Until Darkness Comes (20 page)

***

Olivia’s fear slammed into his chest like a bucket of cold water. He instantly tensed and blocked the energy he hadn’t realized was flowing from him at such intensity. He jerked his hand out from under her shirt as if she’d been the one who burned him. Guilt and shame rose up inside him on a wave of self-disgust. How could he have been so careless? He rolled off her with preternatural speed, desperate to put some distance between them.

Dammit! He’d hurt her. She would deny it, but he knew he had. He felt it in her jolt of fear the second his touch burned her. He thought he could control it—more like deluded himself into believing he could.

“I’m so sorry, Olivia.” He kept his back to her, not yet able to face her. He couldn’t stand to see the fear in her eyes, or the pain on her beautiful face—pain he’d caused by his careless touch. He’d tried to tell her. Hell, Max had even warned her. She couldn’t be his. Laws were set in place to prevent this from ever happening again, and not even he could defy the order of the universe.

The grass rustled behind him. The heat of her body pressed against his back. Oh shit, did she have any idea what she did to him? “Don’t be sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

Her sweet warm lips brushed against the side of his neck. He forced back the surge of energy that instantly rushed into his veins. “Olivia, you have to stop touching me.” He couldn’t even recognize his own strangled voice. She didn’t stop, in fact her tongue brushed against the spot on his neck that she just kissed. This was nothing short of pure torture. “I mean it, Olivia. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” Her hands slid down the front of his chest. He reached up, grabbed her wrist, and spun around to face her. “Yes, I did. I felt your fear, you can’t lie to me.” He lifted the hem of her shirt. “Look at your side, Olivia. My hand print is burned into your flesh. I hardly touched you, and this is what happens.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” she protested.
“It will in the morning, that I can assure you,” he snapped in disgust. “This is what I tried to tell you in the car.” He stood up from the plush grass and looked down at her. She sat in the blanket of green, looking up at him with eyes the same color. Her legs were tucked to the side, her weight leaning on the one arm, propping her up. Her beauty verity took his breath away. It was physically painful to look at her. “
This
can’t happen, Olivia. You can’t imagine how badly I wish you were mine, but you’re not.” He took a step back, because all he wanted to do right now was move forward.
A single tear rolled down her cheek, hitting him in the gut like a sucker punch. “I don’t want you to go,” she begged softly.
He sighed, sitting down on the loveseat swing in her front yard. “Come here,” he whispered, holding his arms out for her to join him.
Olivia got up and climbed into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, and she tucked her cheek into his shoulder. The swing creaked softly as they rocked back and forth. Neither one of them spoke. He was content to just hold her, and after a while, her body relaxed. In that fleeting moment, his world was perfect. Olivia was wrapped safely in his arms where nothing could harm her. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the swing. For these few stolen minutes she was his, and he was hers, and the rest of the world ceased to exist.

Max had hoped he’d have better news to report. Unfortunately, Olivia was still alive, but it certainly wasn’t for lack of trying. He reluctantly walked down the long musty hall leading to the main chamber of the Dark Court. The smell of smoke and sulfur grew stronger with every reluctant step. Candles hung scattered along the wall, providing small bursts of temporary light. Blood red wax overflowed into dried hard trails, oozing down the wall, pooling on the floor.

As he pushed through the double doors, the canine welcoming committee snapped viciously at his heels when he walked past. He resisted the urge to drill the heel of his boot into the side of their heads—disgusting little bastards.

This wasn’t going to go well. His hold on Olivia was gone, and now she knew about her sight. Could this possibly get any worse? He’d underestimated the warrior, or maybe he’d overestimated himself—maybe both. He’d answer for that now.

“Max,” Lorca’s snaky voice dripped with disdain. “It’s been a while.”
Not long enough…
“Tell us, what is your progress with the girl?”
Like you don’t already know.
“The girl has turned her interest toward the warrior.”
“As we expected, and what have you done about it?” Lorca steepled his fingers thoughtfully as he waited for an answer. A shiver of disgust crawled up Max’s spine. Lorca’s large weepy black eyes bore into him as it they might penetrate his soul. Lucky for him, he didn’t have one anymore.
“I have made a few attempts, but the warrior is always with her. He sees through the trap, so getting her unprotected has been difficult.”
“So remove him from the picture,” Gahn chimed in, as if the answer were so simple.
What a great idea, asshole. You think I haven’t thought of that?
“The girl is the last of her kind. We’ve come too far and waited too long to risk exposure by some paltry human!” Lorca snapped.
“I understand.”
“Do you? Do you really? Because if you can’t get the job done, we’ll find someone else who can!”
“We should have found the Nephilim,” Gahn growled, glaring at Lorca. “Haden would have gotten this done by now.”
“Well, if you hadn’t driven him into hiding, maybe that would have been an option!” Lorca hissed back.
“Look, I can do this,” Max snapped, interrupting their little lover’s quarrel. “I just need to figure out how to get the warrior away long enough to get my hands on her.”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult,” Lorca interjected. “Didn’t you say the girl and the warrior had become involved?”
“Yes, but to what extent, I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t matter. Angelic/mortal relations are absolutely forbidden. The High Court cannot deny that, nor can they make an allowance for the girl. Rules are rules. They’ll be forced to address the situation immediately.”
“Rowen will be sent to inform the High Court of this discretion,” Gahn said. “Be ready to move on the girl when the warrior is called to court. Don’t fuck this up, Max. You will not be given another chance!”
“It will be taken care of,” he assured them, turning abruptly, anxious to take his leave.
“For your sake, it better be. We’re tired of waiting.”
We’re tired of waiting.
Max fumed as he stormed out the chamber doors.
If you think dealing with the warrior is so easy, why don’t you get off your high and mighty ass, and take care of this yourself!

***

Balen sat in the dark at the kitchen table, unmoved since Liam and Olivia left. The floorboards creaked above his head. He glanced over at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, it was 2 a.m. Didn’t that female ever sleep?

The soft pad of footsteps grew louder as she walked down the stairs. The light switch beside his head clicked on as she walked by, and bright light filled the kitchen. He squinted against the glare, waiting for his vision to adjust.

She wore a thin cotton nightshirt that was nearly sheer in the lighting. Ashley stood on her tiptoes, reaching toward the top shelf of the cupboard. His eyes slowly trailed over her profile—the gently flare of her hips down her long bare legs. Tingling heat shot through his stomach, and spread lower. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, but the friction of his jeans only seemed to make things worse. She turned a little, and his eyes instantly fell on her bruises.
Holy shit! Was that a bite mark on the inside of her thigh?

The irritating tightness in his groin vanished with that cold hard slap of reality. He forced himself to look away, unable to bear the mental images her injuries conjured.

A groan escaped her lips as she reached again for the top shelf. Her arm wrapped protectively around her chest, splinting her ribs. He sighed heavily and stood up from the kitchen table, walking up behind her as she struggled to reach. Her fingertips nearly brushed the bottle of pain killers. Being careful not to touch her, he reached above her head and flicked the bottle of Vicodin off the top shelf.

The bottle of pills landed on the counter, and Ashley leapt back, yelping in surprise. Balen jumped out of the way before she could crash into him, slamming himself up against the adjacent counter. He carefully inched along the wall and sat back down at the table, anxious to get away from her.

Ashley grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. She drank down the pills, set the glass in the empty sink, and slowly shuffled past him. The sheer cotton gown outlined the shape of her breasts as she leaned forward and reached for the light switch above his head.

Look away!
Damn, his blasted eyes wouldn’t seem to obey. She stood less than an arm’s length away. So close— too close. The temptation to reach out and touch her made his fingers tingle with anticipation. He knotted them into fists and held his hands to his sides. Ashley clicked off the switch, leaving him to sit there in total darkness, images of her burned in his mind.

Balen groaned and leaned his head back to rest it against the kitchen wall.
This can’t possibly be happening
.
Several more excruciating hours passed before he felt her turbulent emotions simmer. She’d finally fallen asleep— thank God! His mind could finally rest. The ache in his chest slowly began to subside. He stood up from the kitchen chair and stretched his cramped muscles and aching wings. He glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall—9 a.m. undoubtedly, that had been the longest night of his exponentially long existence.
A car pulled into the driveway, and Balen immediately tensed. He pushed aside the lacy kitchen curtain and peered out the window. A young man climbed out of a silver Escape, pacing anxiously in front of the car a few times before stepping up to the sidewalk. Balen scowled. No way in hell was this guy ringing the doorbell and waking that emotionally wrought female up. She was exhausted. He was exhausted. And the sooner she woke up, the sooner he’d be stuck with her again, and quite frankly, he needed the effing break.
He crossed dimensions a second before the young man reached the top step. His hand was lifted, finger pointed at the doorbell, when Balen swung the door open. The startled guy leapt back, looking as if he might need to go home and change his shorts.
“Can I help you?” Balen’s attempt to sound kind and civil was a big fat swing and a miss.
The young man stared up at him in open-mouth shock.
“You leave that thing hanging open and you’re bound to get a fly in there.” Damn, he felt surly. What in the hell had that female done to him?
The guy clamped his mouth shut. “I’m, uh, I’m here to see Ashley.” He nervously cleared his throat. “Is she home?”
Balen paused a moment, eyeing the anxious young man. He should take pity on the poor fella, but some remote part of him had no interest in encouraging the guy’s attentions. Without the dimensional buffer between them, his protective nature grew stronger with each passing second.
“Who are you?” Balen demanded, not even attempting to conjure up niceties.
“Nate,” the young man answered. His spine straightened, shoulders stiffened, bringing him to about sixtwo, an impressive mortal size. His shock must have finally worn off, because his voice grew deeper—stronger, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it edged on pissed off.
“I’m a friend of Ashley’s.” He looked up at Balen, boldly meeting his eyes. “Who are you?”
Balen didn’t appreciate having the demand thrown back at him. He didn’t answer him, having no intention of explaining himself to this lovesick kid. “Ashley’s still sleeping. She had a hard night. Maybe you should come back later, at a more reasonable hour.”
He didn’t wait for Nate to reply, and abruptly closed the door. It didn’t latch. He looked down at the floor and saw the tip of Nate’s boot sticking in the doorway. Balen swung open the door and gave him an annoyed scowl that had sent many an angel scattering in the past. Lover-boy stood his ground. Damn, he sure was persistent—and stupid.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“That’s because I didn’t give it. Now kindly remove your foot from the doorway before I do it for you. If you want to see Ashley, come back this afternoon.”
He stared down expectantly at the toe wedged in the doorway. Nate reluctantly slid his foot away, and Balen firmly closed the door in the guy’s face.

***

Max stood on the hill behind Ashley’s house. Her open bedroom window beckoned to him like a sea siren. The breeze blew her curtains aside, revealing glimpses of bare legs and tangled covers. Taking her into his bed had been more enjoyable than he’d ever expected, but a mistake nonetheless. Or maybe letting her live afterward had been the mistake—he’d never done that before. Either way, he was connected to her now, unable to get the thought of her out of his mind, or the taste of her off his tongue. He found himself lurking around her house like some lovesick teenager, wanting more of her, craving the feel of her soft smooth skin.

Maybe he would keep her when this was over, bring her back to Sheol with him. He could waste many hours, many a days, buried in the soft moist folds of her flesh. Getting her across dimensions alive would be tricky, but the way he saw it, the Dark Court would owe him after he killed Olivia, and he had no doubt they could get her across…

He had no feelings for the girl beyond carnal lust. He was incapable of true affection, but until he had his fill of her, she was his, whether she liked it or not. But if memory served him right, she had liked it—she’d liked it a lot.

A smile touched his lips at the remembrance of horror on Olivia’s face when she found out that he’d been with Ashley. Unfortunately, Liam had stopped her from touching him. If he hadn’t caught her in time, this would all be over by now. Oh well, no matter, it will all be over soon enough. With the High Court’s involvement, Liam would be forced to return and answer for his indiscretion. Without the warrior’s protection, Olivia was as good as dead.

On that happy note, Max made his way up to the house and let himself in through the open bedroom window. She slept restlessly, sprawled across her bed. He watched her for several minutes as she tossed and turned. The bruises and bite marks on her pale flesh drew his eyes to her inner thighs and he hungrily licked his lips before silently lowering himself over her to taste the flesh that had consumed his thoughts since the night he’d claimed her.