Return to Me (Storm Lords) (4 page)

“Well, it appears we have a small problem.”

He sighed; one of the things he’d always hated about her was her insistence on playing games. “We do?”

“Well, to be more accurate,
you
have a problem. And unfortunately, it’s not particularly small.”

Torr gritted his teeth but didn’t say anything further. She would say whatever it was she had to say in her own good time. Pushing her would only slow down the process.

She smiled, a slight curl of her lips. “Someone has stolen your soul.”

Torr’s gaze shot to her throat. The jewel was missing. Since the time he had handed Lilith his soul it had always hung around her neck. Now it was gone. Adrenaline flooded his bloodstream and his heart raced. He took a step toward her, his hands fisted at his side. “What in the Abyss have you done?”

She closed the space between them, trailed one hand down his chest, and a shudder rippled through him. “You’re looking extremely smart, today, Torrin. Is there anything you want to share with me?” Her fingers raked through his long hair and he had to lock his muscles to stop from pulling away. “I think you’ve even combed your hair. What’s going on?”

Shit, she knew.

Torr grabbed her hand, and shoved it away from him. “What have you done with my soul?” He tried to keep the panic from his voice, but knew he had failed when a slow smile curved her lips.

“I had to take it off. It really didn’t go with my outfit today. I left it on the side table in my bedroom. When I came back”—she lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug—“it was gone.”

Darkness surged through him. “You’ve done this on purpose.”

She gave a little moue. “Why would I do that? Are you sure there isn’t something you want to share with me?”

“Who has it?” This time he managed to keep his voice expressionless and she raised an eyebrow.

“How would I know?”

“Don’t play games with me.” His fingers wrapped around her throat, and he slammed her back against the rock wall behind her. “Who has my soul?”

She stared at him, the smile still on her face, and the darkness roared inside him. His wings broke free, and knew his eyes had changed when he saw the world through a blood-red haze.

“I love it when you get angry,” Lilith purred. Her eyes gleamed with desire, her tongue flicking out serpent-like to moisten her plump lower lip.

The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils and he dropped his hand from her in disgust and whirled away. At the edge of the river, he stood watching the sluggish flow of the black water as he fought for control. When he had some semblance of a hold on his temper, he turned back to her.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Why would you think I want anything?”

“Don’t play with me.”

“You know what I want. I want you back. At my side. I helped you when you were down. I welcomed you to my realm and to my bed. I gave you access to my powers. Together we could have taken over the Earth, ruled over humans for eternity. Even Heaven might not have been beyond us. And you gave that up.” Her face was no longer amused or impassive; a rage that matched his own flared in her eyes. “Gave it up for what?”

“For love,” he replied, but she would never understand. He studied her, saw some emotion flicker in her eyes. “I did it for love,” he said again. “Love, and maybe a chance at redemption.”

“Redemption?” she sneered. “Go back to your human? You have a chance for greatness with me and you’d choose that? Well, you have five days and then you’ll be mine. So prepare yourself.”

She turned away.

Worry nagged at his mind. Was Lilith aware he had found Bella and this was a ruse to distract him? Or was she merely guessing. She couldn’t interfere directly, but she could make things difficult. He needed to get back to Bella. He would find out Lilith’s plans soon enough.

He opened the portal and was about to leave when she whirled around and threw him an insincere smile.

“I think Razul might have been around today. Maybe he has your soul.”

And she vanished.

Torr sank onto the seat in his office and stared at the screen. Bella lay curled up on the cream leather sofa, eyes closed, wearing a huge, black bathrobe, which covered her from neck to ankles and beyond.

Asleep, the sharp lines of her face were smoothed, and he could see his Soraya clearly in the curve of her high cheekbones, the softness of her lips. Pain pierced his heart.

How had it come to this?

All he had ever wanted was to keep her safe and by his side. To that end, he had risked his immortal soul and lost. Two thousand years ago, he and his brothers had stolen the Elixir of Life and given it to their mortal wives. As punishment, they had been cast into the Abyss. And his Soraya had been killed. He’d watched, powerless as they’d dragged her away, heard her calling his name as the angels tore him down.

He’d believed her lost to him forever and all he’d craved was revenge. And Lilith had offered him the chance of revenge beyond his imagination. All she had asked in return was his soul in her keeping, and his body in her bed. He’d seen no need for his soul at that point and had given it without thought. And he’d gone to her bed because he hadn’t cared enough to resist her advances.

His brothers became the Storm Lords and he their leader, the Destroyer. In those first years, he had bathed in the fresh blood of humans, fed on their warm flesh, slaughtered without conscience, his whole existence passing in a red haze of fury.

Eventually, those who had betrayed him were long dead and gone, and his rage cooled, but nothing replaced it, and he had moved through his life without feeling, as though in a void. He’d been going to take over the world and rule with Lilith at his side, and he hadn’t given a shit.

Until the angels came to him.

By that point, they’d feared him; he was too powerful to defeat by force. So they had told him the truth, hoping to break his allegiance to Lilith.

His Soraya had died, but because she had taken the Elixir of Life, her soul and those of his brothers’ wives were tied to the earth, caught in an endless cycle of death and rebirth. For a thousand years, Soraya had lived, breathed, and known nothing of him.

Lilith had been incandescent with fury, but she couldn’t hold him completely. Finally, they had come to an arrangement and drawn up the Covenant in blood, which would bind both sides. They would have one thousand years to seek their wives, but if they failed to find them in that time, then they must return to her. Torr would again be at her side, and his brothers would marry Lilith’s daughters. Torr shuddered at the thought.

But it wasn’t so easy. Lilith had made another stipulation. If eternal love truly existed then Soraya would know him. He had five days after meeting her again for Soraya to come to him of her own free will, and declare her love. In that time, Torr was not allowed to tell her the truth or reveal what and who he was. If he spoke of this then Soraya would be lost to him forever.

He’d never doubted that Soraya would see him and remember their love.

Until now.

She shifted in her sleep, hugging the robe closer. He wanted to go to her, couldn’t help the feeling that time was running out, but she appeared exhausted with shadows under her eyes, and he liked her like this. Asleep, he could believe that Soraya was in his grasp; that everything would work.

Day 2

As dawn broke, he let himself into her room. She slept on. He guessed she’d gotten little rest during her stay at the police station and she was making up for lost time. In addition, a half-empty bottle of champagne stood on the coffee table beside her.

Reaching across, he picked up the bottle and lifted it to his lips. The taste of her lingered on the glass and the once-familiar flavor of her filled him with heat.

He sank onto the chair opposite the sofa and watched her, until her eyes finally blinked open. For a moment, they gazed at him sleepily, and a smile hovered somewhere close. Then she snapped awake and any hint of warmth vanished.

“Hey, don’t I get any privacy?”

“I knocked but there was no answer. I was worried,” he added smoothly, but was unsurprised when her eyes narrowed on him.

“You and I need to get some ground rules sorted out.” She sat up, tugging the folds of the robe around her. “You’re in my space, and I don’t want to think you might be creeping up on me every few minutes.”

He took another swig from the champagne bottle, leaned forward, and handed it to her.

She eyed it warily but took it from him and lifted it to her lips. A jolt of heat hit him in the belly as she put the bottle in her mouth. Fascinated, he watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed. He shifted in the chair, crossing his legs. If she got any inkling of the effect she had on him, she would run so fast and so far, he might never catch up.

She placed the empty bottle on the table between them. “So, are you here to tell me about this job?”

“In a way.”

She scowled. “Look, don’t go all freaking cryptic on me. Just tell me why the hell I’m here and what the fuck you want me to do. Some sort of con I guess.”

“Not quite.”

“Jesus.”

She got up and stalked into the bedroom. Her little dog lay, curled up on the cream bedspread. It opened one eye, caught sight of Torr through the open door, and growled. Bella glanced around once and then slammed the door.

Torr sat staring at it, the hardness of his erection subsiding.

What seemed like seconds later, she emerged from the bedroom dressed in faded jeans, which fitted tightly to her narrow hips, and a black T-shirt with some sort of rock band logo on the front. She carried a pair of trainers and she plonked down on the sofa and pulled them on.

She wasn’t planning on going out was she? They needed to talk. “Going somewhere?” he asked.

“I have to take Skip for a walk, unless you like having your expensive carpets peed on.”

Torr saw her point. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number.

“Cade, I’ve got an important job for you.” He turned to look at Bella. “We need to talk.”

A minute later, a knock sounded on the door. Torr stood up and crossed the room to open it. Bella came up beside him, the dog on a lead at her side. She peered up at Cade, in his smooth business suit, and handed him the leash with a grin.

Cade looked at Torr, his eyes narrowing. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I never joke,” he replied.

Cade sighed but took the lead gingerly. “Okay. But you owe me.”

“And Cade,” Torr said, “we need a meeting this afternoon. Call the others in.”

“Trouble?”

Torr glanced at Bella; she was making no attempt to hide that she was listening avidly. But he wouldn’t keep secrets from her. Not ones he was allowed to tell anyway.

“We may have. I’m going to see what I can find out.”

“Okay. I’ll send out a call. Finn is here, but the rest could be anywhere.” Cade turned to go.

“Look after Skip,” Bella called out, but the dog seemed quite happy trotting along with Cade. “He seems to like him more than you,” Bella said as the door closed.

“I have a dog. He can probably smell him on me.”

“You do?”

He didn’t mention that the dog was actually a hellhound. A present from Lilith, but he didn’t hold that against the animal.

“So does this problem have anything to do with me?” Bella asked.

“No. It’s tied in with my partners.”

“Partners?”

“There are seven of us who own the company.” He waved a hand at the sofa. “Now, we need to talk.”

Torr had thought hard about what he should tell her. The truth—that they’d been lovers in a past life—was obviously out of the question, but he needed a way to get through to her. And quickly.

Somehow, she’d built a solid wall around her empath abilities, blocking them out. Having seen the file on her, he could understand why. Her mother had been a monster, and her life on the streets must have been hard, but he still needed to smash through that wall. Her past had made her afraid to love, but if she could see into his mind, she would know how he felt, know his feelings were genuine, and maybe allow herself to feel again.

***

Bella kicked off her trainers and sat on the sofa cross-legged. “So what’s the job?”

His smooth, suave, sophisticated appearance was becoming unraveled. Midnight black hair hung loose to his shoulders, and every time he ran his hands through it, Bella’s fingers itched with the need to know how it would feel. She sat on her hands, in case they reached out when she wasn’t paying attention.

He should have looked scary, with those yellow eyes and that scar, but she didn’t feel scared. Maybe it was the champagne.

Torr crossed the room and poured himself a scotch. He held the bottle up to her, but she shook her head. “It’s not even eight in the morning.” She wasn’t used to alcohol and perhaps now was not the time to experiment with its effects. He came back; but instead of resuming his seat opposite from her, he sat down on the sofa beside her, put his glass on the coffee table, and leaned back with a sigh, his long lashes flickering closed.

Bella shifted in her seat. He was having the strangest effect on her. She wasn’t used to men having any effect, and she tried to analyze the feelings as she studied him from the corner of her eye. He’d lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way, and his white silk shirt was stretched taut across his broad chest. Through it, she could see the faint shadow of dark hair. The shirt was open at the throat and her eyes were persistently drawn to the triangle of skin revealed. Her gaze drifted lower to where the shirt was tucked into the waistband of his black pants. His belly was flat, hips narrow, legs long. She tried not to stare at the bulge of his groin, but her eyes kept flicking back. Finally, she forced herself to look away and out the window.