Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series) (15 page)

He reeked of cheap perfume and crack. The scent clung to him, assaulting his overly-acute sense of smell, and now all he wanted to do was get back to the hotel and wash this woman’s stench off him. But he knew Olivia would be hungry. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. And rather than ditch his second reason for coming down here, he decided to stop at the pub and get Olivia something to eat.

He could have ordered room service, but then, that would negate his first reason for coming down here—putting a little breathing room between him and that female. Just the thought of her made his blood run hot. It was getting harder and harder to do the right thing, and he was honestly starting to wonder just how long he could continue to play the “good guy” here.

Olivia certainly wasn’t making it any easier on him. It was almost as if she wanted him to break, wanted to take them back down the road that had nearly destroyed them both. Certainly he was mistaken. Who in their right mind would ever want to go through that kind of pain again?

But, damn, he hungered for her. He hungered for her touch, her kiss. He hungered for the way she used to look at him—happy, carefree…in love…

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked as he slid onto the stool.

“A large pepperoni pizza and a Bud.”

The guy twisted the cap off the beer and slid the bottle down the bar. “Be about twenty minutes on the pizza,” he said, turning around to yell Liam’s order to the back.

“Thanks,” he said, grabbing the bottle off the counter and taking a long pull. The door opened behind him, ushering in a blast of cool night air. The biting scent of sulfur stung his nostrils, instantly jacking every muscle in his body ripcord tight. When the bells clanged against the glass as the door slammed shut, he didn’t need to turn around to know who stood behind him.

What surprised him was how little a lead he had on those bastards. He hadn’t expected them to show until tomorrow at the earliest. The hunter was good. Perhaps he’d underestimated him. Liam stretched him senses and did a quick check in on Olivia. Other than being a whole lot of pissed off, she was safe. His tension eased a bit.

The smoky scent grew stronger as the demon approached. Wordlessly, Rowen slid onto the stool beside him. “I’ll have what he’s having,” he told the bartender.

The guy behind the bar uncapped another beer and sent it sliding past Liam. Rowen snatched it off the counter and took a casual swig from the bottle.

“I thought I told you the next time I saw you, I was going to kill you,” Liam growled. “Guess you decided life is no longer worth living, huh?”

“It’s nice to see you, too, Liam. And no, you said if I went after Olivia again, you’d kill me. But the killing part is debatable and I don’t see her here. Besides, I doubt you want to cause a scene in such a fine establishment as this.”

The air of cockiness in Rowen’s graveled voice all but beckoned Liam to reach out and drive his fist into that smug bastard’s face.

“But that’s why you’re here—for Olivia.” He turned to Rowen and flashed him a menacing glare, daring him to deny it.

“Possibly,” Rowen replied flippantly, “but not tonight. Right now, I’m here to partake in a beer with my old friend.” He hailed the bartender with a brisk wave of his arm. “I’ll take two more.”

“Bullshit. We haven’t been friends since you betrayed your creator. Nor will we ever be again. And I’ll get my own beer,” he growled, draining the first one and throwing a five on the counter for another.

“So, the female’s driving you to drink, huh?” Rowen chuckled, ignoring Liam’s threat and taking another long pull off his beer. He leaned closer to Liam and sniffed. “Does she know?”

He turned his amethyst-hazed glare on Rowen. “Know what?”

“Your penchant for whores and crack. Don’t worry. They have support groups for that sort of thing these days.”

“You realize that as soon as I’m finished with this beer, the bottle is going right upside your head,” he snarled under his breath.

Rowen’s throaty laugh didn’t sound quite so confidant and carefree anymore. “All right...” He held his hands up in surrender. “Obviously, you’re not ready to admit you have a problem. I get it. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“What?” Liam snapped, itching to launch off the stool and drag Rowen out of here by his throat.

 “All I’m sayin’ is that you really should be thanking me.”

“Are you insane or just that stupid?”

“Think about it… If it weren’t for me, you never would have come back here, and your female would be married to that schmuck who swooped in and took your place after
you
left her. Mitch, isn’t it?” Rowen shot him a triumphant smirk. “So, the way I see it, you owe me a boon. I mean, isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?—to be with your precious Olivia? The only thing you have to do is keep her alive,” Rowen taunted. “How hard can that be?”

“She isn’t a game, Rowen.”

“Then why do you play with her heart?” he challenged coolly.

“Fuck you,” Liam snarled, slamming his beer down on the counter. “I’m going to kill you when we leave here. You know that, right?”

“Perhaps… But then you’ll have to choose—getting your revenge on me, or saving Olivia—decisions, decisions…”

***

Olivia walked over to the blackjack table and sat at one of the empty seats. She put a ten dollar chip down and asked the tuxedoed dealer to put her in. She played three rounds and was on a winning streak when a tall, blond, heavily muscled man sat beside her. She glanced over at her new neighbor and caught him boldly watching her. His penetrating pale green gaze locked on her, both hot and cold, in a slow head to toe assessment.

Oddly, no one else seemed to notice the guy. The dealer ignored him, tossing her cards on the red felt table and began flipping his hand. If it weren’t for the stranger’s green eyes, she’d have wondered if the man sitting beside her wasn’t otherworldly, but fallen angels had dark brown eyes, turning black as coal with the slightest emotional triggers of anger or lust. Her sighted vision was as clear as regular vision. Sometimes, the only way she could tell which dimension she was seeing in was by the shadows that frequently clung to the fallen angels.

She picked up her cards, trying to ignore the stranger with the haunting sea green gaze, and asked the dealer for another card.

The stranger leaned closer, peering at her hand, and whispered, “I think you should stay.”

The card landed on the table in from of her and she reached out to grab it, scoffing, “You’re crazy. Nine or less, and I’m golden. No way I’m gonna stay.”

He cocked his brow in basic male arrogance and shrugged. “Suit yourself. You flip that card and you’re going to lose.”

She hesitated, her outstretched hand gripping the edge of the royal blue diamond-printed card.

“Before you flip the card and lose this game, I’ll make you a wager.” His whiskey smooth voice drawled with a foreign accent she couldn’t quite place. “If I’m right and you bust, you let me buy you a drink at the bar.”

She smiled. Oh, this guy was smooth. “That hardly seems like a win for you—buying me a drink.”

“Oh, it’s a win, believe me. Having a drink with a beautiful woman can hardly be counted a loss.”

He smiled, revealing a perfect row of straight white teeth. He was handsome in a very hard, tortured way, but his smile softened his features in a way that was surprisingly disarming. Still, she was about to refuse, when she remembered why she was down here in the first place. Rejected by Liam—again, left in her room to obey his command to stay put, like some little lap dog. Her renewed surge of temper made her reckless. Maybe it would do him some good to come here and find her having a drink with another man…

“All right,” she said, “you’re on.” She gave him a cocky grin and glanced up at her dealer before flipping the card. He was staring at her like she’d just lost her mind. What was his problem?—whatever…

She hesitated for a second and then flipped her card. King of clubs. Shit.

The triumphant, throaty chuckle rumbled beside her, and she shot the stranger a mock scowl. “Lucky guess—”

“Haden,” he offered, holding his hand out to her. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Olivia.” She shook his hand and grabbed her chips off the table, tipping one to the dealer who looked like he’d seen a ghost. That poor guy needed a break.

Haden escorted her to the bar and they took a seat in a high-backed booth. The waitress didn’t waste any time rushing over to take their order.

“I’ll have a Jack Daniel’s and whatever the lady wants.”

“White Peach Sangria, please.”

The waitress nodded and walked away. Olivia looked back at Haden to find him watching her a bit too intently, sending a prickle of apprehension needling up her spine that she abruptly quelled when he said, “Please forgive me for staring. It’s just… I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you’re an incredibly beautiful woman.”

She smiled politely, feeling the tiniest spark of guilt edging in on her conscience. “Thank you. But I think it’s only fair to tell you, I’m not here alone.”

The corner of Haden’s lip quirked into a lopsided grin, turning his face dangerously handsome. “I never thought you were.”

Her brow arched in surprise. “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Gorgeous women never come to Vegas alone, at least the smart ones don’t.”

“Then I take it this isn’t your first time in Vegas? Or do you live here?”

The waitress set their drinks on the table and Olivia picked up her straw, stirring the fruit around in her glass before taking a sip. “Mmm…it’s good. Thank you.”

Haden took a swallow of his Daniel’s before answering her with a negligent shrug. “I’ve been here a few times—mostly for pleasure. Unfortunately, this time it’s business.”

“And what business is that? What do you do, Haden?”

“I’m a collector—of rare artifacts. In fact, I was just admiring your necklace. Where’d you get it?”

Oh thank God, he wasn’t staring at her boobs. For a moment she was starting to wonder. “It was a gift.”

“It’s very beautiful. May I?” he asked, reaching across the table to finger the heart-shaped stone.

“Don’t touch her!”

The low, menacing growl sent a shiver racing up Olivia’s spine. She jumped at the snarled command that seemed to come out of nowhere. Looking up, her gaze locked on Liam glowering down at them, the amethyst sheen of his eyes radiating pure malice.

Slowly, as if moving too quickly might induce an attack, Haden withdrew his hand from Olivia. His once friendly grin now held a cold measure of contempt as he, too, looked up at Liam.

“So, this must be your…someone,” Haden said to her, getting up from his chair and into Liam’s face. “I’m Haden,” he said, extending his hand with a falsetto smile. Although on the surface, the gesture appeared friendly enough, the unspoken contempt radiating between the two of them set off a warning that turned her blood to ice in her veins.

“I know who you are,” Liam growled, refusing to take the hand extended toward him. “Come here, Olivia,” he ordered, his voice cold and hard as steel. He reached for her without taking his eyes off Haden. The two were locked in a heated stare down, each refusing to be the first to look away. Obediently, she slid out of the booth and grasped Liam’s hand. The second they touched, he pulled her behind him. “I think you’d better leave.” It was a command rather than a request.

“For now,” Haden conceded. “Olivia, it was truly a pleasure meeting you.” The edge of his voice softened to that smooth, suave brogue. “It’s a pity we couldn’t finish that drink. Oh well, some other time then?” His icy green gaze slowly traveled the length of her. Goose bumps erupted everywhere his eyes touched, eliciting a feral growl from Liam.

“I’ll pass…” she replied crisply, not exactly sure what was happening between them, but whatever side Liam was on, that’s where she stood.

Haden chuckled. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full with this one, Warrior.” He spat the last word with contempt as he turned and walked away.

Chapter Thirteen

Liam’s grip on Olivia’s hand was biting, unrelenting, and painful. Wordlessly, he turned and walked toward the elevator, dragging her along behind him like a little child. She stumbled a couple of times, trying to keep up with his brisk stride. Not once did he slow or even look back. Fury literally radiated off him. She’d never seen him so angry—at her—and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t scare her a little. She wondered how much of his rage was a result of her disobedience and how much of it was because she’d been having a drink with another man. Did it really matter?—pissed off was still pissed off.

Liam jabbed the elevator button and stood there silently waiting for the doors to open. His death grip on her hand hadn’t lightened one little bit.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered softly to his back.

His spine stiffened, shoulders straightened. “I don’t want to talk about it, Olivia,” he replied, the icy edge of his voice cutting deep. The elevator doors slid open, and he pulled her inside. The second the door closed behind them, Liam dropped her hand and punched the button for the twelfth floor.

In self-preservation, her anger soared. It was easier to be mad than hurt, even if she had no right to be. It was still better than accepting responsibility for her petty, dangerous behavior tonight. “You know what?” Olivia snapped, turning her spiteful glare on him. “If you hadn’t left me tonight, none of this would have happened!”

Liam spun on her so fast she took a startled step back, colliding with the wall. He leveled her with his imposing amethyst glare, and her knees went weak, her throat dry—speechless. “If you would have stayed in the room like I told you, none of this would have happened!”

Olivia lost it. The stress of the last few days had finally pushed her past the breaking point. She stepped toward Liam and shoved him with everything she had. She was even more furious when he didn’t budge. “You shouldn’t have left me!” she yelled, not sure if she meant tonight or three years ago—probably both.

Liam reached out, grabbing Olivia’s arms so fast she didn’t have time to move away. He marched her back until she collided with the false wood paneling. His biting grip pinned her arms to the wall as he glared down at her. “If I wouldn’t have left,” he growled, “I wouldn’t be returning you to your fiancé in the same pristine condition in which you left!” The word “fiancé” flew from his mouth like a foul oath as his grip on her wrists tightened.