Darkness Undone (7 page)

“No,” Paxyn responded, tone flat, eyes a dull ebony. “We’ve searched homes, museums, galleries, even the labyrinth beneath the city for the Stone, and nothing.”

Sebris remained silent as he deliberated. Using the Empyrean to do the work held far more appeal, and it would mean a slower depletion of their abilities.

“There’s something else,” Paxyn said. He leaned against the doorjamb as if to keep upright. “Could be nothing. Reynner had a female with him last night when he tackled a horde of demoniis.”

A spark of anticipation jolted through Sebris at the information, a fresh rush of pain spreading beneath his skin at the elation. Finally, news he’d waited eons for.

He glanced at Taegér. The warrior’s darkening irises still held remnants of their blue-gold color. Good. He could hold out for a while longer.

“Shadow the Empyrean,” Sebris instructed him. “Xever, you and Paxyn have two days to equate, then I want you back.”

Once the two warriors had left, he turned to Taegér. His tone cold as the ice-laden seas of their dominion, he said, “I want that female.”

Eve found herself on a couch when she came to, the dizziness fading from her mind. Sunlight streamed into the semi-circular room from enormous windows with scenic views. Transparent white curtains fluttered in the soft breeze flowing in from outside. She frowned at the rough, dark granite walls surrounding her. The place appeared as if someone had excavated deep into a mountainside to form this space. It held a raw, rustic appeal.

Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Turning, she saw the huge man toss a smoky gray comforter to the foot of the bed then pull a matching sheet to cover the naked form lying on the bed.

Reynner!

Eve lurched to her feet and stumbled across the room to the giant-sized bed.

Reynner’s discarded clothes were in a heap on the dull, granite floor. He lay on his front, his face turned away. A gasp of horror escaped her when she saw the wounds across his back, like someone had used a blowtorch. Black, charred skin surrounded the open lesions, and they oozed bright red over darkened, drying blood.

“That looks awful... He won’t, he won’t—” She found she couldn’t say the word
die
.

Michael glanced up.

Eve gaped. Finally, she understood why he wore shades. His deep blue eyes appeared like splintered glass. An eerie silvery glow escaped from the cracks…

Otherworldly
, the thought seeped into her mind.

Uneasiness stirred at his piercing stare, like he could see into her soul or something.

“Don’t worry, he won’t die,” he muttered, straightening the sheets over Reynner. “He’s too damn stubborn for that. How long have you known him?”

“Not long—yesterday…actually, I’m not sure.” Eve looked out the window and at the bright afternoon sun. It had to be the following day, she decided, unable to make sense of time. “I met him on Friday night…” She explained about the mixed-up cell phones. “He offered me a ride home before those, er, things with red eyes attacked.”

Michael looked at her for a long second, probably making sure she wasn’t some nutcase spurting garbage then nodded. He crossed to a door at the far end of the room and disappeared inside, only to reappear a few minutes later with a container of water, a small glass jar, and towels.

“What where those things that hurt him?” Eve asked, her gaze on Reynner’s ruined back.

“Demoniis.” Michael set the items on the bedside table.

“
Demon eyes
?”

“Yes.
They
are what demons turn into when they first steal a human soul.”

Shocked, Eve pressed a hand to her roiling stomach. “Why?”

“To experience the light of a mortal soul.” He picked up a thick towel and tore it in half. “Once they steal a soul, the demon’s own dark spirit dies. To survive, they constantly need new ones because human souls were never meant for them. It fades, and the cycle starts all over again. That’s why we—Reynner and I and others like us—exist. We hunt and destroy them.”

God. Eve dragged both hands through her hair. This all sounded so unreal, like she’d wandered into an alternate world. But if she’d suddenly developed abilities after the accident, like being drawn into people’s thoughts when she touched them, then demons existing shouldn’t have surprised her.

I’m such an idiot. As if
I
could protect Reynner from those things.

“You need to be careful,” Michael said, folding the ripped terrycloth into an even smaller square. “Not only humans walk this realm. Others do, as well. And evil is one of them. In the future, don’t put yourself in dangerous situations.”

At least he didn’t yell at her like Reynner had. “What Others?”

“I’m sure Reynner will fill you in.”

Nodding, she watched as Michael laid a hand over the gaping wound on Reynner’s back. A silvery glow pulsed out from his palm. Fascinated, Eve leaned in closer. “What are you doing?”

“Aiding his recovery.”

“You’re like a healer?” She saw the slight smile tugging at his lips. It rearranged his hard features into a stunning visage.

“I’ve been called many things, but never a healer.” Michael dampened the square and started to clean the messy wound.

“Let me.” She hurried around the bed and joined him.

“No—” Reynner turned to them. Michael’s healing had awakened him. Sweat poured down his face and pain darkened his eyes to dull blue stones. Worry took over when she met his feverish gaze. “No, not her. Get Izzeri,” he rasped.

“Don’t be silly, I’m right here.”

His shoulder muscles bunched, causing a fresh spurt of blood to leak out. “No.”

“But—”

“Get. Izzeri,” he cut her off.

Eve stared at him, dumbfounded. He disliked her touching him that much?

“The Guardians are stubborn sons-of-bitches.” Michael’s tone matched the walls of the granite room. “Them, I
have
to deal with, but you—”

“Not interested.”

“—are an ass. Izzeri isn’t here. Either let her tend to you or wait until tomorrow. Your choice. It means you’re off rotation longer. You may not be a Guardian, but you will follow the rules. I don’t want you on Ear—in New York until you’re healed.”

He slapped a small bottle on the bedside table and said to Eve, “If he gives you any trouble, pour the damn thing down his throat—should knock him out and give his thick hide time to heal.”

Michael strode out of the room. Eve turned to Reynner and was seared with a stay-the-hell-away glare. The only reason she’d offered to help was because he got hurt trying to protect her.

“If you don’t want me tending to you,” she told him in a determined voice, “you’re going to have to get out of that bed and throw me out.”

She ignored his narrowing eyes, picked up the terrycloth Michael had discarded, and dampened it with warm water. Her hands shook as she reached for him. Despite her brave words, she expected him to jump up and physically toss her out of there.

When he didn’t, she hid her relief and carefully wiped away the blood smeared on his back. Awareness flowed through her at the warmth of his skin beneath her hand, the rock-hard muscles. She wanted to stroke every inch of his tan, sexy body—

Ugh! Eve forced her mind back on her task. Not wanting to hurt him, she kept her touch light as she cleaned off the mess. She dared a glance at him and her heart lurched painfully when she found his dark, intense gaze fixed on her.

Idiot. It means nothing. He’s just making sure you’re treating his injuries and not copping a feel of his gorgeous bod.

But ignoring him became a test of endurance when his burning gaze tracked her every move. She dropped the soiled towel, picked up the jar, and uncapped the ointment. A musty, mossy scent permeated the air.

“What is this?” she asked, needing a moment to calm her fluster.

“A potion. Helps heal the wounds from the hellfire bolts those dead bastards deal out.”

Her gaze flickered to him. Did he expect her to run screaming from the room now that she knew demoniis existed? At times, he frightened her more than those demoniis did!

Ugh, who was she kidding? Her attraction to him terrified her the most.

Taking a deep breath, Eve scooped up the green paste with two fingers and applied it gently to the wounds. “Will this help you? It looks really bad.”

“I’ll heal to fight another day.”

She stopped her ministrations, studied his closed off expression.

His detached response troubled her. Did he not care what happened to him? “Why do you hunt demoniis if you dislike it?”

“You misunderstand me. Destroying the bastards gives me one of life’s few pleasures.” The intense hatred in his voice appalled her. “Shocked you, did I?”

Yes, she was shocked. She was only trying to help. Did he think she was responsible for his current situation? Then she winced. Okay, maybe she was. So she remained silent.

***

Reynner gritted his teeth, pain and fever razing through him. He needed,
wanted
her touch… It soothed him.
No—no
, he tried to clear his hazy thoughts.
Females—they’re all the same…

He didn’t want
her
touching him.
Too aware of her…not good…not good.
Then icy dampness settled over the scorching fire of his wound, blessed relief hissed through him. Cool fingers stroked down the edges of the gauze and he shuddered under her gentle care.

There was something he needed to say, but whatever the hell Michael had pushed down his throat was fogging his mind, and her touch wiped out the rest of his lucid thoughts.

“What is this place?” Eve’s soft voice drifted over him like a tormenting caress.

“Exilum,” he snapped.

She stiffened at his harsh tone. A jagged breath barreled out of him. “It’s a retreat.”

Her hands came back, and another stroke of her cool fingers on his burning flesh. Soothing. Calming.

“Is this like a healing center? I hear water.”

“No. My home.”

“It’s er…nice.”

“It’s not
nice
. It’s a damn fortress, impenetrable and all that matters. Go wash your hands, don’t let that crap stay on you any longer.” Good. That’s what he’d wanted to tell her.

“Crap?”

Must she question every godsdamn thing?

“Blood, dammit. Now go.” He turned his head away, muttered, “I don’t want that shit tainting you.”

***

Eve entered the bathroom and stopped. She glanced around in appreciation at the grotto-like place with its huge windows overlooking a stunning view of the mountains.

Dropping the stained towels on the counter, she emptied the bloodied water in the white bowl-like basin. Then she stared at her hands as she held them under the open faucet, traces of Reynner’s blood washing away from her puckered skin.

His words had chilled her. Why would he say that? His blood appeared red like hers.

Filled with unease, she closed the tap and looked up. Faced with her reflection in the mirror, she cringed. Dear Lord, it’s a wonder Reynner didn’t mistake her for a ghoul. Her eyes appeared like dark holes in a face gone pale, in spite of her tanned skin.

Exhaling in annoyance, she rubbed her hands over her cheeks, hoping to get some color back, and went back to the bedroom. She stopped at the bedside to find that Reynner had finally fallen asleep. A relieved breath left her. At least he’d get some rest.

She re-checked the gauze over the wound and noticed the tie on his ponytail had slipped to the ends of his hair. Pulling it off, she sat beside him on the bed and combed the shiny strands away from his shoulder. They appeared like moonbeams sliding through her fingers.

“I’m sorry you got hurt because of me,” she whispered, her guilt expanding. “I should have stayed in the car—”

A knock sounded. Eve snatched her hand away, heat riding her face as the door opened. Her jaw hit the floor at the man striding toward her.

Where the heck was she? All the men here seemed to have walked right out of a fantasy world. He appeared to be younger than her, closer to Reynner’s height but leaner. He wore some kind of soft black pants. They molded to his muscled thighs and disappeared into well-worn, knee-high black boots. A white tunic with suede lacing in the front emphasized his muscular shoulders.

The guy’s silver eyes flickered to the bed then he turned that extraordinarily handsome face to her. “I came for a visit. But I see he is still out.”

Eve pushed to her feet. “Yes, he is.”

“I am Aerén.”

“Eve—Eve Leighton.” She hid her hands in the folds of her dress, hoping he wouldn’t expect a handshake. He didn’t. Instead, he lowered his head in a sort of half-bow, an
olde worlde
kind of gentility.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, to know he finally found you,” Aerén said. “You don’t know what a relief this is.”

Eve frowned at his solemn expression. Oh, he must mean about the cell phone mix-up. “Yes, he did. Don’t worry, it’s all sorted out.”

“I’m glad. Eve Leighton, you have my undying gratitude. If you are ever in need of anything, you can call on me.”

For returning Reynner’s cell phone?

“Er, thank you.” Her gaze went to his hair. How could she miss that? Pale blue, like a faded summer sky, it flowed to his shoulders.

“Perhaps you would join me for a meal?” he asked her, pulling her attention back to him.

Despite hunger gnawing a hole in her belly, she desperately wanted a bath, needed to get the grime from the alley off her before she ate. “I’d like a shower first, but I don’t have any—”

“Clothes?” His gaze glided over her again, but in male appreciation now. Eve wanted to roll her eyes.

“Not a problem. I’m sure Izzeri will find you something.”

Her tummy growled and she cringed in embarrassment.

Aerén merely said, “You should eat first. Come.”