Courting Darkness (9 page)

In those moments of weakness, when his conscience forced him to ponder what he was doing, Pat appeased his guilt by reasoning that the woman was going to die, anyway. He was merely the net this maniac was using to capture his prey. So, why then, if her life was already lost, should he not take the opportunity to save his own?

“Part of our
arrangement
? Neither was your failure to grab that female. Look, it’s real simple, Pat. You get the girl, bring her to me, and then all your debts will be free and clear.”

Yeah, he’d heard all that before. But it wasn’t so simple. He’d been watching the woman for weeks, plotting how he was going to get to her—short of flat out abducting her, which he didn’t think he had the stomach to do. If he could lure her away, trick her into coming along with him…somehow his part in all this seemed easier to take—less malice a forethought.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just abduct her yourself,” Pat grumbled, wishing he could undo the lifetime of mistakes that had brought him to this point of unfathomable lows. “You’re perfectly capable—”

“I never said I wasn’t. Nor am I about to sit here and explain myself to you.”

He spat “you” with such contempt, the fine hairs on Pat’s arms prickled to attention.

“My reasons are my own. But if you fail me in this, I promise you, your bad debts will be the least of your worries. Bottom line, you’re in it to win it, my friend. Act as if your life depends on it.”

Pat had no doubt that it did.

Chapter Seven

Over the next few days, Olivia and Tate settled into a certain unspoken truce. She did as he’d asked and hadn’t touched her journal since that first night. Not that she’d need to. Every word had been seared into her blank slate of a memory. But every day that passed, her heart ached more and more for Liam. She was slowly coming to the realization that memories or not, it probably always would.

Were she given the choice, she’d take her memories back in a heartbeat. And she still hadn’t given up on searching for them—in discovering the truth. But she stopped pressing Tate for answers, knowing he would not be her avenue of recollection. Since that night in the kitchen, he’d refused to speak of Liam. Perhaps he hoped she’d just let it go—out of sight, out of mind, and all that crap.

“I still can’t feel you,” he’d say daily, as if she needed the reminder to work harder at accepting him—easier said than done. But she honestly didn’t know how to do what he was asking of her. She didn’t know how to let Liam go, maybe it was because she couldn’t remember him and her mind and heart refused to cooperate with each other. Whatever the reason, she was no more able to comply with his request than fly to the moon. It simply was not possible.

Perhaps with time, and after she learned the truth, she might find a way to let go of the angel who still held her heart—which was just one more reason to get about the business of getting her memory back. Ashley had been helpful in laying the foundation. And perhaps it was just paranoia, but she still suspected her friend was holding something back, which was why Olivia had agreed to a girls’ night out with her. Maybe tonight she could get another piece of the puzzle comprising the enigma that was her life.

Tate was less than thrilled at discovering she was going out with her friend tonight. He had court business—something that seemed to consume a rather large portion of his time—which was fine with her, because it’d be rather difficult to search for answers with him as her sidekick. She wasn’t sure how he’d react to discovering her quest for the truth, but she didn’t want to risk upsetting the amicability that had settled between them.

Ultimately, she’d played her “free will” card, insisting he give her some space when he’d offered to forgo court. She told him she wanted to be alone tonight. Grumbling something under his breath about “stubborn females,” he’d retreated to the spare bedroom—his current place of occupancy.

Her parents were returning from vacation in the next week and a half, and Olivia wondered how she’d explain her new roommate to them if they didn’t get this bonding thing figured out before then. But again, Kim and Roger had some explaining of their own to do—like how could they try to hide Olivia’s past from her? It had been their push for her to move home during this “recovery time,” and she was starting to think it would be a good idea if she got another place of her own—sooner than later.

“What are you looking so grumpy about?” Tate asked, walking into the living room, carrying a steaming cup of coffee. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he loved that stuff. Black, cream, flavored, it didn’t matter. Her guardian was a variable Mr. Coffee.

“Good thing you don’t sleep or you’d have insomnia with as much of that stuff as you drink.”

He chuckled, a deep rich rumble of pure male satisfaction. “Now I know why they call it the nectar of the gods.”

Despite her surly mood, a smile tugged at her top lip. “You’re kinda funny, you know that?”

Tate shrugged. “It’s purely by accident, I assure you.”

She laughed. Olivia was quickly finding she genuinely liked the angel. His easy-going nature was not dwarfed by the powerful presence he exuded, a presence she found rather comforting to be around. Typically slow to anger, he could become fearlessly aggressive when provoked, yet aside from their first encounter in the elevator, she never feared him. Often, being around the angel sparked feelings of déjà vu, making Olivia wonder if her heart didn’t somehow recognize similarities between Liam and her new guardian.

“Was Pat in your class today?” he asked, sitting across from her on the loveseat, slouched in an open-legged, very masculine sprawl, his muscular frame nearly taking up the entire couch. Although he asked casually, Tate’s violet gaze locked on her over the cup he held to his lips, waiting for an answer.

He truly was a handsome specimen of male perfection. But her attraction to him went no farther that an unbiased appreciation for beauty. Tate not only looked at her, but treated her like one might a little sister. There was no tension between them, no awkwardness… He truly was an angel.

“He was there. But he hasn’t said or done anything out of line. In fact, he hasn’t even spoken to me since the night my car was broken into. But…”

“But what?” Something dangerous flashed in Tate’s eyes as he sat forward, placing the cup on the end table and pinning her with his full attention.

“I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it. He just gives me a bad vibe, that’s all.”

At her vague answer, a small measure of tension left his wide shoulders as he leaned back. “Well, he’s interested in you, but then I suspect many males you encounter are. Just let me know if he does anything to cause you more concern.”

Olivia laughed. “Why? Are you going to punch him in the face, too? Careful for his teeth,” she teased with a touch of sarcasm. In all honesty, she should probably thank Tate. Since his little visit, the daily harassing calls from Mitch had stopped.

“Ha,” Tate mocked, “you’re kinda funny, you know that?”

She arched her brow, shooting him an innocent grin. “I wouldn’t know. I can’t remember.”

The minute they entered the Waterworks, Ashley tried to drag Olivia to the dance floor. She resisted her friend’s persistent tugging for a tempting space up at the bar. “Are you sure I like dancing, Ash, because I’m just not feeling it,” she yelled over the thrumming bass, eyeing her friend suspiciously.

“Trust me,” Ashley said, pulling her toward the gyrating crowd, “you love it.”

Olivia wasn’t so sure. “Well, maybe I did, but I don’t anymore.” If she had to guess, she’d venture to say she never had, and her BFF was taking advantage of her. “You go dance, then meet me at the bar. I’ll save you a seat.” Giving her wrist a hard tug, she pulled loose of Ashley’s grasp and slipped away before her friend could stop her.

“You’re no fun,” Ashley whined, her complaint getting lost in the crowd. “Fine…just two songs, then I’ll meet you at the bar.”

The rush of people was making her anxious—the deafening volume and drumming bass, overwhelming her senses. Olivia’s pulse quickened, thumping erratically inside her chest. This was her first time out clubbing since her accident. Perhaps it was too soon. Needing a drink to calm her nerves, she weaved her way through the mass of people. All the while, she kept her sights on the bar, scolding herself for letting Ashley talk her into this.

Sliding onto the empty seat, she ordered four tequila shots with lime. The bartender lined them up, and Olivia had the first one down before he finished filling the others. The amber liquid burned its way into her stomach, momentarily taking her breath away. She sucked the juice from the lime and set the rind back on the plate. Without pausing to catch her air, she slammed another shot and followed it with the lime. The heat from the first was already starting to spread into her arms and legs, making them feel heavy—a little loose.

“I didn’t know you were into shots.”

Olivia tensed at the snarky drunken slur, but kept facing forward, refusing to give the asshole the satisfaction of a response. Perhaps if she ignored him, he’d just go away. Spitting out her lime, she tipped back her third shot and stuck the green wedge in her mouth.

“Then again, I didn’t know you were into angels either, so I guess you’re just full of surprises these days.”

No such luck on the just going away. It looked like her decision not to bring Tate was quickly shaping up to be a poor lack of judgment on her part. Finishing her final shot, Olivia spun around and leveled Mitch with a seething glare. “Yeah, well, I didn’t know you were a drunken asshole either, so I guess that makes us even in the surprise department, doesn’t it?”

She slid off the stool, shouldering past him, when his hand bit into her bicep, jerking her to an abrupt halt.

“Oh, we’re far from even, sweetheart.”

“Let go of me!” she snapped, jerking her arm back, but his hold held tight, fingers digging into her bicep in a punishing grip. “Dammit, Mitch, you’re hurting me.”

“What are ya gonna do? Send your new boyfriend over to kick my ass again? I didn’t mess with your car, Olivia. Perhaps you finally fucked over the wrong guy and he’s lookin’ for a little payback.”

“Tate isn’t my boyfriend, and you hit him first!” Tears stung her eyes as she jerked her arm again, trying to get loose from his grip. “Let go of me!”

“I’m not letting you go until we’re finished—”

“Oh, you’re finished.”

The low warning growl behind her prickled Olivia’s fight or flight instincts into overdrive. A rush of adrenaline flooded her veins.

“Let her go, Mitch.”

The demand left no margin for disobedience. She cranked her head around to see the demon towering over her. He stood so close, the heat of his body blasted against her back. Those haunting sea-green eyes bore into Mitch with such lethal intensity, her heart hammered inside her chest. This wasn’t happening… Once again, Olivia kicked herself for not letting Tate come with her.

Struck speechless, she looked back at Mitch to see a malicious smirk tugging his top lip as he sneered, “Come on, Olivia. Seriously? It wasn’t enough to fuck an angel, now you’ve moved on to a Nephilim? Let me know when you get around to my species—”

“I’m pretty sure “asshole” isn’t on her to-do list,” Haden growled.

He moved so fast, everything was a blur. Then again, maybe it was the tequila shots hitting her. Haden grabbed her other arm, holding her steady, while he slammed his fist into Mitch’s face. The a-hole let go of her pretty fast, flailing for balance as he crashed into the table behind him.

Olivia gasped, appalled by Mitch’s outburst, and stunned speechless over Haden’s violent reaction to it. Tears welled in her eyes as he marched her toward a private corner of the bar. She was too startled to do anything but stumble along behind him like a scolded child.

Coming to a halt, he spun her around to face his angry scowl. “You shouldn’t be here, Olivia. And FYI, I’m getting pretty sick of saving your ass! I’m not your goddamn guardian!”

Maybe the alcohol was making her weepy, or perhaps it was being scared shitless by this overbearing brute. At any rate, tears spilled down her cheeks and she was helpless to stop them. The alcohol fueled her volatile emotions, making her words reckless. “Then why are you doing it?” she challenged. “I never asked you to save me!”

As her pathetic tears rolled off her cheeks, they landed on his wrist. This time, he made no move to avoid her rain of grief. Instead, he stood there scowling at her. After a moment, his hard-ass scowl softened a touch. His head tipped to her neck as if to whisper a secret. He inhaled deeply as she stood there, frozen. Exhaling a muttered oath, Haden’s breath brushed across her neck like a gentle caress that did not mirror his tone.

“Have you been drinking?” he demanded.

“No.” It was a flat-out lie, but she didn’t owe him any answers. It wasn’t any of his business what she did. He watched her for a minute, his brows drawn tight in disapproval. There was the briefest moment of hesitation before he jerked her close, pressing his lips against hers.