Of Love and Darkness (9 page)

“If this concerns me, I have every right to know what—”

William pushed open the door, interrupting her in mid-rant.

“He’s going to live,” William said wearily. His gaze swept over Gavin’s bare chest. Gavin was too damned exhausted to feel squeamish.

“Take a shower,” William instructed brusquely. “We’ll wait for you to debrief us.” He turned and left again.

Sydney jumped a little when Gavin spoke. “Are you joining me? I could use some help scrubbing my back.”

“The first time in almost a week you make an inappropriate suggestion and it has to be now?”

Gavin blew out a sigh. “I’m too tired to work at it right now, Sydney. I’m just going to apologize right now for anything I might say in the next couple of hours, because I’m bound to say something you won’t like. It’s too damn hard to keep up the pretenses right now.”

Sydney stared at him. “You’ve been pretending to be nice all week?”

Gavin scowled and unsnapped his jeans. “No. I’ve been trying not to piss you off all week. Fa—Jesus, do you have to read into everything I say?”

Sydney stood rooted to the spot while he peeled off his jeans. He paused as he hooked his thumbs into his boxers. “Am I to take this as a yes to my offer?”

Sydney gave a little start and then shook her head. “No, no. Sorry. I’m just, uh, leaving. Uh. I’ll be—uh, right.” Face flaming, she hurried out of the room, closed the door and then leaned against it, breathing heavily.

He’s trying not to piss me off
. It was, by far, the most romantic thing Gavin had ever said to her. And he used her name—again. Despite the gravity of the current situation, Sydney couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips as she strolled out of William’s bedroom.

The smile disappeared a short time after Gavin, wearing a clean pair of jeans and a basic white T-shirt, entered the living room. His hair looked as if he’d simply rubbed it with a towel and his unshaven jaw neared full beard territory, and for a moment, Sydney forgot everything else and contemplated inviting him back to her bedroom right then and there. Only this time, there would be no sleep involved, at least not for a long while.

Those thoughts disappeared with the goofy smile when Gavin stabbed a finger in the air and demanded someone escort her back to her bedroom immediately. The entire room full of shifters clamored to do as he said. She wondered when they had all determined he was their boss, rather than their enemy, as she shouted obscenities at him while she was forcibly dragged down the hall.

He set two shifters to guarding her bedroom door, because he knew damn well she would try to escape. He sent another one outside to stand guard at her window, and couldn’t help the smug smile when he heard her screaming from the bedroom, indicating she had been thwarted in her escape efforts. Whatever she wanted to think, he knew his Chala well.

The story he told was grim, which was why he wanted to shield Sydney from the details. He had no illusions that she would not find out what was going on, but if he could keep the most gruesome details from reaching her ears, he would. She was a proud woman and determined to be independent, but the fact was, she hadn’t grown up in their world, and the blood and gore would undoubtedly be too much for her near-humanlike sensibilities.

“They know about her existence,” he said grimly. “They ambushed that kid in there while he was making his way here to do exactly what you all are doing—courting possibly the last Chala in the world. They tortured him until he told them why he was in town.” He paused, let them absorb that bit of information.

“I figured they suspected her presence, after her blood was spilled the day she and I met. They can scent her, just like you all, but the difference is, Light Ones
sense
her as well. Obviously, you didn’t smell her all the way from California.” He waved at the shifter with bleached-blond hair and a perpetual tan.

“I thought, with so many of you here, it would actually mask her scent, if a Rakshasa got too close. I also figured they wouldn’t get that close to begin with, since they like to hang out in urban environments, where it’s easier to hide and there tend to be more humans in closer proximity. Easier prey. Less chance of getting caught.” He sucked in a breath, let it out slowly.

“So now they know. And they will come after her. It’s up to us to stop them.” He stood in the entry between the kitchen and living room, his feet a shoulder-width apart, his arms crossed, his gaze boring into each shifter in turn. Some sat, some stood, but Gavin was still at least three inches taller than any other shifter in the room. Only William was taller, thanks to his red high heels.

“I’m with you.” Jack leaped to his feet and stood in a poor imitation of a soldier at attention. “Just tell me what to do, sir.”

Sir?
Sir
? Gavin looked around as every other seated shifter began to stand, all with determined expressions on their faces, all turning to him for guidance and leadership.

He hadn’t meant to become their leader. He hadn’t meant to do anything, really, except to ensure Sydney’s safety. He wasn’t a leader. He hadn’t been a leader in over two hundred years, and the last time, he had been leading the other side—the very shifters who were now coming after Sydney. His life was full of one irony after another.

He lifted his hand in the classic “stop” motion, and pointed at William. “Not me. The Fate is the one you need to ask. She’s
his
responsibility. He needs to tell you what to do.”

William lifted his perfectly manicured eyebrows. “She isn’t
my
mate.”

“She isn’t anybody’s mate,” Gavin said in exasperation. “Why do you think you’re still here?”

William shook his head and waved his arm in an arc, encompassing the entire room. “You are their leader, Gavin. This is
your
Fate. Guide them. Lead them.”

The implication of his words was staggering. Gavin shot a hand out to steady himself against the wall, so he would not appear weak in front of his men. His men. His
army
, he realized, as he took his time scanning the motley group of shifters standing before him. Most of them were so rusty they might as well claim not to be able to fight at all. The rest had no more experience than the typical kid who got into a scuffle here and there at school.

“Fates damn me,” he muttered crossly. “What have I gotten myself into?”

He caught William’s smug smile out of the corner of his eye as he declared that training started at 10:00 a.m. and that everyone had better be up and ready. He then strode down the hall to face his biggest challenge of the night.

“Get out!” Sydney shrieked when he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

“No.”

“Don’t come near me,” she said, her voice barely more than a growl, as he advanced toward the bed.

He ignored her and began stripping out of his clothes.

Sydney was too stunned to do anything but stare at him as he pulled off his T-shirt and then tugged down his jeans.
He isn’t wearing boxers this time
. Nor was he turned on at the moment. His girth was still impressive, she noted with a blush.

He climbed into bed, leaving her standing next to it, feeling oddly deflated because she expected a fight. She had been relishing the idea, because she needed an outlet for her anger and frustration.

How dare he keep her out of an important matter that she knew, she just
knew
concerned her? He had no right to lock her in her bedroom while he told everyone else what was going on. She was so angry she didn’t even want to crawl into the bed with him. Which angered her even more because it was her bed.
He
should be the one to sleep on the floor. Or out in the garage, for all she cared. Aruba was looking better and better by the minute.

“Yes, it concerns you, Sydney.”

She blinked and focused on him. He lay in the bed, on his back, with the blankets pulled up to his waist. One arm was thrown across his eyes, presumably to block out the glare of the lamp she’d left turned on.

“And I didn’t want you in there because I didn’t think you really wanted to hear all the gory details of what happened to that kid. But if you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

“You will?” she asked uncertainly.

“I hope you have a strong stomach.”

“Just tell me why.” She inched closer. “Why did you show up on my doorstep, dragging a half-dead shifter with you?”

Gavin was silent for a moment, and then he blew out a breath. “He was on his way here to court you. Just like, it seems, every damned Light One in the frigging universe.” He moved his arm so he could look at her. His eyes glowed when he said, “They know about you, Sydney. Your life is now in imminent danger.”

“Oh, God.” She sank onto the side of the bed. As real as it had all become, it still hadn’t really felt truly
real
. Not until now. She lifted her gaze and looked at him. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

In a flash, Gavin reached out and hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her down on top of him. He put his hand on the back of her head and pressed her face into his chest.

“No,” he said, infusing the one word with every bit of determination he likely possessed.

She lifted her head so she could look at him. “I don’t want to die.”

Gavin offered a half-smile. “You won’t. You have me for a mate, remember? I used to be their leader. I know how they think. They won’t get past me.”

“But you aren’t my mate. Not yet.” But he could be. Only one thing stood in their way. It was her choice. She could make it happen. She only needed to decide if she wanted to.

No, she didn’t need to decide. She knew.

So she needed to decide if she was ready.

No, she didn’t. She was ready. She was more than ready. With that man and his overheated, sharply defined body sleeping next to her night after night, she was frankly surprised she hadn’t yet attacked him.

Really, there was no question, no reason they shouldn’t make it official. No reason at all.

None.

She scrambled to climb under the covers. “Make love to me, Gavin.”

“What?” His voice lifted high enough to rival William’s when he sang karaoke. He suddenly sounded far less sure of himself.

“Make me your mate. Right now. Let’s make it official. It will only strengthen the bond between us, and that will make it easier to protect me.”

“Uh . . . okay,” he said as his slow-functioning brain seemed to struggle with what she said.

Sydney reached into the drawer in bedside table and lifted a square piece of foil out of the box she had tucked in there. She held it up for his inspection. “But only if we use this. I know you believe my purpose is to produce children, but you’re going to have to go at my pace, Gavin. I’m not there yet. And I don’t want to worry about being pregnant while we’re fighting this battle.”

He hesitated, then wrapped his arms around her waist. “I don’t believe that is your purpose, Sydney. You have a far greater purpose than I can even comprehend. I just want you. I just want to feel you and to please you.”

“Oh, Gavin,” she whispered, as her eyes welled with tears.

Gavin groaned. “Don’t cry. I hate it when women cry.”

She sniffled and choked on a half-sob, half-laugh. “You’re such a romantic.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and flipped her onto her back, covering her with his body. She felt his erection pressing into the juncture of her thighs and she sucked in a ragged breath.

“I’m not romantic, Sydney. Not even remotely. I hope you can live with that.”

She wrapped her arms around his back and brought him closer. “I can live with that,” she assured him, and then she kissed him.

Gavin’s first sexual experience came back in a rush, like a crazy dream, except he was wide-awake. He couldn’t decide if that was bad or good. While it had barely lasted five minutes, he had still enjoyed himself.

Holy shit, he hoped he could last more than five minutes this time. This was Sydney, his Chala, the woman he’d come to, er, like. Maybe care for. Certainly appreciate. And respect. He wanted, no needed, this to be spectacular, for her sake. She deserved no less.

“Are you going to participate here?”

She had pulled away, broken the kiss, and he hadn’t realized it. He was too busy mentally preparing himself to impress her.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Are you sure about this?”

“You ask almost like you want me to change my mind.”

He cupped her face and stared into her eyes. “No. I don’t want you to change your mind. I just . . .”

“Are you worried I’ll regret my decision in the morning?”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you.” What the hell was wrong with him? He had well over three hundred years’ worth of sexual experience under his belt. He knew how to please a woman.

“That’s so sweet.” She kissed his nose and smiled, his beautiful blond imp.

Now she was calling him sweet. If he didn’t get this situation under control soon, he would have to turn in his man card.

“Fuck me, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Here. How about if I do this.” She wiggled out of her top. He stared at her bare breasts, milky white and peaked with roses. When he continued to stare, she grabbed his head and maneuvered it toward one of those tempting buds.

And he’d been worried she wouldn’t know her way around a bedroom?

He obligingly licked, and she arched her back, her mouth forming a silent O, her fingers tangling in his hair. When he suckled, her hands squeezed to the point of pain.

“Like that?” he asked, finally relaxing enough to realize it was like riding a horse. Okay, no, this was nothing like riding a horse. But he was back on top of his game. He knew what to do. He knew what she wanted.

“Not that,” she said, pushing against the side of his head when he kissed a trail up to her ear and flicked his tongue inside.

“Oh. Right.”