She inhaled, let it out on a shaky sigh. “Well, this is damned inconvenient.”
Yes and no. He had been so caught up in her, he had almost forgotten his mission. Men should never lead with their dicks. He should have known better.
“Mandy. You have no idea how much I want to … linger here with you. But you and I both know this can never be.”
The soft, dreamy look in her eyes died. She pushed away from him. “Oh, of course. How convenient for you to figure that out now. I get it. Thanks. You can go now.”
He knew he was going to hurt her, that she was going to take this wrong. “Mandy.”
She skirted around him. “Get out of my bathroom, Michael. I need to shower and pack.”
“Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine now.”
He didn’t believe her. Nothing about this was fine.
And if he was a lot less honorable, he’d take a few extra minutes—or an hour or two—and finish what they’d barely started. Because he wasn’t finished with Mandy Not by a long shot.
But he was right. Where was this leading? He was a Keeper. Keepers that had … mates, put those mates in danger. The Sons of Darkness didn’t want Keepers to continue the line.
Being with Mandy would put her at risk and he refused to do that to her.
He couldn’t lead her if he allowed anything to happen between them. He couldn’t help her if he got too close to her. And helping her, making a good hunter out of her—that part was his job.
Wasn’t it?
Hell.
He grabbed his clothes and dressed, then went to his room, took a quick shower, and packed up. By the time he went back into her room, she’d already showered, her damp hair pulled up into a ponytail. She was dressed and jamming things in her bag, her back turned to him. He wanted to go to her, to kiss her, to taste her again, touch her skin, breathe her in, to spend hours—days—hanging out with her. He craved being with her, felt cheated because they’d only just started. But what he wanted and what he had to do were two different things.
Just like always.
“I’ll be downstairs in a few minutes,” she said.
“Fine.”
He left the room, hoping she’d understand, that they could talk on the road, but he had a feeling that what had just happened had driven a wedge between them.
And just when they’d started to make progress. Now he had to figure out what happened to her tonight, what was going on in her head. Yeah, she’d killed a demon, but it had cost her.
Too much to talk about. Nothing resolved. Mandy’s issues, these new demons they’d discovered, not to mention the biggest issue of all: the two of them.
Now everything would have to be put on hold, because they had to go find Dalton and deal with him.
Shit.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dalton sipped the steaming cup of black coffee and stared out the window at the gathering storm clouds marring the normally blue and orange sunrise. Thunder rolled from a distance. There’d be no doing anything outside today. He gave it an hour, max, before the storm arrived. The clouds were an angry gray, tumbling over one another, seemingly in a hurry to get wherever they were headed. They gradually obliterated the morning light and cast a dismal pall over the cheerful morning.
How freakin’ appropriate.
He opened the front door and stepped out, barefoot, wearing only the jeans he hadn’t bothered to finish buttoning. He hadn’t put a shirt on; the morning humidity was overbearing, another curse of the coming storm.
The weather suited his mood. Ominous, angry, expectant.
A lot had happened last night. Everything had changed. He couldn’t go back. Isabelle knew so much now. Did it even matter?
Loving her would change nothing, in fact would likely make things worse. Every decision he made from here on out would be affected by his love for her, and knowing how she felt about him.
And doing this alone, without the help of the Realm, of his friends, sucked. Last night as he lay awake in bed, he had actually thought about picking up the phone and calling Derek.
But in the end, he hadn’t been able to make the call, because a part of him wasn’t sure Derek would take his side, and he wouldn’t take that chance and risk Isabelle’s life.
It didn’t matter anyway, because the Realm was coming. It was only a matter of time. He sensed them drawing closer—both a comfort and something else to ratchet up the sense of urgency. His time was running out. Which meant he could either wait and hopefully enlist their aid, using the demon hunters to help him with Isabelle, or hurry it along without them so it would be done before they got here.
Part of him wanted it to be over.
A larger part of him wanted to drag his feet. He’d just found Isabelle. He wasn’t ready to lose her yet. And if this worked, he would lose her. Forever.
But wouldn’t he have what he’d waited all this time for?
Redemption.
He’d be what he was meant to be.
Because he wasn’t a human. He wasn’t supposed to be here, living this life, loving the woman sleeping in the house. He was stealing love from her, love he wasn’t entitled to. They had no future together; there was no tomorrow for them. Individually, there was a promise for a better life for each of them. But not together.
He heard her behind him, her soft bare feet padding on the dock.
“What are you doing out here?” She came up next to him, cup of coffee in her hand. Her hair was sleep-tousled, her eyes had a dreamy quality about them … and something else.
He put his arm around her. “Watching the storm come in.” He kissed the top of her head. “You okay?”
She nodded and leaned into him. “Had a nightmare. Nothing new there.”
He frowned, not liking that she still wasn’t settled. He smelled the tinge of rain in the air and the wind had picked up, whipping her loose hair against his chest. He steered them back toward the house, not wanting to end up caught outside in a storm again.
Once inside the house, they refilled their coffee cups and sat at the kitchen table.
“Tell me about your nightmare.”
She shrugged. “It was nothing, really.”
“You’re starting to remember them now, aren’t you?”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Yes.”
So her mental progress was moving along, which was good. “Okay, so talk to me about it.”
She inhaled, lifting her shoulders, then rolled her head from side to side, but she sipped her coffee and didn’t say anything. That meant the dream disturbed her. Or else he was in it, it was bad, and she didn’t want to tell him about it.
“Isabelle, you can tell me anything. I can handle it. It’s just a dream.”
“The demon in me felt like it was in control while I was asleep. It went to the Sons of Darkness. I saw all of them. Tase was surrounded by flames.”
She wrinkled her nose as if she found the mention of Tase unpleasant. He knew the feeling. He didn’t like dredging up the memories, but since his life had been all about dealing with the Sons of Darkness, he’d learned to live with facing his demons, both metaphorically and in the physical form.
“The others stayed away from him. For some reason, in my dream I didn’t avoid him. I went to him and he hugged me. I remember heat surrounding me, so strong it felt like I was burning alive. And yet I welcomed it. It’s what I wanted.” She rubbed her arms with her hands, as if she was trying to cool down her skin.
“Tase told me that you were using me. He said you were going to kill me as a way to gain your redemption, that I had to save myself and I shouldn’t trust you.”
His lips lifted. “Not bad advice, actually.”
She frowned and crossed her arms. “That’s not funny.”
“It has to be partly your own subconscious giving you these dreams, Isabelle.”
“Is it?”
“Do you think they’re somehow tuning in to what’s happening between the two of us
, then giving you advice in your dreams? Don’t you think some of what you’re hearing has to come from your own misgivings? About where you are, what’s happened to you? About how you’ve felt about me?”
“I do trust you, Dalton.”
“But up until now you’ve known very little about me. You had no reason to trust me. Sure, the Sons of Darkness might be prodding you. But I think some of it comes from you, too.”
She leaned forward, laid her head against the palm of her hand, and took a sip of coffee. “I don’t know anymore. These dreams are so vivid, unlike any dreams I’ve had before. It’s like as soon as I fall asleep I’m transported, like I’m really with them. Every sense comes alive. I can feel everything—the heat, the crisp cut of their clothes when I touch them. I smell the acrid burning odor when Tase enfolds me in his arms. I shiver when I step away from him and am surrounded by the others, because they are completely the opposite of him—ice cold. It’s all so clear, no dreamlike quality to it.”
“I slept next to you last night, Isabelle. Or I should say I lay next to you all night, because I didn’t sleep. Trust me—you were there the entire time.”
She sighed. “I don’t claim to understand it, Dalton. You probably would better than me. I just know it feels so real. Like I’m there.”
“Are you thinking the Sons of Darkness have some kind of control over your soul—that they’re actually transporting you, just not physically?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. Is that even possible?”
“No. Trust me when I tell you that all of you was here last night. Just like when they come to you during the daytime, all of you is still here. They’re screwing with your head, making you doubt yourself—and me.”
She nodded. “The logical part of me understands that. But it’s so easy to believe in the darkness.”
He reached out, stroked his palm across her cheek. “Maybe it’s time you start believing in the light.”
“What if I don’t think I’m deserving of it?”
“Try harder. I believe in you. I believe we can take that darkness within you and make it manageable, so that you can control it and live a normal life.”
She smiled. “I’ll try harder.”
“That’s my girl.”
Thunder cracked and lightning lit up the dark sky. Isabelle jumped at the sound and Dalton held her tighter. He knew she was skittish, no doubt frightened, and probably confused as hell. The weather wasn’t helping, especially since the sky took that moment to open and dump its contents in a hellacious downpour, accompanied by nonstop arcing lightning and thunder so loud it hurt the ears.
“Let me show you something,” he said, backing away from her, but still holding on to her hand.
Dalton led her into the second bedroom, the one he’d taken as his own when they’d first arrived. He motioned for her to sit on the bed, then he went into the closet and dragged something out of the back, wrapped in an old, worn cloth.
“What’s that?”
He laid it on the bed and began to unwrap it, the cloth falling apart as he did.
Isabelle gasped as Dalton unveiled a sword, about a foot and a half long, gleaming bright in the semidarkness of the bedroom. The intricate scrolling pattern on the scabbard was like nothing she’d seen before, as was the writing on the blade.
“May I?” she asked.
He nodded, and she lifted the blade, which seemed so light, not heavy as she thought it would be. “This metal seems so unfamiliar. What is it?”
“Nothing that’s made on earth.”
Her gaze snapped to his and she laid the sword back on the bed. “What is that, Dalton?”
“It used to be mine. A long, long time ago. It’s the sword of the Guardians, a weapon we used to fight the darkness.”
She stared at it in awe. “To fight demons.”
“Yes.”
“Where did it come from?”
“It’s always been here. It was left behind when I was banished. And when I returned, I left it here.”
“When was the last time you used it?”
“That night I killed Ratineau.”
“So you used this sword to kill a human.”
He picked it up, his fingers curling lightly over the scabbard. “The sword lost its power that night, too, just like I did. But I’m hoping we can rectify that.”
“How?”
“With your blood. And mine.”
Isabelle tried not to let the tiny leap of fear show on her face. She meant what she said when she told Dalton she trusted him. She’d come this far with him. He knew what he was doing, and she was putting her life in his hands. She wouldn’t still be alive if it wasn’t for him, anyway.
“Okay. Do you want to explain how?”
“Georgie will help us. She’ll conduct a voodoo ceremony. During the ceremony, you and I will use the sword, slice into our hands, mingle our blood. And we will call upon the spirits to give you back your strength, your humanity, so you can fight the Sons of Darkness. Our request will be to empower you so that the human side of you becomes stronger than the demon side.”
“Georgie has that kind of power?”
“Alone? No. But with my help, yes.”
Isabelle leaned back against the bed, staring at him in wonder. “Every time we talk, I learn so many more of your secrets, and I’m just so amazed by you.”
He laid the sword down and reached for her hand, kissed her palm, tucked it between both of his. “I’m not a knight in shining armor, Isabelle. I’m a fallen angel. I’ve made more mistakes than I’ve done good. Don’t put me up on a pedestal because I’m more likely to disappoint you.”
Her bottom lip trembled and tears filled her eyes. “I think you’re too hard on yourself.” She raised up and kissed him, the brush of her lips so tender it made him ache inside. “I love you. You love me. There’s strength in that. We’ll figure this out together.”
That made the ache even more painful. This love, this human thing that he never quite understood, was becoming all too clear to him.
Losing it was going to kill him.
“The Realm will be here soon.”
She stilled, pulled back. “What? How do you know?”
“Logic. I worked with them long enough to know that after my call to Derek, it’s only a matter of time before they zero in our location and find us.”
Dalton saw the fear in her eyes, wished he hadn’t been the one to put it there, but he wasn’t going to hold back information any longer.
“So what does that mean? Should we pack up and go?”
He shook his head. “No. We stay. I’ll convince them that I had a good reason for what I did.”
“Will you explain that to them before or after they kill me?”
“I’m not going to let them kill you.”
“You’ll be using your amazing angel superpowers to prevent that, then.”
He smiled. “No. But they’re reasonable. They’re not going to come in with lasers blazing. Trust me, they’ll listen.”
“Uh-huh. I’d feel a lot better about that if we could do this whole ceremony thing before they got here.” She stood and began to pace in front of the bed, rubbing her temples as she walked. “Well, maybe. Maybe not.” She paused, turned to him. “Because if we do it, and it actually works, then you’ll leave. Shit. This sucks.”
He understood her feelings of ambiguity. He wanted it to work, too. And part of him didn’t because he wanted things to stay just as they were. “I know, babe.” He stood and grasped her arms, rubbed them. “I have to stay, to explain. I can’t be gone when they get here. I think we should wait.”
She tilted her head back, searched his face. “Oh, that’s right. Otherwise they’d only have my word. They’d never believe me.”
“I didn’t say that. If Lou were still alive, I think you’d have a really good shot at making him understand. He had an uncanny ability to sense things. He’d … know.
“But Lou is gone now. Given that, I think
I’d rather stay and explain my reasoning. I’m the one who defied orders. I need to stand and face that. I need to make sure you’re protected.”
After he told the hunters all they needed to know, he and Isabelle would do the ceremony, which would hopefully work. Isabelle wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to handle her demon side. He’d at least be able to leave with some peace of mind about that. She’d be okay, be reunited with her sister. The Realm would take care of her. They’d have to, because he’d be gone, back where he belonged.
It’s what he’d wanted for so long, and it was within reach.
So why was he so damned miserable?
Michael sat with Derek, Gina, Ryder, and Angelique at a truck stop restaurant on the outskirts of Louisiana. He focused his attention on listening to Derek’s report, glad to have something to occupy his mind other than the sullen woman sitting next to him—the one who hadn’t said much to him all through the night.
When they left Florida, she’d tossed her gear in the SUV and tilted her seat back, promptly cutting off any conversation between them by going to sleep. Michael knew she needed the rest, considering what she’d been through, so he hadn’t bothered her.
Unfortunately, that left him alone with his thoughts, none of them good, most of them dealing with the master clusterfuck he’d started by having sex with one of his own team members. It got worse from there.
He’d stolen occasional glances at Mandy throughout the twelve-hour drive, but she hadn’t budged other than during the few stops they’d made to refuel, use the bathroom, and grab coffee.
Then she’d curled up and gone back to sleep. Or at least she’d feigned sleep. As restless as she’d seemed, Michael figured that was the excuse she used to keep from having a conversation with him.
They were going to have to talk—eventually. But for now, they had other things to deal with. Michael had given the rest of the team a full report on the demons they’d found in Florida, the testing, what the demon had told them, and how they’d killed it. Now it was on to another crisis: Dalton and Isabelle.
Derek had found Dalton. After Dalton called him, Derek had set to work with the Realm’s help tracing the call. It hadn’t been easy, but they’d pinpointed the call to Louisiana. After that, they’d relied on Angelique, who had finally been able to pick up her sister’s connection. Isabelle must have finally started opening up so Angelique could get psychic impulses, or whatever it was the twins exchanged. Between the two of them, Derek and Angelique had followed the trail into Louisiana with Gina and Ryder, confirming Dalton’s and Isabelle’s arrival in a small bayou town. So far the fugitives hadn’t left.