Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series) (11 page)

Shit…shit…shit…
Olivia’s heart raced with dread. She did not want to do this—not here, not now—not in front of Liam. How in the hell did he find out? Careful to keep all emotion from her voice, she replied as calmly as possible, “Then you know it’s not that simple. I can’t just come back, Mitch. It’s not safe for you or my parents to be around me right now. How did you find out?”

“Ashley. And I can take care of myself. I can take care of you, too. Just come home, Olivia.”

It didn’t sound like a request as much as an order. His tone piqued her already frayed nerves. Her voice took on an edge of cool civility. “I already told you, I can’t do that. And I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Mitch. I should have told you everything before. Please believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you.”

 “Uh-huh. It would have been nice to know I had some competition.”

“Mitch… Please don’t do this.” He had every right to be hurt and angry, but she just couldn’t do this right now. The guilt of her betrayal smothered her like a suffocating fog. Anxiously, she glanced over at Liam and saw the muscles of his jaw clenched. She knew he could hear everything Mitch was saying, not only because of his acutely heightened senses, but because Mitch was yelling at her.

“I’m serious, Liv. I want you to come home so we can work this out. If you don’t come back, you’re making your choice,” he threatened.

“What choice is that?” Olivia snapped. “If you think I actually have a say in this, then you obviously don’t know as much as you think you do! Do you
know
who Liam is? Did Ashley tell you
what
he is?” she demanded. It felt awkward talking about him when he was sitting right beside her.

“Oh, I know all about him, Olivia, no thanks to you! And don’t you dare act like you don’t have a choice in this, because I also know about your little ‘free will’ clause. You’re to be my wife and your safety is
my
concern, not his! Tell him to bring you back!”

“I don’t have to tell him, Mitch. He can hear you!”

“Oh really…? Then he can hear this, too… She’s not yours, you son of a bitch! Bring my wife back!”

Liam snatched the phone out of Olivia’s hand so fast, she didn’t see him move.

“She’s not your wife, you ignorant prick! And your selfish stupidity is going to get you both killed,” Liam growled, slamming the phone shut. At his mental command, the automatic window lowered, and he threw the phone out of the car.

Olivia stared at him in disbelief and then glanced into the rearview mirror, watching as his cell phone bounced down the freeway, shattering into pieces. Her jaw dropped. She was absolutely speechless. Okaay… That was a bit…unnecessary.

Liam glanced over at her, still wearing his amethyst glaring, badass scowl. “What?” he snapped.

Yikes! Mitch had really pushed his buttons.

Chapter Nine

“He hung up on me! That son of a bitch hung up on me!” Mitch said in disbelief, handing the phone back to Kim.

“She’s with Liam?” Roger asked, sounding utterly dumbfounded. He turned to Kim. “Are you telling me Olivia bailed on her wedding to take off with Liam? Impossible. There’s got to be more to it. She wouldn’t just leave like that. He’s been gone for three years!”

“I don’t know what she’s thinking, Roger. I just wish she would come home so we could talk about this.”

Mitch turned abruptly and stormed out the front door, snarling something foul under his breath. The door slammed behind him with a wall-rattling
bang.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Ashley offered. By the time she got outside, he was already gone. But it wasn’t difficult to find him. The dull
thuds
and rapid-fire
puff-puff…puff-puff-puff
of Mitch’s punching bag echoed from the garage. Walking toward the sound, she stood in the doorway of the garage for few minutes, silently watching him wail on the blood red
Tap Out
bag. Occasionally, he’d let a flurry of leg kicks fly. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who Mitch was picturing on the other end of his foot.
Not good… He may be a tough guy in this world, but he wouldn’t stand a chance against Liam.

“Mitch…”

He continued to pound the bag, no doubt ignoring her.

“Mitch!” Ashley said louder.

“What?” he snapped, spinning around to glare at her. His sweat-soaked t-shirt clung to his biceps and heaving chest. Mitch yanked it over his head and wiped his face dry before tossing it into a crumpled heap next to the door.

Ashley was momentarily speechless and more than a little uncomfortable, standing in here with him. She couldn’t help that her eyes dropped to his lounge pants, clinging dangerously low on his muscle-trimmed hips. It was easy to see why so many girls found him attractive and why his reputation as a player preceded him. If he wasn’t about to marry her best friend, she would have probably given into the lure of his charms herself. But she’d been there, done that, and had the scars to prove it. Never again would she allow herself to fall into such temptation. Getting involved with one of Olivia’s exes had nearly killer her once. Casting her eyes to the ground, she asked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just great,” he snapped sarcastically. “Can’t you tell?”

Her eyes flicked to his burning gaze. “You know, you probably shouldn’t have yelled at him,” Ashley replied with an equal amount of snark. “I said he was an angel, not a saint. Provoking him isn’t going to help anything.”

“Do you have any idea where he’s taking her?”  Mitch asked, dragging his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.

“No. Somewhere safe, but even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you. It’s too dangerous for you to go after her.”

“If I don’t go after her, I’m going to lose her, Ashley!”

“If you lose her, she was never yours in the first place,” she countered. “Be reasonable, Mitch. You can’t protect her from this. It’s too big. The only one who can keep her safe is Liam.”

“He’s in love with her! You said it yourself! How can I just sit here, knowing that they’re together? I just can’t let her go! I’m already the laughing stock of Evercrest.”

Listening to Mitch talk, Ashley started to wonder if he wasn’t more concerned about his ego than Olivia’s safety. “You’re fighting a losing battle, Mitch. Just try to have faith that this is all going to work out. He’ll bring her back, trust me—”

“When?” he demanded.

“When it’s safe.”

***

“Just keep heading west,” Haden instructed, reclining in the passenger seat, legs stretched out the best he could, his shitkickers crossed at the ankles. “I’ll let you know when we’re getting close,” he said, closing his eyes to rest. He wasn’t the same as them, an annoying fact he’d never been allowed to forget, growing up under Gahn’s iron fist.

He needed to rest—pure and simple, a mortal inconvenience he tried not to draw attention to and refused to let slow him down. Weakness was something he refused to tolerate in himself, as well as others. Pathetic…he thought, disgusted by his own humanity—hating it—hating himself—and hating his father who had been cruel enough to doom him to this life of hell.

“You sick or something?” Rowen asked, scowling over at him.

Haden popped open an eye, leveling him with a cold, hard glare. “Yeah, sick of being stuck in this car with all of you!” he growled, closing his eye again and settling deeper into the seat. They knew he was different from them. His pale green eyes confirmed that much. They just didn’t realize
how
different. Gahn had kept his secret, and
that
was the only thing the rotten bastard had ever done for him—and only because it served his own purpose.

Gahn had seen to it that any remnant of human emotion or affection in him had died along with Anya. He felt no remorse for what he was planning to do. In fact, he smiled to himself just picturing the look on Gahn’s face when he walked into the Dark Court with Immanuel’s Stone in his hand and shoved his fist down that son of a bitch’s throat. A smug, indulgent smile splayed across his lips as he succumbed to his humanity and drifted off to sleep.

The setting sun cast an orange glow over the little village in the recesses of South Africa. Black magic hung in the air like an invisible cloud. Haden drew a deep breath, feeling his strength increasing, the voodoo infusing his cells. He walked through the village unnoticed, having not yet stepped across dimensions. He’d been tracking this one for months, searching for her in what felt like the ends of the earth. They were always female—the sighted. Why, he didn’t know—didn’t care, dead was dead. But now his hunt had brought him here, to this God-forsaken land. She’d show herself…if he was patient. They always did. It was only a matter of time.

The sharp tang of burning incense stung his nostrils as he passed through several huts, in search of her. They all looked right through him, continuing with their business, oblivious to his presence. Thirsty, Haden walked over to the well in the middle of the small village and noticed a young woman sitting on the ledge. Her back was to him as she drew a bucket of water from the deep recess. Slowly, he approached, watching her as she leaned over the edge. Her mocha-colored skin glistened in a light sheen of sweat. He’d have to be blind not to notice the way her narrow waist met the gentle flare of her hips, those long, bare legs tucked elegantly beneath her.

He stepped to the side, trying to get a closer look at the female. Her long black hair was swept up, held off her bare shoulders with a white-washed bone, exposing the delicate arch of her neck. She wore a thin tan hide-skin dress that did little to cover her voluptuous curves straining against the butter-soft material.

The woman continued to collect the water, paying no attention to him, nor should she. He hadn’t transcended dimensions yet. Haden’s eye was rarely turned by the beauty of human flesh, but there was something remarkable about this creature. She was…absolutely exquisite. The longer he stood there watching her, the tighter his pants seemed to fit. Pressure coiled in his groin, sparking an unfamiliar ache of longing he didn’t understand and didn’t appreciate feeling.

“Would you hand me that pitcher?” the woman asked, reaching behind her for the pot beside his foot.

It startled him when she spoke. Her voice carried a sultry cadence that lit a spark of fire in his veins. He glanced over his shoulder to see who she was talking to. No one was there.

“If you’re going to stand there staring, the least you could do is hand me the pot,” she said, arching a brow as she glanced over her shoulder to look up at him.

Haden’s breath caught in his throat when her dark chocolate eyes locked on him. They held a hint of humor and no fear, which was a new experience for him. After centuries of bloodshed, he’d forgotten what it was like to have a woman actually look at him with anything other than terror in her eyes.

He was momentarily struck speechless by this woman’s beauty. And then the thought hit him.
Oh shit, please don’t let it be her.
“You can see me?” he asked tersely.

She laughed, and the light, airy sound brushed over him like a gentle caress. “Of course I can see you. You’re practically standing on top of me.” She gave him a bold, flirtatious smile and stood, turning to face him. “Anya,” she introduced herself, wiping her hand against her thigh before extending it to him.

“Haden,” he replied, stepping across to corporeal form as he took her hand.  Her grip was firm, confident. The moment he touched her, a jolt of heat sizzled through his veins, and his heart leapt inside his chest. Startled, he pulled his hand out of her grasp. Never in his life had he ever experienced such a reaction to a woman’s touch.

“Why are you here, Haden? You’re obviously a very long way from home.”

Please don’t let her be the one,
he repeated over and over to himself, knowing it was a futile plea. There was no one to hear it, anyway.

“Do you have someplace to stay?” she asked when he didn’t answer her.

Haden shook his head.

“Well, fill that jug,” she said, nodding to the clay pot next to his foot, “and follow me.”

“Why would you do that?” Haden asked, suddenly intrigued. “Why would you invite me into your home? You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re either very brave, or a very foolish man to walk into this village just before nightfall. Either way, unless you come with me, you will not live to see the sunrise.”

You really have no idea what I am, do you
? He thought, wondering if it was possible for someone to possess the gift of sight and not realize it. “Your concern is very touching,” Haden said, picking up the pot and lowering the jug into the well, letting it fill, “but you shouldn’t invite strange men into your home. You don’t know the first thing about me—”

“I know many things,” Anya countered, watching him closely. “I know there is darkness in you. And you have many secrets, but you will not hurt me.”

Anya didn’t realize it, but her declaration had just saved her life—for now. He was too intrigued by this stunning woman to bring her any harm tonight. Standing, he tucked the overflowing jug in his arm. “Give me yours,” he said, reaching for the heavy pot she held in her arms.

Anya gave him an approving smile and handed him her jug. She turned and walked away, Haden followed behind her.

It was less than a ten-minute walk to Anya’s mud-packed hut. By the time they arrived, night had descended upon them. It struck him odd that a single woman, especially one as beautiful as Anya, would be living so close to the outskirts of the village, and alone at that. Did she realize how vulnerable she was out here? Did she realize how vulnerable she was right now?

As they entered the modest one-room dwelling, a small fire was already burning in the clay stove. Cracks in the oven cast dancing shadows all around them. Just like him, they seemed drawn to Anya, swirling around her, brushing her shoulder, caressing her thigh. Holy hell, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.