Forgotten in Darkness (33 page)

“Yes, that. And this curse isn’t over. It has just become more complicated.”

“You could’ve revealed this like two hours ago, when he could’ve stopped her,” Khyan said.

“But Dakar would not have stopped her, would you?” Cy asked.

“She deserves to live her own life.”
Only now I’m going to have to lurk on the periphery and make sure Djoser keeps his distance.

Cy said, “What kind of life will that be once you go insane and we have to terminate you? Sending her away has signed her death warrant one way or another. The rules still apply. If you die, then so does she. What I don’t know is if any other part of the curse will still be in effect. If you or she will want to murder the other.”

****

Twenty-four hours later Dakar stalked out of the main house. The others had convened in the main dining room for supper. The thought of food made his stomach sour.

Behind him he heard, “So…do you want to be my son-in-law?”

Revved with the need to pulverize, Dakar turned slowly to face Christian. He restrained his instinct to crack every one of the pearly whites grinning wide. “Leave me alone.”

“You’re being a fucktard. I want to know what you plan regarding my daughter.”

Dakar rolled his eyes. “You’re going to pull fatherly shit on me? Whatever.”

Christian said low, “She is not a one-night stand.” He threw a kick out of nowhere, catching Dakar in the side.

As Dakar flew backwards and slammed into the side of the house, he was reminded why Christian was always so good at fighting. Unpredictable.

Dakar reinflated his lungs with a huge air suck. He leapt up to catch Christian’s second kick at the ankle, twisting. Christian had fantastic skills and spun in midair, nailing Dakar with a boot to the face. His head shot backwards as tendons and muscles strained not to rip. The crunch signaled his nose had caved.

Good thing pain focused him. His
bochnori
surged, straining for freedom, which he denied.

Gravity yanked Christian down. Dakar couldn’t help but smile as the bastard’s head bobbed against the patio’s concrete. Still, he could’ve held onto Christian’s ankle and broken it. But that wasn’t the point of this exercise, now was it?

Christian popped up, six-inch serrated blade in hand and slashed for his chest. Dakar rolled out of its path, but the blade still managed to slice him up the side. Yet, his left boot dealt a direct hit onto Christian’s wrist, sending the magus’s metalwork skidding.

As he scrambled to a stand, Christian barreled into him like a charging bull. The pair of them slammed into the house. After a motionless moment of
fuck-that-stings
, Christian planted a left hook into his lower jaw, knocking his head against the wall. His peripherals lit up like fireworks. Damn, this felt good.

“What the hell?” Ashor roared. He yanked Christian away.

Ashor pointed at Christian. “This I don’t expect from you. Javen…yes. You usually have your shit together. Get out of here. Clean up and get your ass at that dinner table before Kira has a bloody conniption fit. It’s goddamned Wednesday and you know she’s insane about family dinners on Wednesdays.”

“And you.” Ashor pointed at Dakar. “You fucked up with your woman. Get off your self-pitying ass and go fix it. I suspect you’ve got that tattoo thing on lockdown. If not, I’m sure Christian’s head would be across the yard. If that had gone down, you don’t even want to know my level of pissed off.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Khyan said, materializing behind Ashor.

Christian shoved in front of Ashor and back into Dakar’s face. “You didn’t answer my fucking question. If you plan to consign her to hell because you’re whacked in the head, then I’d just as soon kick your ass into your next lifetime.”

Dakar wiped blood from his face. “After I get the
akhrian
to fix this mess, I’ll go get her.”

“And you’ll get on your knees and apologize,” Christian demanded.

“Something like that.”

Khyan winked at Christian.

Fucker.
Planned the whole godsdamned thing, no doubt. He narrowed his eyes at his brother, promising payback.

Khyan said, “I think we’re going to need to borrow a plane, Ashor.”

“Fine, but only after you both sit your asses down to a no-fighting dinner with my wife.” He stalked off grumbling, “Damned Wednesdays.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Two days. Had it really been that long since she’d last seen
him?
She’d eaten little more than a few vending-machine cheese crackers in that time, and even now at eleven p.m., she still had no appetite. And sleep…miserable failure. She didn’t expect tonight to be any different. Last night she’d tossed for hours until giving it up to watch reruns on the classics channel.

She pushed out of the campus’s main computer lab into the atypically cool night in Durham, North Carolina. Thunder in the distance explained the oddly non-muggy weather. If she had a choice, she would’ve spent at least another hour researching online through the computer’s databases, but the computer had frozen. The system forgot her password. The geeky computer-lab monitor had a stick rammed so tight up his ass that he wouldn’t let her get a new password tonight. She had to visit the system administrator in person tomorrow.

Shadows cloaked the quad despite the fact the school’s public safety office claimed the campus was safely lit. The
bochnori
shuddered, warning her of…something. She glanced around. Someone watched her? And now followed, even though she heard no footsteps.

She sped up, aiming for the archaeology building. Another three hundred yards. The department didn’t actually have its own building, more like a small section inside cultural anthro’s building. She ducked into the dark alcove at the corner of the stone building, and waited.

When a man rounded the corner, she stepped out. “Who are you and why are you following me?”

The tall Arab dressed in dark colors quickly masked his surprise. His left eye was eerily white with a cataract. “He warned me you were unpredictable.”

“Who warned you and who are you?”

“Terek Nadir sent me.”

“You mean Djoser. Why did he send you? To watch me?”

“To retrieve you.”

“I’m not interested. I’ve got work to do here.”

“Did I say you had a choice?” He withdrew a spray bottle as he approached.

The
bochnori
screamed a
hell-no-way
in her head. She performed a martial arts kick that would make any kung fu fan proud. The bottle sailed into a high arc. One point for her.

Her would-be kidnapper cursed and uttered a command. A snake shot from his jacket sleeve to wrap her throat.

Panic set in as the serpent tightened. She choked, trying to draw enough air to scream at the guy to get the thing off.

The Arab chuckled. “He said bring you in alive, but he did not specify unhurt.”

A shadow shifted out of the darkness in her peripheral.
Crap, he had friends?

The snake disappeared. Snake parts flew into the darkness over the Arab, who released a mournful whimper as his gaze tracked his pet’s carcass.

She coughed and gasped for breath. Dakar pushed her behind him.

What are you doing here?
she asked telepathically. Her heart sang out a relieved hallelujah.

He didn’t reply.

The Arab sprinted away.

Dakar pounced, tackling him to the ground. They alligator rolled for several seconds, before Dakar locked the guy into a headlock. “Run back to your master and tell him Dakarai is back. He cannot have her.”

“You’re not going to kill me?”

Dakar released and stepped away. He jumped playfully toward the Hashishin, who jumped back a few inches. He laughed and said, “Run. I might change my mind.”

The Hashishin disappeared into the night like a dog with its tail tucked.

When his gaze met hers, the longing in his expression was all she needed to know. The past two days had been just as hellish on him. She fought to keep the burn of tears out of her eyes.

She asked softly, “You just happened to be in the area?”

He closed in and wrapped her in his arms. He whispered into her ear, “I could not stay away.”

She wanted never to leave the familiar warmth and solidity of his body. Ever. She buried her face in his chest and inhaled his scent deep into her lungs. “I missed you.”

“I just…hell…I needed to see you.”

She couldn’t believe he was here. Any second now she expected to wake up with her saliva-smeared cheek stuck to a keyboard, having finally succumbed to exhaustion. But his presence didn’t change the fact he’d pushed her away. What kind of asshole does that? Especially after all they’d been through.

She blew out a frustrated, lengthy sigh and pushed away from him. “I guess we better talk. Follow me. We’ll go to my office.”

He trailed her like a silent, menacing panther as she slid her ID card through the card reader to gain access to the stone building. The smell of old mold intensified as she led him downstairs to the basement. She unlocked her cramped, shared office, which was little more than a glorified closet.

“My officemate is in China.” She turned on the overhead fluorescents and waved at one of the cluttered desks. As she pivoted, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. She recognized the determined eye squint and the set of his mouth. Whatever he wanted, he expected to get. Her backburner pissed-off smoldered. So what if her body sizzled, hypersensitive from simply being in the same breathing space with him. God, her nipples ached as they rubbed against her bra. She forced out, “Why are you here? Good timing, no doubt. But you seemed pretty determined to get rid of me two days ago.”

His fingers wrapped around her wrists to draw her close. He pushed her backwards until her butt hit the edge of her desk. Releasing her wrists, he allowed his hands to slide down her arms to her underarms. He removed one hand to push papers and notebooks out of the way. His hands slid down her body to her waist and lifted, planting her ass on the desk. As the arousal barely contained by his black tactical pants rubbed between her thighs, a surprised moan crested in her throat.

His head moved toward hers but skipped her face to whisper into her ear. “Remember the first time? After we left Djoser’s palace.”

Breathlessly, she murmured, “Yes.” She catalogued every nuance of him from the accelerated rise and fall of his chest to the high color of his cheeks to the pulse pounding in his distended neck vein. How much she wanted to feel that pulse against her tongue…to feel it race as she touched.

“I want you that much right now,” he purred.

“That was—”

“Unexpected. I should’ve taken my time and seduced you first.”

Don’t let him do this to you,
her rational mind screamed. One touch and she was a goner. He pulled her T-shirt over her head. She should stop this right now, but her body didn’t care to listen to rational thought. It wanted what he offered like a drug addict wanted a fast fix. He pushed up her lacy pink bra and latched onto a swollen peak. With a tiny surprised breath, her head tilted back and her eyelids went drowsy as sensation shot from her chest to the clenching vee of her thighs. Her body’s nerve endings happily screamed for the opportunity to quench the addiction of his touch that had been denied for days.

Without breaking oral contact, he dropped his tactical vest to the floor along with the thud of several weapons. Was there anything sexier?

Her hands pushed beneath his dark cotton shirt to feel his abs. And moved lower to undo the button fly. His breath hitched when her hands caressed him, released him.

His mouth left her chest and moved along her neck. Rough fingers replaced where his mouth had been on her chest and moved lower. He must’ve studied up on this century’s clothing. Her pants and underwear disappeared within seconds.

He hissed as her hands caressed him and partially wrapped him. “Bloody hell. Shaiani, it has been too long. I cannot play cat and mouse with you.”

“Ah, poor baby,” she whispered as his lips moved up her neck.

“You belong with me.” As the words slipped from his lips, two fingers speared into her slick core.

A cry tore from her lips as her back arched. She ached for more. For all of him. Damn him and the gods for this undeniable addiction. Resentment stepped aside, though, bowing to deep longing. She needed to lock his soul to hers as tightly as she knew hers would always belong only to him. For this alpha male, there was no other way than through primal sex.

She released the tie at his neck, his hair cascading around them. She ran her fingers through the strands. “I’ve always loved your hair. Streaks and all.”

His lips quirked. “’Tis why I kept it long. Only for you.”

She pulled his head toward her. Her lips latched onto his, screaming victory the second his lips parted. After that, control was a distant memory as her tongue sparred with his.

Gripping her hips, he surged. The heated burn of his repeated penetration had her fighting for breath as pleasure built inside her with an intensity she didn’t remember from earlier times.

Somehow every time with Dakar was always better than the previous.

His neck strained, the muscles and veins standing out with his effort to hold back his release. His eyes popped open, his gaze dark and intense. Rough with emotion, he whispered, “I missed you.”

“Dakar,” she moaned as he pushed deeper, faster. Muscles inside her clamped tight at the impending explosion. She couldn’t get close enough to him.
Please, more.

As if on cue, he shifted her pelvis to slam the bundled nerves that made her world turn into a starry sky. Her nails dug into his shoulder as her explosion detonated with a force that obliterated reality.

With a cry he joined her. All she could do was tremble weakly as he came, their bodies locked into a pleasure that was far beyond physical.

She’d more than missed him. Her soul craved him. Needed him. She loved him as she always had, completely and irrevocably.

The bad news was he might just dump her again after this booty call.

As Dakar pulled away from her he said, “Shaiani, I didn’t mean for us to, I mean I didn’t—”