Courting Darkness (7 page)

His hope that she could be reasoned with was quickly dwindling. Learning the truth had only seemed to further exacerbate the female’s recklessness. She wanted her memory back, and that just wasn’t happening. If, by some act of God, she did remember Liam, there would be zero chance of her ever accepting Tate. Unfortunately, the heart was stronger than free will, and Olivia was refusing to let Liam go—an unforeseen complication in the High Court’s plan to reassign her guardianship, to be sure.

Tate had yet to report the problem, having had hope he could rectify the issue with a little gentle persuasion. But now?—not so much. Olivia was right, he hadn’t been in love before and the concept that she just couldn’t get over it and accept Tate as her guardian didn’t compute. It was impractical to cling to someone you couldn’t remember, and plain foolish to refuse to give up someone you could never have.

Becoming the female’s roomie held zero appeal to him, but equally distasteful was the thought of reporting his failure to the High Court. He’d give this a try first and see if a little face time would bring the female around to accepting the truth—Liam simply wasn’t coming back. And the sooner Olivia accepted that, the better off they’d all be.

With tensions running high among the court elders, the decision to revoke Liam’s guardianship and impose confinement had been met with much opposition, and a less than unanimous vote. In addition, rumors of a surviving Nephilim and a possible regime change among the lords of the underworld were an added complication. In order to stay apprised of new developments and threats to the High Court, he was often pulled away from his assignment here, not exactly a big deal—unless he wasn’t bonded to his ward.

According to the Watchers, Gahn had left Sheol. His whereabouts was still unknown. An army of Ronnin warriors had been dispatched to locate him. So far, nothing had been reported, and Tate was surly as hell over being left out in the wings on this. This was a mission he should have been heading, and he was damn sure if he had, Gahn’s whereabouts would be more than just speculation.

He was due back in court shortly to report on Olivia. Leaving her unguarded sat ill with him, but at this point, he didn’t have a lot of options. The High Court wanted regular updates of any suspicious demonic activity relating to the female. So far, everything had been quiet…a ploy to lull him into complacency? Or perhaps this was just the calm before the storm. Only time would tell.

Olivia couldn’t remember when she’d ever been so exhausted. Class had been grueling, but her fourth one had nearly done her in. Her new client, Pat, wasn’t what she’d expected to find when her office door swung open to reveal a rather fit, twenty-something guy with bright blue eyes, dark red hair, and goatee a few shades lighter. He’d entered without knocking—strike one…fixed his arrogant gaze on her rack—strike two…and when he shook her hand to introduce himself, his thumb brushed over her knuckles—strike three.

She instantly disliked the guy. In all her years of teaching the art of yoga, there were two kinds of guys that ever joined her class: the overweight, middle-aged men that mistakenly thought this class would be easier than hitting the weights, and the trollers. Pat was definitely the latter. How she wished she could bar admission to these assholes who thought yoga was nothing but an easy way to get a piece of ass.

Since non-admittance wasn’t an option, Olivia had worked the piss out of that class and nearly killed herself in the process. To her chagrin, Pat hadn’t dropped over dead, and left the class looking more energized than when he’d started. To her surprise, he hadn’t approached a single woman in there, although more than one had gone up to him. He’d kept the encounters short and sweet, clearly not interested. But unfortunately, someone
had
caught his attention—her. The guy hadn’t taken his eyes off Olivia throughout class. Trollers usually knew better than to try to fuck the instructor. Apparently this guy hadn’t gotten the memo.

With class over, she didn’t stay to chit-chat with the other women as she usually did. Instead, she grabbed her duffle bag from her office and beat feet to her car. Hopping in, she tossed her bag into the passenger seat, and turned the key in the ignition.
Click…click…click…

Shit…seriously?
Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose, cursing her piss poor luck.

“Need a jump?”

She jumped in her seat, startled by the man’s voice.

“Sorry…” Pat chuckled, walking over to her. “I didn’t mean to spook ya.”

Too late…

He tapped her hood with his knuckles.
“Pop the hood and I’ll take a look.”

She wanted to decline. The idea of accepting his help rankled her nerves, but there was no smooth way to refuse, and it wasn’t like she had a lot of options here. Lord…she just wanted to go home. Sighing in defeat, Olivia leaned forward and pulled the hood release. He pushed it up, blocking her view as he leaned over her engine.

“Did you leave your lights on?”

“No, they’re automatic.”

More digging… “Huh…”

“Huh what?” She climbed out of the car and joined him under the hood.

He glanced at her and shrugged. “Any reason someone would want you stranded here?”

A prickle of apprehension needled up her spine. “No, why?”

“Well…” Pat knelt on the ground and looked under her car. “I think your battery is dead, and you’re missing a couple spark plugs. Those things don’t just fall out and disappear.”

Her pulse quickened as Tate’s warning replayed through her mind.

Pat stood and brushed the dirt off the knees of his jeans. “I tell you what, I’ll give you a lift to the auto parts store and we’ll grab the plugs. It won’t take more than a few minutes to put them in, we’ll jump your car, and then you’ll be on your way.”

Aw hell…where was Tate when she needed him? She hesitated to accept his offer.

Pat arched his ginger brow expectantly, clearly waiting for her to say something. “What?” he teased. “You’re looking at me like you’re trying to decide if you’ve seen my picture on America’s Most Wanted or something.” He held up his hands and took a step back. “I promise you haven’t.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks in embarrassment. Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge him earlier. Maybe Tate was turning her into a paranoid nutcase, making her believe everyone was out to get her. “I’m sorry. It’s just…I haven’t had the best of luck with guys lately.”

He flashed her a disarming smile. “Hey, I totally understand. Who knows, your luck may just change.”

“Olivia…?”

She peeked around the hood.
Well, well…speak of the angel.
As Tate approached, his dark violet gaze shot from her to Pat, then back to her. “You having car trouble, dove?” He came around to the front of the Camaro, placing himself between Olivia and her new student.

“It won’t start…” she replied, as Tate leaned over the engine. She glanced over his back at Pat, who looked none too pleased by the interruption.

After a few more seconds, Tate shut the hood firmly. “Give it a try now.”

“But—” Olivia was about to tell him there was no chance this car was going to start, when Tate interrupted her.

“Just start the car, dove.”

Had a term of endearment ever sounded less endearing? His tone left no measure for argument. Clearly, he expected her to comply without questioning him or the laws of physics.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Olivia heard Pat ask as she climbed into the car.

“Something like that,” he replied, which was so not true. From reading her journal, she’d learned that angels couldn’t lie, so how was he getting through that little loophole? Tate may be a number of things, but he was most definitely not “something like that.” Olivia turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. Well, now she could add miracle worker to the list.

Tate said something to Pat that she couldn’t quite catch over the hum of her engine. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been well received. The guy straightened to his full height, which still failed to meet Tate’s impressive six-six. His ice blue eyes narrowed on her guardian, whose own flashed a shade brighter. She knew Tate was getting angry, thanks to her journal which had been a crash course in angelology.

These heavenly beings may resemble men, but they were nothing like humans. Their physical characteristics alone exceeded perfection. As swift as a tide, their eyes changed color with their emotions. The stasis color, dark violet, turned to sapphire when aroused, green with jealousy, and amber with grief. And then there was the color she was witnessing now on Tate, and the amethyst glow made him appear otherworldly and wholly dangerous.

Angels could easily teleport dimensions and trace to various locations at will, which was no doubt, how Tate had instantly appeared a few minutes ago. Humans, however, could not transcend. If an angel or demon attempted to pull them across, their souls would separate from their body, instantly killing them.

Angels possessed light energy, which, when transferred to humans in small amounts, could actually heal them. But in higher quantities, or if their control slipped, say during a moment of passion, it could burn a human and possibly even result in death. Had Tate just juiced her car? Probably. The battery was reading full and this baby was purring a few spark plugs short.

More words were exchanged between Pat and Tate before they split in opposite directions. Her guardian came around and slid into the passenger seat. The sheer size of him consumed his side of the car and part of hers. His dark violet eyes still bore hued remnants of amethyst.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing that didn’t need saying,” Tate grouched. “Were you really going to leave with that tail chaser? Pray tell that was not a friend of yours.”

Olivia backed up, headlights panning the near empty lot as she pulled out and headed for home. “No. I don’t know him. He just joined my yoga class today.”

“Well, keep an eye out for that one. I don’t trust him. At best, he wants in your pants; at worst, he’ll kill you.”

“You know, you could try to sugarcoat it a little.”

“I don’t believe in mincing words, Olivia. Your car is damaged. The battery was drained and you’ve got spark plugs missing. Your security system has been disabled. Someone did that. I’m disinclined to think the assault was demonic in nature due to the archaic simplicity of it, but deviant nonetheless. I am here to keep you safe from the Dark Court, but clearly there’s a human who has ill will toward you. Any idea who that might be?”

Tate’s gaze locked on her, the intensity sending a chill up her spine. Perhaps she shouldn’t say anything. It wouldn’t be fair to wrongly accuse the guy and then throw him under the bus called Tate. “I can’t think of anyone who would do that. Except—”

“Except who, Olivia?”

Aw hell…maybe she should tell him, just in case she ever turned up missing. “Um…things haven’t been good between Mitch and me since my accident. He hasn’t taken the separation well. At times, he’s been aggressive in his pursuit to make things work between us. I feel nothing for him, and he’s had a hard time accepting that. I’ve tried to reason with him… Maybe he’s lashing out. He knows Liam gave me this car and he blames him for the breakup.”

Tate nodded. “I’ll handle Mitch. In the meantime, keep alert. Let me know if you see anyone or anything suspicious.”

Olivia was reluctant to admit it, but she was actually kinda glad Tate was staying with her. Perhaps having her guardian as a roomie wasn’t such a bad deal, all things considered.

Chapter Six

After dropping Olivia off, Tate took the Camaro up to NAPA and got her a new battery and spark plugs. Clearly, trouble seemed to find that female, and he began to wonder just how long he could maintain a court presence and continue keeping her safe. With any luck, this latest incident would spook her into accepting him. Once he could feel her emotions, he’d be able to sense her, making it so much easier to keep her safe.

He hadn’t seen Liam since the day of his sentencing. The thought had occurred to consult him on the best approach to handle the willful female. But rumor had it Liam wasn’t taking his incarceration well and all but refused visitors, save his best friend, Balen. The angel hadn’t taken the loss of Olivia well, his outburst throwing an unsuspecting High Court into utter chaos. Had they not incarcerated him, he would have most assuredly bailed. Liam had lost his perspective—his objectivity was for shit. And since meeting Olivia, after seeing and spending time with her, Tate had no doubt the rumors, although yet unfounded, were absolutely true—that female and his friend had been intimate. Since being summoned to court, the angel possessed a wildness, a lack of restraint fed by carnality that came only from sampling forbidden fruit.

Had the courts known the beauty Olivia would grow to become, Tate wondered if they’d been so eager to place her in a warrior’s hands—a primal male that lacked immunity to a mortal’s life source. Olivia was gorgeous. Truly stunning, actually—a temptation to any male, human or otherwise. Were she not Liam’s, admittedly, Tate would have found it difficult to bridle his own attraction to the female. An unwitting femme fatale that apparently had more than a few admirers Tate was going to have to do some damage control with. Next stop: Mitch Mathis.