He looked away from her, to the side, a muscle in his jaw tensing, before his gaze returned to hers. “Damn it, woman. You don’t belong in the middle of this. What if you would have been caught searching his office?”
This didn’t seem the time to tell him she had been. “All the more reason to find out what the Seer can tell me about Cullen and that ring,” she argued.
His lips thinned and suddenly his fingers threaded into her hair, palms framing her face. “What did you promise in return for this meeting?” Anger laced his words.
“Who says I promised anything?”
“Lying does not suit you,” he said. “What did you promise?”
“Blood,” she whispered. “I promised my blood.”
A low growl escaped Lucan’s lips. “Are you insane?” he demanded. “Do you know what they can do with your blood?”
“I know they can use magic against me,” she said, but that wasn’t what they wanted her blood for. They wanted her blood because she was a virgin, because it possessed unique spell-casting abilities. But Lucan didn’t know she was a virgin, and she wasn’t about to tell him. The fear of setting your lovers on fire tended to do that to a girl.
Lucan looked like he might explode. “You will not give them your blood, Kresley.”
Before she could argue, the sound of a curtain moving directly behind her sent her whirling around toward the activity. Lucan’s arms quickly shackled her waist, pulling her back against him, protective – possessive.
A woman stood before her, with long, black silk robes covering her body, her face and head veiled in the same sheer fabric. The woman stared at Kresley and Lucan, her eyes all they could see for the silk shrouding her face. She inspected Kresley’s face an instant before fixing her gaze on Lucan. “You don’t belong in this world.”
Kresley opened her mouth to protest, but Lucan spoke first. “She goes nowhere I do not.”
The woman nodded. “You should have thought of that before now,” she said simply and disappeared into the room, appearing to assume they would follow.
The air crackled with tension a moment before Lucan took her arm and turned her to face him. “Whatever you think you know about the Dark Circle, you don’t. You have no idea the dangerous ground you are walking on here,” he told her. “This goes down my way or we leave. Whatever you promised is off the table. Understood?”
“What if—"
“My way or not at all,” he replied archly. “Take it or leave it.”
Good Lord, he was both sexy and infuriating. She grimaced, having no doubt he’d drag her out of there if need be. It seemed the gentle doctor she’d met a year ago had a macho complex to go with his sword. He knew damn well that she didn’t have an option but to agree with his terms.
“I’ll take it, but for the record, you don’t own me, Lucan. My life is my own.”
He sucked in a breath, anger etching his features as he let it out. “Not anymore, it’s not.” Before she could respond, he took her hand and pulled her toward the open doorway.
Chapter Six
He trusted no one in the Dark Circle. And certainly wanted no part of the black magic of this world. Lucan stopped at the doorway through which the Seer had disappeared, a moment of second-thoughts climbing through his mind, hesitating to lead Kresley any further into this world of dark magic. Why, and how, she had managed to be here in the first place, he didn’t know, but fully expected to discover.
All he knew was that touching Kresley, being near her, stirred far more inside him than Lucan had ever imagined possible, far more than the protectiveness. She stirred life inside him, taunted him with what might have been and now never could be. She didn’t belong here, in danger. The fear he felt for her settled heavily in his chest, and he clung to something that was easier to embrace – anger. He was, indeed, angry. At her. At her actions. At the way she taken for granted the life he’d tried so hard to give her. And yet, here she was, in the midst of danger, him holding her close, and once again, desperate to save that life.
“Lucan,” Kresley pleaded at his delay, tugging on his hand. “We have to do this, before she changes her mind.”
His gaze cautiously slid from the door to the flustered look on Kresley’s face. It was now or never, and clearly he was in too deep to walk away. They were here now, in the center of the proverbial hellhole, and he wasn’t foolish enough to walk away from any bit of information, even that which had to be considered of limited substance. He’d long ago learned that within every lie, there was something to be learned–a motivation, a source of relevance not to be ignored. As it was, he was desperate to save Kresley, and hearing the wolves might be somehow targeting the Knights only added to the urgency for resolution that burned inside him.
He gave a short nod, his fingers laced through hers as he stepped forward, not about to let go of her as they entered a small, candlelit room, the scent of sage and lavender in the air.
Almost instantly, the door shut behind them, sealing them inside with the unwelcome, and unexpected, barrier of a wooden panel. Since no one else had been in that hallway, magic was at play, and everything inside Lucan screamed with further warning. He quickly scanned the room; the Seer was nowhere to be found. His gaze was drawn to the long, burgundy curtain shielding the wall directly in front of them, perhaps shielding another exit, and who knew what else.
The Seer stepped from behind the curtain and sat down at a small, round table draped in silk and satin. She swept her hand through the air to indicate the two chairs across from her, her eyes lustful in a way that reached beyond sex. Lustful in a way that sought power, the power near her, power she foresaw them delivering. “Join me.” The invitation claimed the room, held implications of control—her control – control he wasn’t willing to relinquish.
Kresley started forward, ready to comply. Lucan held her fast. Kresley cast him an irritated look and then focused on the Seer. “We wish information on the Wolf Pack's leader, Cullen. On his ring.”
Protectively, Lucan eased Kresley closer to his side. “Whatever she offered you is no longer a part of the deal. You want to deal, you deal with me.”
The woman’s eyes locked with his, their depths swirling with misty grey, some form of otherworldly magic. “What deal will you offer me, Knight of White?”
Lucan stiffened, inhaling harshly with the acknowledgement of his past –with proof that she, indeed, held information he did not wish her to know. And that information might put him at a disadvantage. A spiral of electricity punched through the air, as her words had through his gut, their eyes locking, holding. “What is it you want, Seer?”
“Would you kill for me, Knight?”
Tension coiled instantly in his gut, like a rubber band ready to pop. His gaze touched that of the Seer, saw the light of satisfaction in her eyes at his discomfort. Kresley stepped closer to his side, her hand curling around his bicep, a silent request for him to acknowledge her by his side. He did not. He couldn’t look her in the eyes right now. The Guardians had ordered him to kill Cullen. For some reason, that wasn’t a piece of information he wished Kresley to know. Knowing that she might perceive he was withholding something, he could not bring himself to look at her.
“I do not like games,” he stated flatly, not pleased about her form of manipulation.
“It is a simple question,” the Seer replied coyly. “Perhaps I should make it even simpler. Would you kill a Demon? That is what you do for the Guardians, is it not?”
The mention of the Guardians sent Kresley into question mode. “What do you know of the Guardians?” she asked urgently. “Can he be free of them? Please. Help us.” Help us. Kresley’s words splintered through the air, shredding his heart, because there was no "us" to be found in his world, no matter how sweet the sound of that word. Not with Kresley, not with anyone. He was alone. He was always alone. “Please,” Kresley pleaded again.
But the Seer did not respond to Kresley; the depths of those magical eyes fixed on him, waiting for hi
s reply. Lucan’s heart squeezed with Kresley’s concern for him. She’d come here, to the Dark Circle, for him. He’d tried to keep her away from the darkness and had led her directly into it.
“What Demon do you want killed?” Lucan asked tightly, willing in that moment to do anything for her freedom, for one piece of information that might deliver her from hell.
“Does it matter?” the Seer challenged. “Are not all Demons evil?”
Her proclamation shook him inside and out, the implications washing over him in an instant. Yes, his mind screamed. All Demons were evil. It was the only acceptable answer. It was the one he wanted, the one he needed. The only one his mind accepted, the only one that made his past actions as an assassin for the Guardians acceptable.
“Silence does not change the answer,” the Seer reprimanded. “Nor does it change what you see when you look into a mirror. You of all people should know there is no light without darkness. There is no Knight of White without the darkness of a beast within him. No Knight of White who survives without the mate to bind that beast with her light. This is the same for all races, all beings. Where there is darkness, there is light. Where there is strength, there is weakness.”
Lucan had seen the pure evil of the soulless Darkland Beasts, an evil he had been battling for three centuries. He scoffed. “That’s simply not true.”
She responded to his thoughts, rather than his words, seeming to read his mind. “The Darkland Beasts are humans turned into Demons. They were not always of the darkness. The worst enemy is not created, but born of their own choices. That is the truly deadly opponent. The one who has an agenda beyond simple existence.”
Lucan gave her a mindful look. “Why are you telling me this?” Lucan asked suspiciously. “What do you want?”
“To stop the war,” she whispered, her chest rising and falling quickly, a haunting quality to her voice.
“What war?” Lucan demanded, something in the way she had spoken the words spiking an immediate sense of urgency in him.
“It is . . .” Her eyes dropped to the table, hands settling on the silk, fingers spreading, tips touching. The room seemed electric now, charged with some supernatural force. Kresley moved closer to Lucan, her arm wrapping around his, shivering. He could feel her looking at him, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the Seer. Instead, he reached up and covered her hand on his arm with his own. Abruptly, the Seers lashes lifted, her eyes once again swirling with otherworldly magic. “He is coming,” she hissed through her teeth. “We haven’t much time.”
“Who?” Kresley asked. “Who is coming?”
The Seer stared forward in a trance-like state. "The dark one,” she whispered. “He brings war from the shadows of our city. It will soon spread beyond if allowed. Two will battle for one source of power–one of darkness, one of light. The dark one . . . He will not stop until–"
Suddenly, she shuddered, her eyes rolling back in her head again. She murmured something incomprehensible.
A moment later, she pushed to her feet, spine stiff, suddenly coherent again, clear-eyed. Her voice strong. "He is here. You must go before it is too late.” She started to turn away.
“Wait, please!” Kresley shouted, trying to move forward again as Lucan held her back. “The ring the Werewolf leader wears—"
The Seer paused, fixed Kresley in an unearthly stare. “Removing that ring will destroy you.”
A blast came from a distance, screams following. The door behind them splintered. “She’s gone!” Kresley shouted from behind him. “This way, Lucan! This way!"
Lucan turned to find Kresley holding open the drape. Another forceful blow hammered the door behind him; more wood splintered. Whoever wanted in was damn close to making it happen.
Adrenaline charged through Lucan as he shoved Kresley behind him, cursing his lack of weapons.
Anticipating the enemy's next action, Lucan charged toward Kresley, reaching her side a moment before the door exploded behind him.
He grabbed Kresley by the shoulders. “Go! I’ll meet you at your apartment.”
“No!” she said. “I…I can’t leave you!”
“You can and you will!” he shouted, a moment before someone grabbed him from behind. Lucan screamed at Kresley. “Go!” Then he whirled around and grabbed his attacker, praying silently that Kresley listened. And he was almost certain she would not.
***
The sound of Lucan doing battle with numerous attackers ripped through the air in thunderous crashes, grunts, and curses. Kresley’s chest heaved as she leaned against the wall in the narrow hallway in a secret passage of some sort. Her heart raced, her mind slowed, reached for options to save Lucan, but to no avail. She simply didn’t know what to do. She had no swords, no chance of producing them.
He was outnumbered, and her fire seemed the only answer. But did she dare risk setting the building on fire? What if it spread to other structures? Think Kresley! Think! She inhaled. Tried to get some air. Sucked in a breath. Let it out. Reached for rational thought. She’d practiced using her fire with precision back at the ranch, worked to make it a weapon without catastrophic results.
She could do this. Right. She kicked off her shoes to allow more agility, and silently willed herself to move. Move! She shoved off the wall, no time to second-guess her actions, and charged back toward the room, back to Lucan.
What she found forced a barely contained gasp. The table was now a pile of wood, pieces tossed to the side. Lucan was on his knees, ropes around his wrists, the ropes held by a man on each side, with Lucan's arms pulled open as far as they would extend. There were at least four other large men crammed in the tiny room, one of which stood with his back to Kresley, a sword in his hand, and she’d been around the Demon world long enough to know why. Beheading was an easy, certain way to kill any creature, be it Demon or other being.
Suddenly, Lucan maneuvered somehow, jerked the two ropes, yanking the two men attached to them toward him. In a flash, the rope was around one of their necks. The others closed in on him, the swordsman yelling for them to hold Lucan down.
Kresley darted forward and raised her hand toward the swordsman’s back. Using one finger only, she let her fire loose, reaching for exactness in her targeting, for control. One short shot of fire rocketed through the air and did exactly what she'd hoped – it singed the swordsman's back without sending the room into flames. He screamed, his sword falling to the ground in a loud thud. He dropped to his knees and then rolled, snuffing the flames at his back with the impact of the floor. The other men stood in stunned silence. Then, without warning, they departed, streaming one after another, out through the cracked door. Kresley frowned at the fleeing wolves. That had been too easy. Something had spooked them, and Kresley had a feeling they didn’t want to stay around and find out what.
Lucan struggled to rip the ropes from his wrists even as he sidestepped the injured swordsman who was still crumpled on the ground.
“Go!” he shouted, his long legs eating up the short space between them. Kresley raced for the door, this time confident that Lucan was on her heels. She darted through the door, and shot down the hallway, scooping up her shoes in a smooth move that barely slowed her pace.
Kresley shoved open the back door, bursting into the empty alley in the sweet relief of escape. Lucan was seconds behind her, and side by side, in silent agreement, they kept running. Rocks and pavement bit at her feet, but she pushed through it, aware they had no weapons, that at any moment they could be attacked.
When finally they reached a populated area, and had left the alley behind for the bustle of street vendors and people, Kresley and Lucan slowed to a casual walk. But Kresley was breathless, her chest ready to explode from the pumping of her overactive heart. Her feet were sore from the rocks, the pavement beneath them disgustingly dirty. And now, Lucan was headed for the subway entrance.
“Wait,” Kresley said urgently, trying to balance as she struggled to put on one shoe. Someone bumped into her. She stumbled and
fell into Lucan’s towering form, his muscular frame absorbing her impact with ease, a big hand on her waist. She looked up at him, their eyes locking, holding. Tension spiked between them, tension bred with equal parts desire and anger. Lots of anger. Lucan was downright pissed and not at their attackers. At her.
“We need to keep moving,” he said sharply.
She ground her teeth, irritated. No, angry herself now.
She cut her gaze, and slid on her shoes. He held her steady as she did so–part of her wanted to scream for him to let her go, part to hold on to her. But his anger hurt; it felt unfair, a double-edged sword. She'd come to help him, not become the brunt of anger. She straightened, her task completed, her will to remove herself from his touch powerful now.
“I’m ready,” she said, starting forward, her stride longer than before. It was her turn to be angry, and when she had the chance, she was going to have a few words to say.
But now Lucan was flagging a passing cab, detouring from the subway, pulling Kresley along with him. One moment they were on the street, the next, alone in the back of a dark cab. Kresley slid to the far side, and stared forward.
Silence, thick with electricity, with lust and passion, with anger and emotion, surrounded them. She didn’t know what to do with all these things she was feeling. Never before had a man warmed her with a mere touch, a look. But never before had a man fired her temper, set her on edge. Any minute they would be at her apartment, with no driver to overhear their words, no Demons present. They would be alone, and there was far more than unspoken words between them. There was a firestorm ready to explode. A firestorm she had to survive, with her will to achieve what she had come to achieve.
No matter what Lucan demanded, no matter how loudly he yelled. . .She cut off the rest of the thought, balling her fists in her lap. She slowly, discreetly, inhaled. Her mind raced onward. No matter how much Lucan made her want and need, and he did make her want and need – and had since the moment she’d met him a year before – she would not lose her focus. She was going to save him from the Guardians. She was going to send him back to his rightful place with the Knights. A place she could never return. That was how it was. That was how it was going to be.