this slowly, all right?”

“We can do that,” he said. “I’d like to speak with Riordan alone when he gets here, and then you can ask him anything you wish.”

“When is he going to get here?”

“Any moment.”

“I’ll just go change and clean up the mess we made. Have Nikon tell me when I can come down.”

Donovan gritted his teeth together as he watched her flee the room. Not that he blamed her. He was behaving like a perfect ogre and couldn’t manage to get his head on straight enough to form a proper thought.

“He’s here
,
”
Medea announced just before the elevator door opened.

“Where is she?” Riordan asked as he walked in with Echo, a white wolf trailing behind him. Echo touched her nose to Riordan’s hand before she padded into the living room to be with the other wolves.

“Hiding upstairs,” Donovan said as he gave the bags a worried glance. “You trust me with food that needs to be heated?”

Riordan laughed at him. “Not likely, but I assume even the kid could manage a breakfast of eggs and bacon, even if the woman cannot.”

Donovan’s growl was low, bordering on unfriendly. “Thank you for the food. I am sure they will appreciate it in the morning, but I can hurt you. Nadia isn’t here to save your ass.”

“But you won’t,” Riordan said with confidence. He set the bags down on the counter and grinned at his brother. “I have information you need. That guarantees my safety.”

Donovan started going through bags and putting things into cabinets. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Possibly,” Riordan said. “The first thing you don’t do is tell her about your newly developed death wish.”

He dragged a hand over his face and slowly counted backward from ten. He was going to have to deal with this from every Undying male within the continental United States and possibly the entire world. Damn it, anyway. “I do not have a death wish!”

“Of course you don’t.” Riordan pulled out several slabs of butcher-wrapped meat and put them into the freezer for the wolves. “But tell me you’ve changed your view on a conversion.”

“I haven’t,” Donovan confirmed.